Wanted--The Perfect Mom

by T. R. McClure

  “And Ms. King, well, maybe she looks like Anne, but she isn’t Anne.”

  Mac nodded, his gaze downcast. “I know.”

  Holly took another breath. “And Edna the cat lady, well, goes without saying, you two were not a match.”

  Mac lifted his gaze and met hers. “You mean Eliza.” He smiled. “I sneezed for two days and I only visited her at the library.”

  “Getting back into the dating scene was an important step for you.” Holly’s palms dampened as her heartbeat accelerated.

  Mac’s brows knit. “What are you getting at?”

  “The perfect wife for you and the perfect mother for Riley is...Laura Norton, the new first-grade teacher.”

  Mac’s hand jerked, spilling coffee on the flowered comforter. Holly grabbed a tissue and blotted at the stain. Maybe she should have eased into the topic of Mac’s future wife a little more slowly.

  * * *

  FRIDAY MORNING MAC sat next to Holly on the couch in the coffee shop. How could she not know how I feel? To be fair, he hadn’t been sure himself until he’d seen her stretched out on the floor of the coffee shop. They had spent the summer together getting to know each other again, yet yesterday morning she had practically married him off to a woman he’d met twice. After learning about Louise’s tragedy, he realized he wasn’t the only one to have experienced loss, that maybe it was time to stop wallowing in grief. Then he remembered Riley’s accident in the coffee shop, and the scare at the fair, and realized his feelings didn’t matter. Riley’s welfare came first.

  He looked around at the store owners who had gathered early to discuss the interrupted robbery. Mac hadn’t wanted Holly to come, but his protests had fallen on deaf ears. At least Carolyn and Louise, insisting she rest, stood behind the counter, providing caffeine to the group who, at the moment, was all talking at once.

  Mac held up his hands. “Wait a minute, everybody. One at a time.”

  Sue paced back and forth across the middle of the room, her face a mask of anger. “What are you doing to catch these culprits, Mac? It might not seem like much money to you but I can’t afford one cent.”

  “Well—”

  “You’ve known about this for months but have you done anything? No, you haven’t, and here Holly is getting hurt—”

  “Now, wait just a minute, Sue—” Mac found himself wishing Brad Hunter would come to his senses soon so Sue would stop attacking every male in sight. On the other hand, the woman had a point.

  “Hey.” Holly’s shout stilled every voice in the room. “I’ve still got my parade-ground voice.” She smiled, then grew serious. “I appreciate your concern but I’m fine. And by the way, they didn’t touch the money in the cash register.”

  “You scared them off when you woke up,” Sue said.

  Sitting in one of the cushioned chairs sipping an espresso, Pierre waved his fingers in the air. “Maybe it’s because they only want a few dollars, maybe somebody who is short of cash—”

  “Well, don’t look at me. I work for every dollar I make.” Sue ran a hand through her short, bleached-blond hair, causing the strands to stick straight up.

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake, Sue, put a lid on it.” Cheri leaned both elbows on the counter and fingered one of her big hoop earrings. “You act like you’re the only one who works hard.”

  Mac propped his elbows on his knees and stared at the floor, obviously thinking. When he looked up he had come to a decision. “We’ll keep up the patrols in the area and hope that we spot something. In the meantime, let us know if you see anything suspicious.” He looked at Holly and wondered again how she could feel nothing when he was beginning to think they were meant for each other.

  * * *

  HOLLY POURED COFFEE into two extra-large take-out cups, fitted lids on both and set them by the cash register. She rinsed the coffee urns and set them upside down to drain. Mac and Moose had been doing surveillance on the mall each night since the break-in. Grabbing the cups, she hurried toward the door, shutting off the light on her way out.

  Holly crossed the street and slipped around the corner of the hardware store. She could barely make out Mac’s patrol car in the dark shadow cast by the three-story building. “I brought you coffee. Since you’re going to be up all night I figured you could use the caffeine.”

