Dean swallowed hard. “Melissa’s just a girl.”
“She’s growing up.”
“You don’t think...? What I mean is—I have a feeling maybe her relationship with Brian is more serious than I’d thought.”
Though Cary had always thought of himself as pretty much Melissa’s second father, this was one of those times where he was really glad he was only the uncle. “You probably should have one of those father-daughter bonding talks soon.”
The expression on Dean’s face would’ve made Cary laugh if he wasn’t so glad he wasn’t in his brother’s position. “You’re good with kids. Maybe—”
“Nope. Not even for a minute do I want to talk to her about boys. I did my part when she was little—I cooked her grilled-cheese sandwiches and played tea party.”
“I wish Mom was around.”
“Me, too. Mom would know what to say.”
“Did Dad say much to you?”
Cary chuckled. “Nope. Our conversation didn’t last longer than ten minutes.” Recalling how their normally unflappable dad had stuttered during the chat about girls, Cary said, “I guess it’s never easy.”
“No, I guess not.”
When Sludge started panting heavily, they turned and headed back toward the parking lot. “You know, Melissa’s a smart girl. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
Dean grinned. “I’ll do my best.” Deftly switching topics, he said, “Hey, since there’s no game this weekend, some guys from work are going out for pizza. Want to join us?”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass. I’ve got tests to grade and a couple of other things to do for work.” Cary didn’t dare mention that he was hoping Gen would call.
“Suit yourself. So...you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
The look Dean gave him said loud and clear that they both knew he was lying. Gen Slate had affected him in a way no woman ever had before.
* * *
WHEN EVAN CALLED AT six in the morning, Cary knew the news wasn’t going to be good. “What’s up?”
“We had a smoke bomb in one of the lockers. It was Melissa’s, Cary.”
The news hit him hard. A week had passed since Kate’s wall had been spray painted, enough time to make him think that they’d all overreacted to the vandalism.
“When?”
“Early this morning. I called the police and spoke with Sergeant Conrad.” After a brief hesitation, he said, “It might be best if Melissa stayed home today—most of her stuff was ruined. Maybe you could stay with her.”
Knowing Dean was going out of town again today, Cary thought keeping Melissa company was a good idea. But he also thought Evan was being a little too cautious. “Any other reason besides keeping an eye on Melissa?”
“There have been three incidents in two weeks. Each one has a connection to either you or Melissa. It’s a little too coincidental.”
“I have a job to do, Evan. I can’t stay home forever.”
“I know, but twenty-four hours isn’t going to do any harm and it will give the police time to look into the situation and maybe find the guilty party.”
Cary glanced at his kitchen table, which was littered with his teacher’s guide and lesson plans. “What do you want me to do about today? My plans are here with me.”
“Hold on.” In the background Cary could hear the principal speak briefly with a few people. “We’re sending an officer over to get your things. She’s going to leave for your house in a couple of minutes.”
She? Cary had a very good idea who that was going to be.
* * *
GEN’S PULSE BEAT rapidly as she knocked on Cary’s door. Only she would be excited to see Cary for such a bad reason.
Every time she was around Cary, her nerves stood on end. The last time they’d talked, she’d had her professional cap on way too tight. During the past week, she’d considered calling him but had been reluctant, worried that maybe she had misread his offer. Now work responsibilities made her feel edgy once again.
Things would be so much easier if she wasn’t investigating anything at his school.
Gen held her breath as she heard Sludge bark, and Cary opened the door.
“Hi, again,” she said, hoping her voice sounded friendly and not terse.
“Hey. How’d you luck out and get errand duty?”
She laughed, relieved things were okay between them. “Two words—new officer.”
“Come on in.” He looked uncertain. “Do you have time?”
“I do. Actually, I’ve been asked to speak with you about a few things.”
Cary led her into his front room, where they’d spoken with Melissa. “The chairs were my parents’,” he said, indicating the two wing chairs by the window. His chatter revealed that maybe he wasn’t so cool and collected, either. “They’re worn but comfortable.”
She sat down on the denim one and had to agree. Not that she was eager to relax.
After a moment, Cary brought her a stack of books and papers, as well as a folder with a set of typed notes inside. She placed them next to her own notebook. “Thanks.”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Gen, tell me about Melissa’s locker.”
His eyes were so velvety-brown, his gaze so full of questions and concern, that she took a little fortifying breath.
Briefly Gen gave Cary the details about what they’d found, including a cut-up staff photo of Cary, which shocked him. “I think it’s now pretty clear someone is desperate for your attention. Cary, we need a list of students who you think might be capable of something like this.”
“I know a lot of kids, but I can’t think of any who would actively want to hurt Melissa.”
“What about you? Have you had trouble with a student lately? Know of anyone who could be holding a grudge?”
“Not really.”
Gen wrote down some notes, doing her best to act calm and collected. But inside her stomach was churning. It had been hard entertaining thoughts about Keaton when he’d been her partner, but this was twice as hard.
Instead of concentrating on Cary’s answers, she was remembering how good it had felt to be with him after their run. How much she’d enjoyed kissing him.
