by Julie Benson
One that fit her new job, rather than acted as a neon sign announcing her an outsider.
She held the garment up to her face, covering her black-and-cream-colored blouse, and glanced in the mirror to her left. At first, seeing so much color next to her face, as opposed to the blacks, grays, creams she’d favored for work, startled her.
“That shirt would bring out the color in your eyes.” Rosalie walked to a rack of jeans and selected a pair. “These would be wonderful on your figure. It’s good to see a woman with curves who doesn’t think she has to be a stick-skinny size six.”
Grace accepted the jeans, sneaked a peek at the price, and found the cost much less than she expected. Despite that, financial practicality warred with her desire to update her wardrobe. While she was here she might as well try them on. After all, that was free.
She glanced at AJ standing at the counter perusing the brochures and flyers displayed. “I’m going to try these on. If you need to leave, go ahead.”
“I’m in no hurry,” he said as she headed for the dressing room. “Mrs. Thompson, these flyers for your anniversary sale are great. Did you get them printed in town?”
As Grace changed, she heard the store owner’s response. “I didn’t have enough time for Langstons to print them. Now that my daughter’s got my grandson, it took her longer to get the flyers designed. I had them done online. Why?”
“Simple curiosity,” AJ said. “Your daughter’s got a real eye for design.”
AJ’s comment didn’t fool Grace. Police never asked anything without a reason, and there was no such thing as ‘simple curiosity’ where they were concerned. The question wasn’t if he was concerned about something, but what.
“How’re you doing in there, Grace?” Rosalie asked.
“I’m fine.” She peered into the dressing room mirror. When was the last time she’d worn jeans? Did she own a pair that fit? She hadn’t needed them with a boss who hadn’t believed in casual Fridays. When she socialized after work, she changed her accessories and shoes, but basically wore whatever she had to the office. Then at home she preferred yoga pants and tees.
“Come on out, and let me see how those jeans fit.”
She stepped out of the dressing room, and Rosalie joined her. “Don’t you look as pretty as a field of bluebonnets?”
“I don’t look like a city slicker playing dress up?”
“Not at all, dear.” The store owner turned to AJ. “Don’t you think she looks pretty, Chief?”
He cleared his throat, shoved his hands in his pockets, and the jingle jangle of either keys or coins sounded, but quickly died. “She looks fine.”
“There you go with that sweet talk again.”
For a tough guy, who faced danger on a daily basis, how easily she embarrassed him surprised her. She smiled, enjoying throwing him off stride more than she should.
“You need boots, though. What size shoe do you wear?” Rosalie asked.
When Grace tried to decline, Rosalie insisted, saying there was no harm in looking. Not wanting to offend the shop keeper, Grace told the woman her shoe size, and a minute later the woman returned with a simple pair of tan boots, with delicate stitching swirled on the sides. When she tried the boots on she found them surprisingly comfortable.
“I’ll definitely be back to buy this outfit when I get paid.” Maybe if she scrimped on food, she could afford a pair of cowboy boots to go with them. She almost laughed. If she thought about taking the insurance money to buy a pickup, she’d worry.
“No need to wait. I let a few special customers have accounts with me. I’ll write up the sale, and you can take the items with you. When you get paid, come in, and pay off the balance.”
“I couldn’t do that.”
“Nonsense. You said you’re visiting various shops around town today, and that’s free advertising for me. With the way you look in that top, I won’t have one left by tomorrow.”
“I don’t think it’ll take that long,” AJ added.
Blushing over the appreciation in his tone and gaze, Grace said, “I’ll take the outfit, but the boots will have to wait.”
For the next hour Grace and AJ strolled around the town square. As they did, he told her what he knew about the businesses, the owners, and the town in general. While everyone was open and friendly, Grace noticed people referred to him by his title, and appeared somewhat formal with him. She lost count of how many people commented on the differences between him and “old Chief Weston” who’d focused more on managerial issues and stayed pretty much in his office.
To those shopkeepers, AJ smiled and reassured the person he saw to those administrative responsibilities as well. Then he added he felt checking in on a predictable basis helped him remain accessible, and as he’d told her, made him a visible deterrent to anyone thinking about stirring up trouble.
If the shop owner didn’t mention Chief Weston, they compared AJ to Cassie’s deceased brother-in-law, Jack Mitchell. To those individuals, AJ reinforced how much he’d admired his friend, and added while he couldn’t take his place, he hoped to do Jack proud. But each time his response became more forced, the lines around his eyes grew deeper, and his gaze a little wearier. At least that was how he looked to her. The shopkeepers, though, didn’t appear to notice.
Another odd action she observed on their tour was AJ’s interest in the printed material displayed in shops. He scrutinized every flyer, every business card, and though he tried to slip his questions casually into conversations, she figured out something was up. After they left the fifth shop, she confronted him. “What’s with asking about all the promotional material? And don’t give me that ‘simple curiosity’ line, because I’m not buying it. Cops don’t show that much interest in anything without a reason.”
AJ shoved his hands in his front pockets and shifted his stance. “I need business cards, and thought I’d check out who the shops in town use.”