  Mac accepted the cup and set it on the dash. “Thanks, Holly. I took a nap this afternoon but these stakeouts can drag.” He noticed the cup in her hand. “Are you visiting?”

  Holly sipped her coffee. “I’m joining you.”

  Mac sighed. “Again? Remember what happened last time?” He sat back, cup in hand, staring across the street at the five storefronts.

  “I do. We found Sue on the floor.”

  The streetlight in front of the hardware store illuminated scattered paper cups and soda cans. She drummed her fingers on the console, the noise loud in the confines of the car.

  Mac covered her hand with his, stilling her fingers. “Holly, this is serious. You could have been badly hurt. These thieves could be just some locals looking for quick money or they could be tied to the drug trade out of the city. We don’t know who we’re dealing with.”

  “I know,” Holly muttered.

  Just as on their first stakeout, the sound of a barking dog came through Mac’s open window. The same deep voice shouted, “Be quiet.”

  Holly shifted her position. “Don’t you get bored on stakeout?”

  Mac glanced out the open window and then returned his gaze to The Wildflower. “We’re trained to stay alert.”

  Holly leaned her head back on the seat and thought about the thefts taking place in the county since the beginning of summer. Petty thefts of baked goods were one thing, but robbing the local bank branch was something else. She kept her voice low as she turned to Mac. “Do you think we know them?”

  Mac hesitated. “We might. Like you said, you think you know someone...” He gave Holly the ghost of a smile.

  “Do you have any suspects in mind?”

  “Well, actually, I can’t figure out how the Smith brothers’ finances have had such a turnaround in the past few months.” He waved a finger in front of her face. “And don’t you dare repeat what I just said.”

  “Those two have lived on that farm all their lives. They’re locals.” She batted away his waving finger. “Ms. King’s not a local. She dresses like a big-city gal. Maybe she’s a kleptomaniac.”

  “Are you jealous? It’s that blonde-brunette rivalry, isn’t it? I’ve heard the feud goes back centuries.”

  “Very funny.” Holly took a deep breath. “Can I ask you something?”

  Mac grunted.

  Holly wasn’t sure if the grunt was a yes or a no but she continued with the question she had wanted to ask since the first day he’d appeared in her coffee shop. “Why were you so mean to me?”

  Mac had been still before but at her question she could feel the tenseness radiating from his body. “What are you talking about?”

  Holly propped her elbow on her open window. The dog barked again, and again a deep voice told the dog to be quiet. Despite the fact they were parked in a vacant lot with its share of refuse, the night air carried the scent of roses. “Chris brought you to the family Christmas party. We had fun. Then school started and your gym class and mine were the same period and you turned into this—”

  “Your family was so perfect,” Mac said. “Everybody’s happy, nothing ever goes wrong. After what I had been through—”

  Holly stared at him in surprise. “We’re not perfect.”

  “Sure, you are, even now. Everybody’s happily married to their childhood sweetheart, well, except Chris, and his story reads like a romance novel.”

  “I’m not married to my childhood sweetheart.” The words came out before she could stop them, but then, sh
e had said them low enough she was pretty sure Mac didn’t hear. “Did you know Sonny and Carolyn almost divorced?”

  Mac narrowed his eyes. “You’re making that up.”

  Holly shook her head. “When they found out she was pregnant with twins, Sonny wanted her to quit college and Carolyn refused. Then Dad took Sonny’s side and Mom took Carolyn’s side. It wasn’t pretty. Carolyn moved in with her mother until Sonny came to his senses.” She chuckled. “Trust me, we are not a perfect family. That’s only one story of many.” Then she remembered her original question. “But why were you so mean to me?”

  “Well...” Mac drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “I suppose it might have something to do with losing my father and you—” he turned and caught her gaze “—being the apple of your father’s eye.”

  “Ha, not anymore.” She tilted her head to the side. “Is that what you want, Mac? A perfect family? Did you have that with Anne?”

  “For a while.” Mac’s response was almost inaudible.