But all that mattered now was her job. She was a professional—and finding out who was so angry at Melissa and Cary had to come first. Later on, if things were as good as she hoped they were between her and Cary, she could concentrate on that. Closing her notebook, she stood. “I’ll get your things to school.”
He reached out and gripped her hand. “Whoa, there. That’s it?”
His fingers were warm, his gaze completely leveled on her. “What...what do you mean?”
“I mean, you’ve told me nothing.”
“As of right now, there’s nothing to tell, Cary,” she said softly.
He didn’t release her hand. Instead he tugged her a bit closer. “What’s going to happen next?”
For a split second she thought he was talking about them. But he couldn’t be...right? Clearing her throat, she murmured, “I’m going back to your school to deliver your things and then report to Sergeant Conrad.”
“Gen...how’ve you been?”
Snap. Just like that, all thoughts of the case slipped away. Slowly she exhaled. “Truth?”
“Of course.”
“I...I’m all scattered inside.”
“I feel the same way.” He inched closer, ran a hand along her arm, the touch marking her through the thin fabric of her shirt.
“Yeah?”
“Uh-huh.” Oh, he smelled so good! She stepped closer. Cary pulled her into a hug. “Maybe later you can stop by,” he whispered. “Have a soda. Eat some nachos. You know...when you’re off duty.”
Nachos brought back thoughts of Mexican food, which brought back thoughts of the kiss after their date. Her mouth went dry.
“After we eat, I’ll rub your shoulders.” He leaned back to look at her. “You’re looking awfully tense, Slate.”
She was feeling pretty tense all of a sudden. “I really better get your things delivered. I mean, think of all those poor math students dying to do equations.”
He laughed. “I can promise you, not one of them is going to care about not having anything to do. At the moment, I’m not thinking too much about algebra, either.”
She was having a hard time concentrating on anything herself. “What are you thinking about?”
“Us. You.” He tilted his head. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”
This was where she should admit the same thing. Looking into his eyes, she knew he was waiting for her to give him some kind of sign. Something to propel him forward, to stop dancing around their attraction and to step into a real relationship. But...she wasn’t quite ready.
What if she was wrong? She couldn’t bear the hurt she’d felt when Keaton had rejected her. Hastily she stepped back and picked up his books from the table. Holding them to her chest, she said, “I really better go deliver these. I’m on the clock, you know.”
“I understand.”
Did he? She didn’t. At the moment, nothing made sense. “We should talk later.”
“I agree. But first we should do this.”
He leaned forward to kiss her. Oh, she wanted it, but if he kissed her that minute, she was going to be even more mixed up. And late.
She really needed to get going. “Cary...maybe...I don’t think so.”
“I definitely do.” Cary reached out and cupped her chin, ran those long fingers along her jaw. “I can’t stay away from you. I don’t want to, anyway.”
No one had ever talked to her like this. So honest, so unafraid to meet any situation full-force. Her hands went limp, causing the books to slide to the floor.
One landed on her boot. She hardly noticed. “Later, when we talk, we should discuss this attraction between us,” she said.
He brushed his lips along her jaw. “Uh-huh?”
“Yes. We can come up with a plan.”
“A plan?” he asked, kissing her again.
Work was definitely overrated. Finally giving in, Gen slipped her hands around his neck and kissed him back.
He tasted minty and warm and exactly the way she remembered. Like everything she’d dreamed a kiss could be when she’d stayed home on Saturday nights in Beckley.
Then she remembered what she was supposed to be doing. Breaking off the kiss, she pulled out of his arms. “I really gotta go. Now.” Hurriedly she picked up her notebook, gathered his books and ran out.
“I’ll call you, Gen,” he said as she rushed to her cruiser.
“Great,” she called out, tossing his poor, beaten-up textbooks onto the passenger seat before slipping the car into Reverse and pulling out of his driveway.
She couldn’t resist looking for him out her rearview mirror as she drove away. He was leaning against his garage door, Sludge by his side, watching her go.
It was almost enough to make her believe in love.
* * *
GEN PLAYED PHONE tag the rest of the day with Cary. Her first message stated she had nothing to report. Her second said she’d see him later.
While she was in a meeting, she received a call from him. “I know we talked about getting together tonight, but I can’t,” he’d said, his voice regretful. “This vandalism thing’s affected Melissa more than I thought. As much as I want to see you, Melissa needs me tonight. Call me tomorrow.”
She phoned him hours later. “I didn’t want to go to bed without telling you good night.” With a deep breath, she added, “Thanks for calling. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Chapter Ten
THAT NIGHT, BONNIE knocked twice on Gen’s door before letting herself in and speaking her mind.
“Your dog is a menace,” Bonnie stated matter-of-factly as she stepped into Gen’s apartment with a container of homemade chili and enough brownies to make the most ardent chocoholic happy. “She needs a warning label pasted to her side.”
Saying Sadie was a menace was pretty much like saying she was a beagle—they were one and the same. After gesturing for Bonnie to take a seat on the couch, Gen said, “What’s she done this time?”