She laughed. “I’ll let it go, but for the record, I’m not that gullible.”
“I’d never make the mistake of thinking that, but you do have a very active imagination seeing things where nothing’s going on.”
They stopped in front of The Lucky Star Café. “Joanne, the chef-owner, trained under a big name chef on The Food Network, and had a four star restaurant in Houston.”
She let his change of subject pass. “What brought her to Wishing?”
“She discovered the high-powered career she wanted wasn’t so great. When she burned out, she traded it in for a small town more laid-back lifestyle.” He pointed to the hours sign on the window. “Now she’s only open from eleven until two, and she sees her husband and kids more than two hours a week.”
“So she’s still doing what she loves, but has time to actually have a life.” When Grace first graduated from college, she wondered if women could have it all, but somewhere along the way she quit believing in happily ever after. At least for her.
Uncomfortable with the turn of her thoughts, she said, “I thought you were new in this job. How do you know so much about everyone and the town?”
“I’ve been coming to Wishing with Ty since we were roommates at A&M. We spent most of our time on the ranch fishing, riding, and shooting tin cans, but every once in a while we headed into town to The Horseshoe to play pool.” He pointed to the less than impressive rust-colored building across the street.
Now that was a hole in the wall. The type of place a person would expect to find Waylon, Willie and the boys playing. Clearly the owner didn’t believe in spending money on curb appeal. The simple brick building had a weathered shingle style awning over the entrance and the sign appeared to be from the seventies.
“That place is a hot bed of information, and Gabe makes the best burgers in east Texas, but if you’re in the mood for healthier, more upscale food, stick with The Lucky Star. I haven’t tried it myself, but Cassie raves about the trout and the soba noodle salad.”
“That’s not exactly what I’d expect to find in a sma
ll town café.”
AJ glanced at his watch. “It’s twelve-thirty. We could head in and see if the trout’s as good as Cassie says.”
“Are you asking me out?”
Chapter Eight
“No, of course not,” AJ said, his eyes wide with what Grace swore looked like horror. “I never meant to give you that impression. We’d be two friends grabbing a quick lunch.”
Sure they’d agreed to that, but a girl never wanted a guy to act as if a date with her rated up there with doing his laundry.
“Good. You had me worried,” she said in an effort to cover her wounded pride.
“Chief, there you are.” A skinny bit of a man, who had to be pushing seventy, yelled as he hobbled across the street to join them. “I’ve been looking all over for you. I stopped by the office, but all Marjorie knew was you were around town checking in with store owners.”
AJ introduced her to the older man, with what she’d come to recognize as his I’m-on-the-job-and-have-to-be-polite-instead-of-saying-what’s-on-my-mind smile. After tipping the brim of his cowboy hat and smiling in her general direction, Mason focused on AJ. “You’ve got to do something about Virgil and his blasted animals. This time his goats got loose. The damn terrors ate half my prize tomato plants. I’ve got a reputation to uphold at the state fair.”
Goats eating his tomato plants, and why were they prize winning? Was it size or taste? Grace shook herself mentally. This man thought that was worthy of accosting AJ on the street when he was in the middle of a conversation? Then she realized how many people treated AJ as if he were public property.
“Stop by the office in an hour. I’ll call Virgil, and the three of us will hash this out.”
Mason shook his head with such force he nearly dislodged his cowboy hat. “It’s long past time for talking. There’s got to be a city nuisance law or another crime you can charge Virgil with. What if those damn goats get into my hayfields? They could do a helluva lot of damage to what looks like will finally be a good crop.” His face flushed with color from his rising anger, he pointed a gnarled arthritic finger at AJ. “I want Virgil’s ass thrown in jail. That’ll fix his wagon, but good. That’ll get him to keep his animals on his property.”
Irritation flashed in AJ’s gaze, and his jaw tightened for a second, before he relaxed. Something told her he’d reached the limits of his patience. Then resignation washed over his face, and a protective urge unfurled inside her.
Protective? He was the police chief, but in some ways he possessed little control, especially in situations like this.
“I’m sorry, Mason, but the reason Chief Quinn can’t help you immediately is because he’s helping me. I came into town on an important errand for work.” She explained how she’d been hired as The Bluebonnet Inn’s new manager. Then she paused, and bit the inside of her lip until tears filled her eyes. “I’ve locked my keys in the car. I could call Cassie, but how can I look responsible enough to handle the inn when I’ve done something this silly? I’m trying hard to prove I can do this job. AJ offered to drive me back to the inn to get my spare key.”
She flashed the man what she hoped would pass for a helpless female plea, and placed her hand on his arm. “You don’t mind waiting a little in order for him to help me out, do you?”
“No, of course not.” Mason turned to AJ. “I’ll see you in your office at one-thirty. Now you go on and help this sweet lady.”
After Mason sauntered off, AJ said, “That was quite a performance. I have to admit, though, I’m confused about the reason for it.”
“I thought he was being ridiculous expecting you to drop everything. Does that happen a lot, people accosting you with legal issues when you’re out in town?”
“It’s part of the job. The chief of police is never really off duty.”
