by Tawny Weber
Still, he took a swig of the beer. Never hurt to be prepared.
“We’ve tracked the source. As far as we can tell, there’s only one suspect.”
Caleb waited silently. Most people, when faced with six feet two inches of brooding intimidation blurted out secrets faster than a gumball machine spewed candy. But Hunter wasn’t most people.
“A reliable source tipped me to the suspect.”
Caleb dropped the chair back on all four legs, bracing himself.
“Tobias Black.”
Caleb mentally reared back as if he’d taken a fist to the face. He managed to keep his actual reaction contained to a wince, though. So much for bracing himself.
“He’s out of the game,” Caleb said, throwing Hunter’s own words back at him. He didn’t know if it was true, though. Sure, his father might claim he’d quit the con, gone straight. But the only thing Tobias was better at than playing the game was lying. Still, while cons were one thing, drugs were an ugly place Tobias wouldn’t go.
“He’s been making noises lately.” Hunter’s dark gaze was steady as he watched Caleb.
“Noises don’t equal manufacturing drugs.”
Hunter just stared.
Fuck.
“It’s not his style,” Caleb said, none of his frustration coming through in his tone. “I’m not defending him-without a doubt, he’s a crook, a con and a shill. The man’s spent his life pulling swindle after scam. But he operates on his own. Drugs come with partners. Unreliable, unpredictable partners.”
Which had been the crux of his family’s explosion. Tobias had found himself a lady friend. A lonely widower, he’d become a cliché, falling hard for a nice rack and promises made between the sheets. She must have been damn good, because she’d blinded the king of cons into letting her into his game. Fifty-fifty split.
His little sister, Maya, had screamed betrayal, claiming her father cared more about his bimbo than his own kids, the memory of his late wife and the legacy they’d built together.
His younger brother, Gabriel, had been pissed over losing half the take.
Caleb had just seen it as a sign to get the hell out.
He ignored Hunter’s arched brow. For the first time since sitting down, Caleb looked away. His gaze rested on the mirrored wall behind Hunter. In it, he could see the tattoo on his own biceps. The sharp, snarling teeth of the lone wolf was clearly visible beneath the black sleeve of his T-shirt.
A teenager’s ode to the father he’d worshipped before the idol had fallen. An adult’s acceptance of the simple fact of life-that he could depend on no one.
“What do you want me to do?” Caleb asked, swinging his eyes back to Hunter.
“Just nose around. You can get into town, get close to the right people, without arousing suspicion. Nobody there, other than your father, knows you’re DEA, right?”
Caleb shrugged. “Most think I’m the lowlife I use as a cover. The rest probably figure I was shivved in prison years ago.”
“That’ll work.”
Caleb sighed. He could walk away. It wasn’t his gig and nobody was pulling his strings. But Hunter’s accusation was a game changer. Whatever went down, Caleb would be the one uncovering the truth. How or what he’d do with it, he had no clue.
“I’m not making any promises,” Caleb said. “Dear ole dad isn’t much for welcoming the prodigal back into the fold, you know.”
“I have faith in your powers of persuasion.”
Caleb smirked, tilting his beer bottle in thanks. “You’re buying.”
“One last question,” Hunter said as Caleb pushed back from the table.
“Yeah?”
“Do you really do Christmas shopping?” For the first time that night, emotion showed on Hunter’s face. Skepticism with a dash of amusement.
“Yeah. But now you can consider this little favor your gift, instead of the blow-up doll.” Caleb stood, shrugging into his worn denim jacket. “She was a nice one, too. Vibrated and everything.”
2
A LUNCH-LADEN TRAY held high over her head, Pandora nodded at Fifi’s frantic signal to let her know she’d make her way into the store as soon as she could.
Rehiring Fifi, a young blonde as cute as her name, was the second smartest thing Pandora had done since she’d taken over the store. The first, of course, was to serve up the promise of hot sex.
She wound her way through the throng of customers packing the solarium attached to the back of the store. It was amazing how a few tables, some chairs and minimal investment had transformed what two months ago had been storage into Pandora’s brainchild, the Moonspun Café.
