Nickeled and Dimed to Death

by Denise Swanson

  CHAPTER 2

  * * *

  Birdie was waiting for me just inside the front door. Her summer tan was fading, and when she pursed her lips as she was doing now, her wrinkled face looked like a half-baked biscuit.

  “Sweet Jesus!” She flipped her long, gray braid over her shoulder and demanded, “Why are you so late? He’ll be here in less than an hour, and you’re a hot mess.” She held her nose. “And you smell.” Gran was never one to mince words, especially when she was aggravated.

  I discreetly lowered my head and sniffed. Ew! Eau de Hard Work wafted from my body. “Thanks so much for the confidence booster.” She might be right, but I didn’t have to like it.

  “You’re welcome.” Birdie’s impatient expression intensified. “Now get your rear in gear while you answer my question.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I sketched a mocking salute, then, with Gran in hot pursuit, hurried toward my bedroom. While explaining about the woman selling the vintage chocolate molds, I stripped off my jeans, sweatshirt, and underwear. I didn’t include the information that those molds might be stolen property. Birdie would be mad enough to spit at my stupidity, so why stir up that hornet’s nest?

  Gran trailed me into the bathroom and watched as I turned on the shower. Some privacy would be nice, but if I complained, she’d remind me about the diapers she’d changed and the pictures she had of me wearing nothing but Mr. Bubble in the tub.

  Instead, while I waited for the water to warm up from frigid to tepid—we really needed a new water heater—I finished up my story about Elise. “So I got the whole boxful, all five molds, for less than what one of them is worth. And they’re fabulous.”

  “You should have told her to come back Monday.” Birdie’s pale-blue eyes glinted with displeasure. “This could be the night. Jake said he has a surprise for you. You have to look your best.”

  Deputy U.S. Marshal Jake Del Vecchio, the guy I was dating, was the grandnephew of Birdie’s old high school flame, Tony. She and Tony were bound and determined to see Jake and me walk down the aisle. I suspected they were trying to consummate their own unfulfilled romance through us, but I’d never had the nerve to say so out loud.

  “And you know what Jake said, how?” I asked. It was a purely rhetorical question, because clearly Gran had been reading my text messages again. I needed to remember to lock the screen on my phone.

  Especially since I was pretty darn sure that the “surprise” Jake had mentioned had more to do with him finally getting me horizontal and seeing the tiny shooting star tattoo on my hip than with the engagement ring Gran was hoping he had in his pocket, ready to slip on my left hand. Allegedly, we were going into nearby Kansas City for dinner and a show to celebrate our one-month-of-dating anniversary, but I suspected we were really going into the city to find some privacy. A commodity that was difficult to obtain in my hometown.

  I stepped into the shower, thinking that maybe Gran would lose interest and leave, but she continued to talk to me through the closed curtain. When she got to the subject of my wardrobe, I cringed. Birdie’s taste in clothing was eclectic at best. One day she’d wear a poodle skirt from her teenage years, and the next she’d have on a Jackie Kennedy suit—complete with matching pillbox hat and pumps.

  Turning off the water, I answered her clothing inquiry with, “I’m all set. I have a new dress.”

  “Really?” Birdie’s voice held a note of delight. “You spent money on clothes?”

  “Well . . .” Oops! I hadn’t meant to admit that to Gran. It was the first new item of clothing I had purchased since quitting my job and buying the dime store, so she’d know I was excited about this date, too. “It’s no big deal. It was on sale on Overstock.com.”

  “Uh-huh.” Gran’s expression said she knew this date must be important to me if I was willing to spend hard-earned cash on a new dress.

  “It’s true.” Obviously, my excuses weren’t fooling her, but I gave it one more try as I stepped out of the shower. “And I had a coupon and shipping was free.”

  “No need to explain.” Birdie smirked. “I’m thrilled you finally bought something nice for yourself.” She paused. “It is nice, right?”

  “It’s hanging on the inside of my closet door.” I’d toweled off and now picked up my blow dryer, gesturing toward my bedroom. “Go ahead: take a look.”

