by Rula Sinara
When asked what she hopes the future will hold for Riverton and its new homegrown police chief, Norma says, “Riverton will be the safest town in Wisconsin, and if anyone can solve the mystery of the missing garden gnomes, my son can.”
There you have it, Dear Hearts. And speaking of the garden gnome mystery, be sure to check back tomorrow to see if there are any new developments.
Love, Emily
She quickly read over what she’d written and set her post to go live on Wednesday.
* * *
ON MONDAY MORNING, Jack stood behind his desk and surveyed his new office. The space was now devoid of the decades-worth of memorabilia his predecessor had accumulated. All that remained were the massive desk with its large leather chair, a pair of guest chairs, and a gray steel filing cabinet. Inside the cabinet, various folders and reports had been filed in a system that apparently only the former chief had understood. Karla Caldwell, the department’s office administrator, had already offered to refile everything in a more logical way, and Jack had gratefully accepted her help.
Right now there were only three items on his desk. One was a gift from his parents—a gold pen in an oak holder, engraved with his name and his new rank on a brass plate. The second was a framed photograph of him and Emily on horseback the day of the picnic. CJ had snapped it as the two of them had ridden away, their backs to the camera. In the card she had attached to the package, she’d written, “Here’s to the future and to riding off into the sunset. Together. Your future sister-in-law, CJ.” The card was tucked safely in his top desk drawer, away from prying eyes.
Emily still hadn’t agreed to provide him with any sisters-in-law, but she was close to changing her mind. He sensed it in the way she looked at him, in the way she would sometimes unconsciously reach out and touch his arm to get his attention. And this morning, after he had stopped by her place with take-out coffee, which they drank while sharing a couple of slices of his mother’s banana bread, still warm from the oven, she hadn’t just wished him good luck on his first day here.
Emily had given him a horseshoe, then had draped her arms around his neck and kissed him in a way that made him feel like the luckiest man alive. She had explained that he needed to hang it with the pointy parts up, but when he arrived at the office this morning, he figured it made a better paperweight. It now rested on a low stack of files next to his desk blotter. He liked having it within arm’s reach.
Now that he was an official resident of Riverton, he needed to follow Paul’s advice. He’d already done the compromise. Next was the proposal, and he was working on that. For now, all he knew was that it would take place in the gazebo. He was still working on the romantic part, but he needed to move quickly. Last night, on his way home from Emily’s place, he had spotted Rose Daniels’s car parked in front of the Riverton Bar & Grill. He’d gone in and spotted her alone in a booth with a half-eaten burger and a fresh pint of beer. She hadn’t seen him come in, so he’d sat at the counter, ordered coffee and watched her in the mirrored backsplash behind the bar. In the time it took him to down a cup of coffee, she had polished off the pint and ordered another.
Back outside in his Jeep, he had called Brett Watters, his former colleague in Chicago. Sure enough, after Rose had returned to Chicago, she had checked in to say she had landed a job as a waitress in Riverton and was moving there for good.
From where Jack had sat out front, he’d seen her drain her glass and signal she’d like another. Looked as though she was about to become the restaurant’s best new customer.
But the real bombshell had been Brett’s report on the latest bit of information that had come in from vital statistics—Scarlett Daniels’s birth certificate and Thomas Finnegan’s marriage license. The name on both documents was Scarlett Franklin. Somehow Rose had found out about her long-lost stepfamily in Wisconsin and had come here to... Well, he had yet to figure out her motive. Right now, Emily was his only concern. She would be devastated to learn the truth about her mother—who wouldn’t?—and he had no idea how to tell her. What he knew for sure was the ring in his pocket needed to be on her finger when he did.
There was a light tap on his office door, then it opened, and Karla appeared. “Everyone’s waiting for you in the staff lounge. Coffee’s ready, too.”