All it’d taken was a list of her skills, a couple bottles of wine with Kathy and a huge hunk of Pandora’s favorite seven-layer chocolate cake to nail down the details. She’d spent years off and on working in restaurants. She was a really good pastry chef, but sandwiches and salads had been an easy enough thing to add to the menu.
Between Great-Grammy’s cookbooks, a list of foods reputed to be aphrodisiacs and the judicious start of a few rumors, and she’d launched the lunch-only venture last month.
And it was a hit. If this kept up, Pandora was thinking about starting a little mail-order business. Sexy sweets, aphrodisiac-laced treats for lovers. A great idea, if she did say so herself. And-ha!-one that didn’t require any special family talent.
She grinned and shifted the heavy tray off her shoulder.
“Here you go, the Hot-Cha-Cha Chicken on toasted sourdough for two, a side of French-kissing fries and ginseng-over-ice tea,” she recited as she set the aphrodisiac-laced lunch order on the small iron table between a couple of octogenarians giving each other googly eyes.
Pandora carefully kept her gaze above the table as she smiled into the couple’s wrinkled faces. Yesterday, she’d bent down to pick up a dropped fork and saw more than she’d bargained for. She’d never be able to look librarian Loretta and the office-supply delivery guy in the eye again after seeing Loretta fondle his dewy decimals.
“This looks lovely, dear,” said the elderly woman, who’s granddaughter had babysat Pandora back in the day. The woman giggled and shot the age-freckled man across from her a naughty look before adding, “You’ll bring us up a slice of the molten hot-chocolate cake, won’t you?”
“Wrap that cake up to go,” the gentleman said, his voice huge in his frail body. “We’ve got a little siesta loving planned.”
Pandora tried not to wince. She loved how well this little venture was taking off, but holy cow! She sure wished people wouldn’t equate her making their sexy treats with wanting to hear the resulting deets.
Proving that wishes rarely came true, Mrs. Sellers leaned closer and whispered, “Since you started serving up these yummy lunches, I haven’t had to fake it once. This stuff is better than Viagra. Now my sweet Merv, here, is a sex maniac.”
Ack, there were so many kinds of wrong in that sentence, Pandora couldn’t even wrap her mind around it. Trying to block the images the words inspired, she winced and shook her head so fast her hair got stuck in her eyelashes. “No. Oh, no, Mrs. Sellers. Don’t thank me.”
“Don’t be modest, young lady. You’ve done so much for the sex drive of Black Oak as a whole. Not just us seniors, either. I heard Lola, my daughter’s hairdresser who can’t be much older than you, telling the gals at the salon how you’ve saved her marriage with your mead-and sexy-spiced chocolate-dipped strawberries.”
What was she supposed to say to that? All she could come up with was a weak smile and a murmured thanks. She caught Fifi’s wave again and held up one finger to let the girl know she was on her way.
“My favorites are those sweet-nothings ginger cookies, Pandora. I’d ask for your recipe, but I know you put a little something special in there. You have your gramma’s magic touch, don’t you?” Mrs. Sellers joked, poking a bony elbow into Pandora’s thigh. “Your mom must have been so happy to have you come back to Black Oak. Are you running the store on your own now?”
/> “Mom’s thrilled,” Pandora said, the memory of Cassiopeia’s excitement at her daughter’s plans to save the store filling her with joy. “But if you’ll excuse me, I need to check in with Fifi. Don’t forget to look over the fabulous specials for the holiday season. We’re offering a Christmas discount in the store for our diners, if you wanted to do a little shopping.”
With another smile for her favorite elderly couple, Pandora gratefully excused herself and hurried over to the wide, bead-draped doorway that separated Moonspun Dreams’ retail side from the café.
“What’s wrong?” Pandora asked.
Two months ago, whenever she’d asked that question it was because the store seemed to be spiraling into failure. She’d been freaked about vendors demanding payment, customers complaining about a lack of variety in the tarot card stock or, on one horrific occasion, a mouse so big it had scared the cats.