“For real crimes, I agree. If Mason had been robbed or attacked, that’s one thing, but goats eating his prize tomato plants?”
“He’s won ribbons at the state fair for five years straight. Since his wife died, that’s all he has.”
“I didn’t realize it was that serious. I suggest you have a fortifying lunch so you’ll be prepared to tackle the town’s rogue animal problem. First Lu, and now goats rampaging gardens. What are you doing about this, by the way?”
He rubbed knuckles over the stubble dusting his strong jaw, drawing her attention there. She wondered if he’d forgotten to shave this morning, but she admitted it looked good on him. Added a rugged, devil-may-care touch to his appearance.
“I better put the whole department on the case. Could be we’ve got a gang of goats bent on destroying the town. It’s only one garden now, but what if Mason’s right and they go after the crops? Wishing could be on the brink of agricultural destruction.”
Grace gasped in mock horror, and splayed a hand over her chest. “I hadn’t thought of that. What are you going to do? If you don’t stay on top of this potentially devastating issue, I may be forced to approach the town council with my concerns.”
“Not that. I can see the headlines now. Local chief of police ousted over goat gate.” Laughter bubbled out of him.
“That’s how it starts. I bet Nixon didn’t think Watergate was any big deal at first either.”
“I should put out an APB on Virgil and his goats before they ruin the town’s economy,” AJ said, in between chuckles. Then he sobered. “Farming is serious business here, and it doesn’t take much to ruin crops. I shouldn’t laugh.”
“Yes, you should. Mason wanted Virgil thrown in jail because goats got in his garden. I think that’s a little excessive, and possibly borders on crazy.”
“To put it mildly.” AJ chuckled again. “Thanks for the laugh. It’s the best one I’ve had in a while. Now about that lunch? Care to join me?”
“I wish I could,” Grace said, and realized she meant it. “But I promised Cassie I’d pick up a to-go order from The Lucky Star, and we’d have a working lunch.”
“How about I cook dinner tonight instead? Say seven?” For a second she thought she spotted shock on his face, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d said.
How come this friendship thing was so hard where he was concerned? She’d never had this problem before. Whenever AJ was around, her heart pitter-pattered faster, her palms grew sweaty, and she blushed and stammered like a fourteen-year-old with her first crush.
Worse now, his dinner invitation had her head spinning with insane notions of them taking long walks hand in hand, and snuggling together on the couch, spending their nights talking or necking. After that, her imagination and hormones ran amok imagining all sorts of erotic dreams.
Maybe it was the town’s name, but being here in Wishing made her wonder if dreams could become realities. Uh-oh. Thoughts such as that in association with AJ could get her into a lot of trouble.
“Dinner would be great.”
After Grace left, AJ cursed himself for being a damn fool. What insanity made him think asking Grace out to lunch was a good idea? Especially after being around her all morning rubbed his self-control tissue thin, and left his body tied in one giant knot.
He’d nearly come undone when she’d strolled out of the dressing room wearing that feminine little bit of nothing top that showed off her smooth, milky shoulders, and long neck, meant for a man’s kisses. Add to that the jeans molded to her lush hips, and he’d been in trouble, and thinking about doing all kinds of things with Grace. None of which had anything to do with friendship.
No doubt about it, being a glutton for punishment was the only explanation for him asking her out to lunch. But thankfully the good Lord did indeed protect fools and children. In AJ’s case by making sure Grace had plans. And what had he done? He’d offered to make dinner instead.
But he’d had an ulterior motive for his offer. Since staying at the inn, he’d searched the Carriage House and Guest House, but hadn’t found any notes. For the past two days he’d tried to search the Main House, but with little success. Whenever he was at the inn, Grace
was there. Between that fact, and work, he hadn’t been able to search the Main House. This morning he realized if he didn’t get to it, the pipes would be fixed, and he’d have blown his opportunity.
That meant searching while Grace was asleep. If he made dinner and spent time with her tonight, he could figure out her nighttime routine, and see if she was a night owl. Then he could gauge when to search.
Keep telling yourself that, buddy. A couple of hundred times and you might believe it’s why you suggested dinner. That way you can deny the invitation had anything to do with you enjoying spending time with her.
Pulling out his phone, he ordered a burger and fries to go from The Horseshoe. If he hurried he could visit the Tourist Bureau to check out the printed material there. Then he could pick up his lunch, and eat it in peace before Mason arrived.
Thanks to Grace.
As AJ headed across the town square, he smiled, thinking of how she’d handled the older man. While he wasn’t accustomed to anyone running interference for him, he decided he could get used to it right quick. Some men might be threatened by a woman stepping in, but being a modern twenty-first century guy, he didn’t mind.
He also had Grace to thank for landing him his first real lead on his forgery case. He walked into the Tourist Bureau, and the familiar rush at having a lead to pursue surged through his veins when he discovered the same results as the businesses in town. Langston Printing had done little of the information available for tourists. That fact led him to believe the shop relied more on online and out-of-town business, which raised another red flag.
His next step was to check out their website. The key to forgery investigations was to gain information without tipping off the suspects. If they got wind of his suspicions, they could close up shop, and destroy evidence leaving him with bupkis.