“That’s great. Tell them I’ll be right there. Oh, and here.” He picked up the extra-large Tupperware container from the top of the filing cabinet and handed it to her. “A friend of mine sent this for everyone.” He had almost said my future sister-in-law, which is how he thought of Annie. She had presented him with the container after dinner last night. He’d become a permanent fixture at the Finnegan family’s Sunday night dinner. He wondered if Emily’s father questioned why that was, but Emily assured him her father accepted their explanation that, as Eric’s best friend, he was there to provide moral support for Annie and her son.
“This friend of mine is some sort of pastry genius,” he said.
Karla lifted a corner of the lid and peeked inside. “Is this Annie Finnegan’s apple strudel?”
“It is.”
“Oh, my,” she said reverently. “If there’s a direct line between her kitchen and your office, well, what can I say? Welcome to Riverton, sir.”
Sir? “It’s Jack. No need for formality.”
“I’ll let them know you’re on your way. No rush, though. This will keep them happy,” she said with a grin, scurrying off to the lounge, clutching the container in both hands.
Jack snagged his jacket off the back of his chair, slid his arms into the sleeves, straightened his tie. His mother had fussed over his newly issued uniform, pressing it until the shirt was wrinkle free and the creases in the pant legs could cut butter. Emily had never seen him in uniform and had seemed pleasantly surprised, although she hinted she preferred slightly the scruffy undercover Jack to spit-and-polish Chief of Police Jack. For everyday attire, he hoped to find his comfort zone someplace between the two, but for today, his first day on the job, he wanted to get off on the right foot.
And good first impressions started with punctuality, he reminded himself, as he left his office and made his way around Karla’s desk, down the corridor, past the interview room where he had not long ago questioned Rose Daniels, and into the staff room.
The men and women assembled there moved to get up from their seats as he walked into the lounge, but he waved them down. Karla jumped up to pour him a cup of coffee, and he stilled her with the same motion. “Thanks, but I’ll get my own.”
He poured himself a cup and faced the group around the table, noting that several had already helped themselves to Annie’s strudel.
“I want to thank each of you for making the effort to be here this morning,” he said, glancing around at the members of the department who had all gathered to meet with him on his first day on the job. “I appreciate it, especially those of you who came in on your day off.”
“No problem, Chief.”
“Thanks.” He acknowledged the title with a smile and a nod. “One thing, though. I’d like to keep the ‘sirs’ and the ‘chiefs’ to a minimum.”
“Fenwick said he’d be back to give a serious whooping to anyone who gives you any grief,” a young patrol officer said, grinning.
“Besides, we figure it never hurts to earn a few brownie points,” another quipped.
“Noted,” Jack said, laughing as he assessed the members of the Riverton Police Department. The department was made up of a lieutenant, seven patrol officers—five men and two women—and their full-time administrator, Karla. One of the officers was running a bicycle safety session at the elementary school that morning, and another was on regular patrol duty. The rest were here.
This was his first day on the job, and this was his team. He had known several of these men and women for most of his life, some of the others he had only just met. Their collective ex
perience, commitment and dedication inspired him and filled him with doubt. They would be looking to him for leadership and direction. Could he deliver? Mayor Bartlett, former Chief Fenwick and his family certainly had faith in him. But it had been Emily’s spontaneous kisses on the afternoon of the mayor’s announcement that had made a believer out of him. Time would tell whether or not he was ready for this new challenge, but she had convinced him he had done the right thing. And once she agreed to marry him, he would need to find a way to share what he had discovered about her mother.
He smiled at his staff. “I know you all have more important things to do than listen to speeches, so I intend to keep this short,” he told them. “I just want to say that I’d like you to consider me part of this team. My door will always be open if anyone of you ever needs anything, although I don’t plan on spending a lot of time keeping the chair in my office warm. I’ll be taking my turn on the front desk from time to time, and taking a few shifts on patrol, too.”
That garnered a round of silence tinged with disbelief.