In the past five weeks, Moonspun Dreams had done a one-eighty. Now she had vendors begging her to take two-for-one discounts, customers complaining about waiting in too long a line and the health department stopping in for lunch.
And yet, her trepidation of that question hadn’t lessened one iota. Funny how that worked.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Fifi said, her smile huge as she bounced on the balls of her feet like a kid about to sit on Santa’s lap. “Sheriff Hottie’s here again. Lucky girl, this is the third time he’s been in this week. He’s the best catch in Black Oak. And he’s here to see you.”
Pandora’s smile was just a little stiff. It wasn’t that she had anything against Sheriff Hottie, otherwise known as Jeff Kendall. He was a nice guy. A former class president, Jeff had an affable sort of charm that half the women in town were crazy about. She glanced over to where he was chatting with a shaggy-haired guy who kept coming in to moon over Fifi and winced.
She had no idea why he rubbed her wrong. Her mother would claim it was intuition or her gift for reading people. But Pandora knew she had neither.
Christmas carols crooned softly through the speakers, singing messages of hope as she crossed the room. It took a minute, since the space was filled with shoppers, quite a few with questions.
“Sheriff,” she greeted as she stepped behind the counter. She offered him a friendly smile, then folded her hands together before he could offer to shake one. “What can I do for you today?”
He gave her an appreciative glance and a friendly smile that made it easy to see why the town called him Sheriff Hottie. Blue eyes sparkled and a manly dimple winked. Still, a part of her wished she could be back in the café, listening to Mrs. Sellers share the details of her last passionate excursion with Merv the sex maniac.
“Pandora, looks like business is booming nicely for a weekday,” he observed, his eyes on her rather than the store. He was tall, easily six feet, and still carried the same nice build that’d made him a star quarterback in school. “Cassiopeia must be thrilled. Is she coming home soon?”
Having combined her yearly spiritual sabbatical with the psychics’ conference, Cassiopeia was still in Sedona, Arizona. Pandora’s mother was, hopefully, too busy balancing her chi to be worrying about the store.
“She’s due home by Yule,” Pandora answered. At his puzzled glance, she amended it to, “The week before Christmas.”
“Ah, gotcha. Your mom is really into that New Agey stuff, isn’t she?”
Pandora just shrugged. She wanted to hide away from that friendly look. There was no innuendo, no rudeness, but she still felt dirty. Instead, she made a show of lifting Bonnie, cuddling her close so that the cat was a furry curtain between Pandora’s body and the sheriff’s gaze.
“My mother’s interests are many-faceted. Right now, I’m sure if she were here, she’d be asking if you’d finished your holiday shopping, Sheriff. We’re running a few specials in the café and have a stocking-stuffer sale on tumbled stones and crystals today. Maybe you’d like to check it out?”
“Maybe. But I’m thinking if I did all my shopping now, I wouldn’t have an excuse to come back and visit you every day,” he said, putting a heavy dose of flirt in his tone. Leaning one elbow on the counter, he gave her a smoldering look before he glanced at the shoppers milling around, many with wicker baskets filled with merchandise swinging on their arms.
“I really am blown away by how you’ve increased business here,” he said. “That whole aphrodisiac angle is really drawing them in, isn’t it? How’d you come up with that? Don’t tell me it’s from personal experience or I might have a heart attack.”
His flirty grin was easy, the look in his eyes friendly and fun. Pandora still inwardly cringed.
“Actually,” she corrected meticulously, her fingers defiantly combing through the soft, fluffy fur of the cat, “the recipes have been handed down from my great-grandmother. Do you remember her? She’s the one with all the experience.”
Pandora tried not to smirk when his smile dimmed a little. Nothing like offering up the image of a white-haired old lady to diffuse a guy’s sexy talk.
“How about dinner Friday night?” he said. “I’ll pick you up at seven and you can tell me all about your great-grandma and her recipes.”
What a stubborn man. But she was just as stubborn. She knew she had no reason to refuse-that she was getting a weird vibe wasn’t good enough-but still, Pandora shook her head.
“I’m sorry, but no,” she told him. Then, seeing the disappointment in his gaze, she tried to soften her words with a smile.