  I smiled. Her oohs and aahs were loud enough to be heard over the noise of the turbo stream of hot air I had aimed at my head. If Gran was happy, maybe she’d let me finish getting dressed in peace.

  Or not.

  As I was winding my hair around hot rollers, Birdie darted back into the bathroom and asked, “What shoes are you wearing?”

  “My T-strap peep-toe sandals.” Although I had sold most of my designer clothing, especially the suits, when I quit my city job, I had kept the shoes since I was reasonably sure the market for used footwear was fairly limited.

  Birdie nodded and disappeared, muttering to herself about sexy heels helping my too-curvy calves.

  I hollered after her, “What time is it?”

  “Five ten.”

  Crap! Jake was picking me up in twenty minutes and I still had to put on my face, brush out my hair, and get dressed. I dug through my makeup case, searching for my seldom-used base. It had been so long since I’d applied it, I had almost forgotten the swirl, tap, and buff method that bareMinerals recommended. For a second, I was afraid I would have to dig out the instructional video.

  I hadn’t bothered with much more than lip gloss for a long time. For special occasions, I slapped on some concealer and brushed on a little bronzer, but I hadn’t put on the whole shebang since working in the city. Luckily the technique came back to me, and ten minutes later my eyes were shadowed, my lashes curled and mascaraed, and I was done.

  Running into my bedroom, I nearly tripped over Gran’s ancient Siamese cat, Banshee, who hissed and clawed at my leg. I loved 99.9 percent of all animals, but not Banshee—and the feeling was mutual. Our war had started when he ate my pet gerbil. Considering his stealth attacks on me from the tops of bookshelves and around corners, there didn’t appear to be any truce in sight.

  Gran had laid out my best bra and panty set on the bed, along with a pair of sheer, lace-topped, thigh-high nylons. Where had she gotten those stockings? And when had my grandmother turned into my pimp?

  On the other hand, as I smoothed on the filmy hose, I had to admit they did wonderful things for my less-than-perfect legs. Taking my new dress from its hanger, I stroked the pale-pink fabric. It was strapless with a sweetheart neckline and had embroidered butterflies scattered randomly on the bodice and the above-the-knee skirt.

  After putting on the dress and slipping on my high heels, I turned to look in the mirror. Surprised, I turned all the way around, then did it again. Yes, the girl in the glass really was me. It took a few seconds for me to realize that I felt young and pretty and hopeful—emotions I hadn’t experienced in a very long time.

  With my thirtieth birthday looming at the end of the year, I had been feeling old, and I rarely thought of myself as pretty, but the sensation of optimism was what really astonished me. I couldn’t remember feeling that way since before my dad went to prison.

  Fifteen minutes later, as Gran and I stared out the front window of the living room, I fingered the silky material of my dress and wondered why Jake was so late. He was almost always on time, yet there was still no sign of him. Why hadn’t he called?

  “Sweet Jesus.” Birdie popped out of her recliner. “Where is that boy?”

  “I’m sure he’ll be here any second,” I said, keeping my voice as nonchalant as possible. If Gran knew that I was concerned, she’d leap to the conclusion that I was in love with Jake. And since I’d known him for only six weeks, that couldn’t be true. Right?

  “Humph.” Birdie paced from the sofa to the TV and back again.

  “I’ll text him and see what’s up.” While I searched for my cell phone, questions ping-ponged through my mind. Ha
d I misunderstood his original message? Had something happened to him? And although I told myself over and over again that arriving late for a date didn’t mean he was dumping me, a little voice in my head kept suggesting that was exactly what was happening.

  Just as I located my elusive cell hiding at the very bottom of my purse, the phone in the kitchen started ringing.

  Expecting it to be Jake, I hurried into the next room and grabbed the handset on the second ring. “Hello.”

  “Why aren’t you answering your cell?” The irritated voice of Boone St. Onge buzzed in my ear.

  Before I could respond, Gran walked into the kitchen, an inquiring look on her face. I mouthed Boone’s name, and she retreated to the living room to resume her vigil at the picture window.