“I know that wasn’t Chief Fenwick’s style,” he continued. “I also know I have a big pair of shoes to fill, but I have my own way of doing things. Some of you might have heard the rumor I was looking for a change when I left Chicago and took this position,” he said. “Well, that wasn’t a rumor, it’s the truth, but I don’t want a free ride. Police work is my life, and I’m not planning to give it up.”
He could feel the men and women in the room settle in, loosen up. “I would like to ask a couple of favors. I’m sure you’ve all heard the buzz about the alleged garden-gnome thief who’s been terrorizing our town.”
That drew a few laughs, and he joined them.
“It’s likely a handful of youthful pranks coinciding with a few cases of folks putting things away and not remembering where they put them.” He was sure his mother fell into the second category.
“But good police work means keeping an open mind and not letting our judgment be clouded by preconceptions, so if you see anyone skulking around residences, especially the ones in the old quarter closest to downtown, feel free to cuff them and bring them in.” He glanced around the room. “You might even make it into that blog everyone’s been talking about.”
More light laughter.
“On a more serious note, the other favor concerns the young Daniels woman who was picked up a couple of weeks ago. She spent a week here, then she left, and now she’s back and working at the Riverton Bar & Grill. She’s a key witness in that triple homicide in Chicago, and I still have a vested interest in the case. If you notice any peculiar behavior, I want to hear about it, no matter how inconsequential it may seem. If you suspect she’s drinking and driving, pull her over and bring her in.”
Jack’s request was met with a round of nods.
“That’s it for me. Unless anyone has anything they’d like to add, let’s get back to work, or to enjoying those days off.”
After some handshakes and shoulder slapping, the officers drifted to the front desk, the report writing room or to the parking lot. Jack watched them go, then refilled his coffee cup and carried it to his office. Today, he would be keeping his chair warm while he pored over the files sitting beneath Emily’s horseshoe. He checked his phone, and smiled nervously when he saw a text from her. She had gone for her first ultrasound that morning, and it had practically killed him not to be there with her. He hadn’t realized until now how anxious he’d been feeling.
Bet U knocked their sox off 2day. Saw baby move. Heart beating like crazy. All’s well. Em
The image from the ultrasound was attached. Jack lowered himself into his chair, not taking his eyes off the screen. He hated text messages, and this monitor was too small to reveal much detail in the gray blur. Emily’s message sounded so matter-of-fact, but surely she must be excited. He hadn’t even been there, and he was experiencing waves of emotions he couldn’t begin to identify. Next time she had one of these appointments, nothing would keep him away. Right now, though, he had two important tasks at hand. One was learning how to run a police force, and the other was figuring out how to make sure Emily Finnegan said “yes” the next time he asked that all-important question.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
EMILY CLATTERED DOWN the stairs to the door and then dashed the half block to the Riverton Bar & Grill where she was meeting Fred for lunch. She was excited to tell him about the ultrasound, and since she’d already told Jack and sent the picture to him, she felt sharing her excitement was justified. And who wouldn’t be excited? Jack was here in Riverton, he had started his new job today, everything was beginning to look perfectly...perfect.
Inside, she was surprised Fred wasn’t sitting in their usual booth. Odd because he had texted to say he was already there. Glancing around, she spied him perched on a stool at the bar, which was also odd. He leaned forward, elbows on the counter, engaged in an animated conversation with the young woman behind the counter, who looked suspiciously like... Rose? What was she doing here?
“Hi,” Emily said as she approached them.
Fred swung around, his smile wide. “Hey, you’re here. I thought we could sit at the counter today.” Fred already had a cup of coffee in front of him.
“But our spot is over there,” she said, pointing to their booth. Emily always sat on the side facing the front window because she liked to see who was coming and going, and Fred always sat opposite her, facing the bar so he could keep an eye on news headlines and sports scores flashing across the screen of the wall-mounted television. They never sat at the counter, and Emily was less inclined than ever to switch up their routine.