  Holly bit her lip. Why did she insist on putting herself through this torture? Mac was right. She should’ve stayed home. “Do you remember the time you, Chris and I went riding and your horse came back without you?” Eyes closed, Holly stretched her legs as far as she could in the confines of the SUV and pictured the paint mare trotting down the lane with the stirrups flapping at her side. She tried but couldn’t hold back the chuckle. When she received no answer from the other seat, Holly opened her eyes.

  Mac’s lips turned down in a decisive frown. “To this day I think that horse dumped me on purpose.”

  Holly pictured the pretty paint mare and tried to remember whose horse Mac had borrowed. “Whose horse was she anyway?”

  Mac’s answer was a growl. “I borrowed Sonny’s horse.”

  “Oh, right. You borrowed Pepper. Sonny finally sold her to a girl who needed a horse for team roping. She was fast.”

  “Tell me about it.” Mac’s voice was low.

  “I don’t think she liked men.” A cat slunk past the patrol car.

  “Excuse me?”

  “How can you guys sit in one spot for so long?” Holly rearranged herself in the seat, trying in vain to find a comfortable spot. “Anyway, I was saying, I don’t think Pepper liked men.”

  He leaned across the console, his eyebrows scrunched. “So why was she Sonny’s horse?”

  Holly shrugged. “She was so beautiful. When she was in the field with the rest of the herd you could pretend you were out West somewhere looking at a herd of mustangs.” She sighed at the vivid memory.

  “Did Sonny pick her?”

  “I missed seeing Riley today,” Holly said. “What did she do?”

  Mac put a finger under her chin and turned her to face him. “Did Sonny pick the horse or did you?”

  Holly grinned and wrapped her hand around his finger. “It was a long time ago and it’s hard to remember...but I might’ve put my two cents’ worth into the discussion.”

  Mac leaned back in his seat and chuckled. “Oh, man. Poor Sonny. So did he get another horse?”

  “Nah, he got a motorcycle. Remember the red dirt bike he had? That’s what he bought with the money from selling the horse.” She shifted in her seat. “So...what did your daughter do today?”

  “Mom took her to a movie, but not before making me promise to take her next time. Maybe you could come along.”

  If only... She gave him a smile. “You know who you should take?”

  “Who?”

  “Miss Norton.” She was surprised at the effort it took to say the name, although it was easier than the first time, back in Mac’s guest bedroom.

  “Not this again.” Mac rubbed at his eyes.

  “She’s the type you’re looking for, right?”

  “I don’t know what I’m looking for and—”

  “That’s Mister Cee.”

  Mac’s head jerked toward her. “What?”

  “The shadow you just saw on the porch...that’s the tabby cat. Remember? He’s the one who told us Sue was in trouble. Like Lassie, only he’s a cat.”

  Mac sighed.

  “He likes cappuccinos. But coffee’s not good for animals so I froth the milk and let it cool. We call him Mister Cee because Mister Cappuccino takes too long to say.”

  Holly drummed her fingers on the console. Once again Mac’s hand silenced them.

  “Read my lips. Stakeout.”

  The gleam in Mac’s eyes told her he was losing his patience. “Okay. You won’t hear another peep out of me.” Holly zipped her lips with her thumb and forefinger. She sipped her coffee and stared straight ahead, thinking of Mac and his search for the perfect family.

  Mac’s low voice broke the silence. “You should go home and go to bed.”

  Holly shrugged. “Believe it or not, I’m not tired.”

  * * *

  FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER Holly was slumped against the window, breathing rhythmically. She must have developed an immunity to caffeine. Mac eased the cup out of her fingers and placed it in the cup holder.

  Holly always managed to get her own way—from putting Riley on Twister, to training Frosty. It was only a matter of time before she and Riley brought up Riley riding Frosty. He rubbed his chin. He had forgotten to shave that morning and his beard was rough against his fingers. Holly was smiling in her sleep. Probably thinking of the trick she’d played on her older brother with the man-hating horse.