  “Did you forget to charge it again?” Boone demanded. He, along with Poppy Kincaid, were my two best friends. All three of us grew up together. The only time any of us lived anywhere outside of Shadow Bend was during college, and, in Boone’s case, law school.

  I checked the small screen of the tiny device I was still clutching and saw that I had accidently muted the ringer. “The battery’s fine. I just didn’t hear it.” Flipping through the missed messages, which were mostly from Boone, I asked, “What’s up?”

  “Not much right now. Later I’ve got that thing I told you about.” Boone had mentioned that he and a friend were going to an art gallery opening in Kansas City, but those events usually started pretty late.

  “What time are you leaving?” I knew it took a good hour to get into the city even without commuter traffic.

  “Ten.” Boone crunched something in my ear, then explained, “We’re going to grab a bite to eat, then go to the gallery. The artist claims to be a vampire, so he only shows his work from midnight until dawn.”

  “How . . .” I searched for the right word. “Inconvenient for his mortal patrons.”

  “Hey, at least it’s something new to do. Lately, I’ve been so bored I could scream.” Boone chomped again; I was pretty sure he was eating an apple. “How about you? Are you doing anything interesting?”

  “Just sitting here with Gran,” I answered truthfully. I hadn’t mentioned to either Poppy or Boone that Jake and I had a big date. Both of them were already way too interested in my relationship with him.

  “You need to get a life.” Boone sighed, then added in an discontented tone, “We both do.”

  “Hey, I tried once, but they were out of stock.”

  Boone ignored my feeble attempt at humor and said, “On a more positive note, at least you have time to talk to me.” I could hear him settling in for a good gossip.

  “Uh—”

  Boone didn’t wait for my answer. “You’ll never guess who I saw at Brewfully Yours today.” He paused dramatically. “Or what she had on.”

  As I listened to Boone’s description of his encounter at the local coffee shop with Gwen—a woman we both disliked—I continued to scroll through my voice mail. The very last one in the queue was from Jake. I covered the other phone’s receiver and pressed the button to listen to the message.

  “Devereaux”—Jake’s sexy, deep voice swept over me—“I’m sorry to cancel our date at the last minute, but I just got a call. I’ve been cleared for duty and they have a case they want me on ASAP.” He paused, then added, “I’m heading to St. Louis as soon as I hang up. I’ll call you when I get a chance, but it may be a while.”

  For a second I sagged against the kitchen counter. Jake had been injured in the line of duty more than a year and a half ago. He’d been working on his granduncle’s ranch while waiting to hear if he’d healed enough to resume working as a deputy U.S. Marshal—an outcome he desperately wanted and that I had mixed feelings about.

  While I was glad that Jake’s leg was better and he could get back to the job he loved, it meant he’d be living in St. Louis—more than four hours from Shadow Bend. It also meant that he’d be in contact with his ex-wife, Meg, every day, since she was his supervisor. Heck, for all I knew, they’d be spending nights together, too. None of those circumstances held much promise for the future of our relationship.

  Finally I straightened, took a deep breath, and forced myself to continue the conversation with Boone, who was saying, “And she was wearing the most hideous gold dress with purple tights and bright aqua stilettoes.”

  Thank goodness Boone was on a roll and didn’t require much more than the occasional, “Oh, my . . . ,” “What was she thinking?” and “I can’t imagine,” because my mind was fully occupied with Jake’s news.

  Twenty minutes went by and Boone was winding down when the call-waiting tone started bleeping in my ear. Crossing my fingers that it was Jake phoning to say he’d changed his mind, decided to resign from the Marshals, and was staying in Shadow Bend, I said good-bye to Boone and picked up the other call.

  “Dev?” A too-familiar voice socked me in the gut. “It’s Noah.”

  I really wished I had looked at the caller ID. Because if I’d known it was my old high school boyfriend, Noah Underwood, I would have ignored the call.

  CHAPTER 3

  * * *

  Noah Underwood and I had known each other since birth. Actually, we might have met while still in our mothers’ respective wombs. Both women were pregnant at the same time, and they were often together at community events. In fact, considering both women’s love of attention, they had probably stood side by side, vying for the limelight.