“I really wish you’d change your mind,” Sheriff Kendall said, reaching over Bonnie to give Pandora’s cheek a teasing sort of pinch. She gasped, her fingers clenching the cat’s fur. Whether it was in protest, or because the sheriff was just too close, Bonnie hissed and leaped from Pandora’s arms.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, stepping back so she and her cheek were out of reach. “I’m trying to focus on the store right now. I need to get us back on our feet before I start thinking about dating.”
“Okay. I understand.” He offered that friendly smile again and turned to go. Then he looked back. “Just so you know, though, I plan to keep coming back until I change your mind.”
Crap.
She waited until he stepped over Paulie, who carpeted the welcome mat like a boneless blanket of fur, and watched him slide behind the wheel of the police cruiser he’d parked to blocking the door. Then she almost wilted as the tension she hadn’t realized was tying her in knots seeped from her shoulders.
“No offense, boss, but you’re crazy,” Fifi declared, stepping next to Pandora and offering a sad shake of her head. “I’d do anything to date the sexy sheriff. I can’t believe you turned him down.”
What was she supposed to say? That her internal warning system was screaming out against the guy? That same system had hummed like a happy kitten over Sean.
So obviously, the system sucked.
She gave Fifi a tiny grimace and said, “I guess I might have been a little hasty turning him down.”
“A little? More like a lot crazy. Dude’s a serious heart-throb.”
Pandora grinned as the blonde gave her heart a thump-thumping pat.
“Okay,” she decided, squaring her shoulders against the sick feeling in her stomach. Just nerves about dipping back into the dating pond, she was sure. “I’ll tell you what. The next time he asks, I’ll say yes.”
Fifi’s cheer garnered a few stares and a lot of smiles, especially from the young man with shaggy brown hair who was watching her like an adoring puppy.
Well, there you have it, Pandora decided with a grin of her own. The town obviously approved.
Ten minutes later, Pandora was ringing up a customer and still worrying over whether Sean had ruined her for all men, when a sugary-sweet voice grated down her spine.
“My mother said there was a blown-glass piece in here she thought I’d like as a Christmas gift. She probably mixed up the store names again, though, poor dear. I don’t see anything in here I need.”
Crap
. Pandora took a deep breath, gesturing with her chin for Fifi to close up the café for her. This would probably take a while. She’d gone to high school with Lilah Gomez, and eight years later the other woman still held the privilege of being Pandora’s least favorite person-which, given the events of this last year, was really saying something.
Knowing the importance of not showing weakness to her sworn enemy, she cleared her face of all expression and turned to the brunette.
“Your mother has excellent taste. Too bad she didn’t pass it, and the ability to dress appropriately, on to her only daughter,” Pandora said sweetly. She made a show of looking the other woman up and down, taking in her red pleather tunic with its low-cut, white fur-trimmed neckline that showed off her impressively expensive breasts. She raised a brow at the shimmery black leggings and a pair of do-me heeled boots that would make any dominatrix proud. “What do you call this look? Holiday hussy?”
“I’m the customer here. Why don’t you put on your cute-little-clerk hat and show me whatever overpriced joke my mother saw so I can reject it and go shop in a real store.”
“From where I’m standing, which is right next to the cash register, in the handful of times you’ve been in Moonspun Dreams you’ve never bought a single thing. So you’re not a customer. You’re a loiterer.”
Lilah responded with a haughty look. She’d never bothered with her frenemy act before. Probably because she knew that Pandora would see right through it. Instead, the brunette leaned both elbows on the counter and bent forward to say under her breath, “You’d know crime, now, wouldn’t you? What was it you were busted for? Something to do with drugs? Or was it lying?”
The only thing that persuaded Pandora to unclench her teeth was the fact that she couldn’t afford to get them fixed if one broke. Instead, she turned on the heel of her own unslutty boots and retrieved a blown-glass peacock, each feather shimmering delicately in the light.
Before she’d even set the piece on the counter, she could see the covetous spark in Lilah’s eyes. But instead of saying she liked it, the other woman turned her nose to the air and gave a sniff.