“Nothing good. First of all, she howled nonstop all day.”
That certainly didn’t sound menacing. “Hmm. I wonder what was bothering her.”
“I wonder what wasn’t.” With a steely-eyed glare at Sadie, Bonnie continued. “Around lunchtime I took pity on your girl and let her out. The minute that dog was free of the house, though, she strode right over and trampled my petunias I just planted.”
“The petunias, huh?”
“Oh, don’t give me that policewoman look, Officer Slate,” Bonnie said crisply. “Sadie zeroed in on the only blooming thing in the whole backyard. Before I could get to her, she’d already begun her search-and-destroy mission.”
That sounded premeditated. “I don’t know. I just don’t think she’s that smart.”
“Humph. She’s got you fooled.”
Gen bit her lip, knowing it would be futile to argue. Sadie learned from her poor behaviors. If Bonnie kept taking her out when she howled, Sadie would continue to howl. Loud and often.
Of course, terrorizing the petunias was a mystery.
Because Bonnie was still giving Gen a look that would do any interrogator proud, Gen went through the motions of acting as if she understood why Sadie was the way she was. “Have you seen any rabbits around? Sadie loves to chase rabbits.”
“Not a one.” If daggers could have gone shooting out of her landlady’s eyes, Gen would need a hundred stitches.
O-kay. “I’ll try to figure out why she’s howling so much and will replace your petunias. Thank you for—”
“Hold on there. I haven’t even gotten to the worst part.”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“Sadie ate my chicken pie.”
Gen glanced again at the chili she was holding. “Huh?”
“I made a pie for some people at church. After the howling and petunia incidents, I brought Sadie in to clean her paws, and that’s when it happened.”
Gen joined Bonnie on the couch. She distinctly recalled sharing with Bonnie the cardinal rules about living in harmony with Sadie. Rule number one: never leave her alone in the kitchen. Rule number two: never forget rule number one.
Bonnie just kept talking. “I wasn’t gone more than three minutes when I heard my favorite pie plate clatter to the floor and break in two. That rotten beagle didn’t even have the decency to slow down or slink away when I came back in and gave her a piece of my mind. No, ma’am. She just started eating faster!” Finally Bonnie paused to take a breath.
Gen glanced at Sadie. Contrary to Bonnie’s description, the beagle did now look genuinely contrite. At the moment, she was attempting to fit her pudgy girth under one of the kitchen chairs. It wasn’t going too well.
“I’m sorry about the pie and your plate.” Looking at the bright white Tupperware container, Gen said, “Where did the chili come from?”
“I made it as soon as I cleaned up that mess.”
“Oh, my. You must have been in the kitchen all day.”
“I was.”
“I’m so sorry, Bonnie. I’d have never asked you to take her out today if I’d known she was going to be so much trouble.”
“Don’t you fret. It’s Sadie I’m put out with, not you.”
Warily Gen examined Sadie. Now safe under the table, she was staring at Gen with her familiar soft brown eyes, looking for all the world lik
e a candidate for the Westminster Dog Show. “I think she feels really bad now.”
Bonnie looked skeptical. “She’s probably just digesting.”
Gen searched for anything to talk about besides her dog’s poor manners. “I saw Cary Hudson again today.”
“Did you two go out on another date?” Bonnie asked hopefully.
“No.” Not wanting to reveal too much, Gen said vaguely, “There’s been some vandalism going on at the high school, as you may have heard, and I had to speak to him.”
“Yes, word’s been going around town that things are a real mess and Cary’s smack-dab in the middle of it.”
Gen hid her grin. One of the drawbacks of living in a small town is that secrets don’t stay secret for long. “I’ve never asked, but do you know Cary very well?”
“Fairly well,” Bonnie said, her petite frame reminding Gen of Alice in Wonderland. Curling her feet underneath her, she added, “I go to the same church as the Hudsons. Have forever.” Looking at Gen fondly, she said, “Oh, you should have seen Dean and Cary when they were small.”
She wished she had. “Cute?”
“As all get-out! But hardworking, too. Cary and Dean were typical pastor’s children. If anyone ever needed a helping hand, they were put into service. They helped mulch the neighbors’ beds, raked leaves. They participated in church services, sang in the choir. It almost became a kind of joke guessing what Pastor Hudson might have Cary and Dean do next.”
“It sounds nice,” Gen said, imagining what a younger Cary would have been like.
“They were nice. A happy family.” With a frown, Bonnie shook her head sadly. “It was a sorrowful day when those boys lost their mother to cancer, then their father right after. Pastor Hudson was a wonderful leader, and their mother a giving woman.”
Taking the opportunity to pick Bonnie’s brain, Gen said, “I’m having a hard time figuring out why Cary or Melissa would be targets of vandalism. Based on what you’ve been saying, both seem so popular.”
“I’m sorry, Gen, but I have no idea who could be responsible. Luckily that’s your job and not mine.” Gesturing toward Gen’s tiny back porch, Bonnie hopped up. “What’s all this?”
Starting Over at Lane's End (Harlequin Heartwarming) Page 9