  The Underwoods and the Sinclairs were two of the five founding families of Shadow Bend, which made socializing with one another inevitable. Consequently, when Noah and I hit adolescence, it had seemed natural for us to become sweethearts. And once we started dating, we were inseparable. It hadn’t taken long for Noah to become the most important person in my life, and I had thought I was the most important one in his. Regrettably, I had been wrong. Very, very wrong.

  Thirteen years ago, before everything changed, the Sinclairs and the Underwoods were social equals. Both families were respected and well regarded. But when my father went to prison, the Sinclairs became the town pariahs, while the Underwoods continued to grow more revered with every year that passed.

  Few people blamed Noah for ending our relationship. After all, he was the golden boy, and my family’s reputation was tarnished beyond redemption. The fact that he had vowed to love me for all eternity, then bolted when my father was found guilty, made sense to them. Gran, Boone, and I were the only ones who hated him for walking out on me during the worst period of my life. Even my other best friend, Poppy, had a soft spot for my ex-boyfriend.

  Recently, Noah had tried to convince me that I had incorrectly interpreted his actions at the time. He claimed he’d had a good reason for breaking off with me, and that he’d even tried to come back. But I still wasn’t sure I believed him, and if I did believe him, I wasn’t certain it mattered to me anymore.

  True, until I met Jake, I had never felt the same passion toward any other man that I had felt for Noah. But how did I know those feelings weren’t just a teenage crush? And did I really want to risk being hurt again in order to find out?

  Which is exactly why I had been ducking Noah for the past several weeks. I liked to deal with most problems head-on, but my love life was another matter entirely.

  “Dev?” Noah asked after a lengthy silence on my part. “Are you there?”

  “Hi, Noah.” I guess I still could have hung up, but I felt guilty for avoiding him this past month. We had supposedly cleared the air between us when I helped him find out who had murdered his fiancée, and I knew he was probably confused by my behavior.

  “Oh. Hi. I thought maybe I had gotten your answering machine again.”

  “Nope.” I pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and sat down. “It’s me.”

  “That’s great.” There was a hint of happy surprise in Noah’s silky tenor. “I was afraid you’d be out. I never seem to catch you at home.”

  “Yeah.” I concentrated on keeping my breathing
even and sounding as casual as possible. “I’m pretty busy between the store and Birdie, and—” I broke off. I had almost said seeing Jake.

  “I know what you mean. I really wish I could talk another doctor or two into joining my practice.” Noah’s tone was rueful. “But for some reason that I can’t figure out, no one else seems to want to put in twelve-hour days and accept payment in livestock.”

  “Who paid you in chickens this time?” I asked, having heard through the grapevine about the hens that had gotten loose at his clinic. “Or do you have a cow grazing in your waiting room now?” It was common knowledge that Noah was too kindhearted to turn away patients in need, despite their inability to pay by cash, check, or credit card.

  Farm families strapped for money had taken to using the barter system around town. Just the other day, I’d been offered a couple of rabbits and half a dozen chicks in exchange for quilting fabric. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to have the animals for dinner or put them in Easter baskets, but neither alternative worked for me, and the woman and I had come to an alternative arrangement.

  “The Browns,” Noah answered, laughing, “but it was a piglet, so no harm, no fowl this time.”

  I snickered at his bad pun. “What in the world did you do with a pig?” I had forgotten how much I enjoyed Noah’s dry sense of humor.

  “I gave it to the women and children’s shelter,” Noah answered. “The kids are raising the piglet and the chickens, and they’ll enter them in the county fair this spring. Then the animals will be processed to provide food for the shelter.”

  “That was really nice of you.” My heart melted a little. “But how do you keep your clinic in the black when you do stuff like that?”

  For years, I had tried to convince myself that Noah couldn’t possibly be the wonderful man the townspeople all proclaimed he was. I had been sure that everyone was blinded to his true self by his profession, his good looks, and his family’s position in Shadow Bend. However, since we had finally discussed the past and I’d heard his side of what had happened in high school, it was harder and harder for me to ignore what a good person he was.