  He tore his gaze from her face and perused the buildings across the street.

  As usual, one light remained on in each of the storefronts. So far, nothing had moved. He reached for his cup and saw something out of the corner of his eye.

  He picked up the mike and keyed it. “I have movement.”

  Parked in the alley behind the stores, Moose picked up immediately. “Where?”

  “The Cookie Jar.” Mac eased out of the car and closed the door without waking Holly. He stayed in the shadows of the hardware store. Talking into the mike at his shoulder, he eased around the front of the building. “Are you in position?”

  He heard a grunt and then a muffled “Yeah” from the other officer.

  Mac stayed in the shadows until he was directly across from the bakery. He ran quietly across the street.

  He pressed his back against the door, pushed it open and yelled, “Freeze.” Mac flicked on the light switch.

  The doors to the baked goods case stood open. Dark forms huddled on the floor. He held his gun in both hands and moved forward, careful to survey the rest of the store. “Williams?”

  “I’m here.” The big man appeared from the kitchen, also holding his gun in a two-handed grip. He could see the culprits from his standpoint. Mac couldn’t so he was surprised when Moose lowered the gun a fraction and told them to stand.

  Two frightened faces peered over the top of the pastry case. “Are you kidding me?” Mac said.

  If Mac hadn’t recognized the footsteps pounding behind him, he and his gun would have gone flying as Holly ran into the store and crashed into his back. As it was, he had to brace himself. Looking over Mac’s shoulder, Holly repeated his words. “Are you kidding me?”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  ONE O’CLOCK IN the morning and the six adults sitting in The Wildflower looked exhausted. The two teenagers looked plain scared.

  Standing, his back to the counter, Ethan Johnson spoke first. “This was all my idea. I thought sneaking into places without anybody knowing would be exciting, kind of like espionage.”

  Adam McClain poked him with his elbow. “We did it because I never had any money to go out. It’s my fault. We just took a little bit so it wasn’t really stealing.” The teenager finally looked at his parents, who sat on the couch. Matt had his head in his hands. “We took change to play the games at
the park.”

  Adam’s mother, Dottie, looked furious, her normally pale complexion a bright red. “These people provided us with work, Adam. How could you do this to them? Not to mention, it’s wrong. We taught you better than this. What kind of example are you setting for your brothers and sisters?”

  Adam hung his head, mumbling, “I’m sorry. The whole idea was stupid.”

  Mac sighed. He had intended to take the boys to the police station, but Holly had convinced him to call the parents and talk to everyone in her shop. Now he wasn’t so sure he’d done the right thing. Holly perched on the arm of his chair.

  Ethan’s parents, Tom and Laura Johnson, sat at a table nearby. “Do you know how much money you’ve taken altogether?” Tom asked.

  Ethan met his father’s stern gaze. “I don’t think we took more than a couple hundred. We took the most from the computer store because he didn’t have much food other than candy bars and stuff. Most of the time we just took cookies—we didn’t think it would matter as much.”

  All four parents turned to Mac, who, rather than meet their eyes, looked at the floor. He was torn. The boys came from good families and their actions, rather than malicious, had been just plain stupid.

  “You know I have to bring them in and I have to take a statement from Holly. She was hurt during the commission of a crime. We’re talking assault. We’re talking breaking and entering. We can’t just sweep this under the rug.”

  Holly grimaced. “I know. But I’m okay and the cost of the food they took is minimal. Can’t we call this fiasco something else, something less...serious?”

  Mac sighed. “Maybe.” He stood and walked over to the two young men. “You’re free to go home with your parents, but I want to see all of you in my office at eleven o’clock. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” Both boys spoke in unison and each let out a huge sigh of relief. “Thank you, sir,” Adam added.

  Mac frowned. “Don’t thank me yet. This isn’t over.”

  * * *

  SEVEN HOURS LATER The Wildflower was jammed. News traveled fast in the small town. After the initial influx—and after Holly had provided everybody with free coffee—the crowd had settled into every available seat.