Fred patted the stool next to him. Emily tried to think up a plausible excuse for not sitting there. Unable to come up with anything, she sighed and took a seat.
Rose handed her a menu. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Sure. Coffee. Decaf, please. This is a surprise. It’s Rose, right?”
“Yeah. Your sister Annie knew I was looking for work, so she put in a good word for me with the owner. It’s my first day.” Rose turned to the coffee machine, poured a cup from the orange-topped carafe, and set it in front of Emily. “Fresh brewed a few minutes ago.”
“Thanks.” Emily lowered her gaze to the menu. Although she could have recited every item, including prices, from memory—and she’d decided on the soup-and-salad combo even before she had arrived—she pretended to give it her full attention while she surreptitiously focused on the conversation between Fred and Rose.
“You’ll like Riverton,” he said. “Especially once you get to know everyone. Right, Em? Great people, great place to live.”
“Mmm-hmm. Not a lot of exciting things for young people to do, though.” Young people? She couldn’t believe she’d said that. Way to make yourself sound like an old woman.
Fred gave her a quizzical look.
“Oh, I’m not looking for excitement,” Rose said. “Back in Chicago, my life was basically boring. When I wasn’t at work, I mostly stayed home or hung out with a few friends.”
Emily wasn’t buying it. Nothing about Rose even hinted at a cloistered kind of lifestyle, least of all her attitude, which was more big-city street kid than stuffy small-town girl, and she had the wardrobe to back it up. And now that Rose was back, Emily was once again bothered by Rose’s apparent lack of identity. These days someone her age would have some kind of online presence. Rose was a mystery. And when Emily encountered a mystery, she immediately wanted to solve it.
However, today Rose had toned down her excessive use of black eyeliner and mascara. Her short black hair was tucked neatly behind her ears, the long, purple-streaked bangs were swept to one side, and her oversize silver hoop earrings swung every time she moved. She wore a pair of black jeans that made her look superskinny, a short-sleeved white top and a pink, black and white print scarf that Emily recogni
zed as Annie’s. Was Rose back at the B & B? And what was her sister thinking? Helping this girl get a job here, lending her clothes. Unless Rose had helped herself to the scarf without bothering to ask.
Emily interrupted her own thoughts. Her instincts told her Rose was not to be trusted, but there was nothing to suggest the young woman was a thief. And why would she steal a scarf and then wear it in public, in a place where Annie might show up in person, given that she had helped Rose get the job?
“What about a boyfriend?” Fred asked.
And it was Emily’s turn to fire a giant, silent question mark in his direction.
Rose’s pale skin turned pink. She shook her head.
Fred smiled.
Seriously? Seriously? He was flirting with Rose. Emily wanted to smack him. What was he thinking? Not only was this young woman not the least bit suitable for him, she wasn’t likely to be in town for long.
It’s none of your business.
But it was her business. Fred was her best friend, and she didn’t want to see him get hurt. Yes, he deserved to have someone special in his life, but Rose was not that person.
“So, Rose,” Emily said. “It’s Rose Danvers, right? Where were you working before you left Chicago?”
A cup and saucer rattled in Rose’s hand.
Fred’s eyebrows drew together. “Danvers? Didn’t you say your last name is Daniels?”
She nodded. “That’s right.”
“Oh,” Emily said. “My apologies. I was sure Annie told me it was Danvers. Maybe she was confused.” As if that could ever happen. “Or I might have misunderstood.”
Rose shrugged, and Emily guessed it was an attempt to look nonchalant.
You’re not fooling me, Rose Daniels. Or whatever your name is.
Emily thought back to the conversation she’d had with Annie right after Rose had checked into the B & B. She had not misunderstood what Annie told her, and she was equally sure Annie had not confused Daniels with Danvers. She had her guests fill in a registration form when they checked in. However, Annie had admitted she hadn’t asked for ID to verify the name on the form. Normally, she would compare the name on the form with the one on the credit card. But Rose had paid cash, claiming she didn’t have one.
