by Gina Wilkins
After a moment, Emily frowned. “That’s it? That’s all you needed from me?”
“That’s it for now. Thanks.”
“Um—why didn’t you just have me come by your office?”
He shrugged and took another bite of his sandwich, which tasted pretty good despite the restaurant’s obvious shortcomings. After swallowing, he explained, “I didn’t want you to be forced into any awkward explanations if anyone saw you being apparently interrogated in my office. And I knew I’d be hungry by this time. I’d seen this place a few times, and I thought it would be convenient for both of us, so...”
A fine cloud of dust drifted toward their table. On the other side of the room, Billy Ray wielded a broom with more vigor than skill.
Emily pushed the uneaten half of her pecan pie away. “I see. And now what?”
“Now I continue my investigation into Tammy Powell’s whereabouts.”
“I see.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “Any idea how much longer this investigation might take?”
“No, but try to relax about it. I’ve found no evidence whatever linking you to this or any other crime. As I’ve told you before, I consider you a very unlikely suspect.”
“Thank you,” she murmured. “But I’m still forbidden to leave town until the investigation is over, right?”
He studied her thoughtfully, wondering again at her impatience to leave Honoria. And, once again, he found himself reluctant to see her go. “There’s no reason you can’t leave town for a few days, as long as you let me know where you’re going, just as a formality. I have to at least make it look like I’m investigating you thoroughly, or Sam Jennings is likely to accuse me of incompetence. Again.”
Emily scowled. “I don’t have any plans to leave town for the moment, at least until after I’ve sold the house and made arrangements for my other things. But I don’t like feeling as if I’m trapped here.”
“And have you felt trapped here, Emily?” he asked, aware of the revealing undertones in her voice.
She looked down at her plate and nodded. “Sometimes,” she murmured.
“It doesn’t seem like such a bad place to be. With a few notable exceptions, the people of Honoria seem friendly and good-hearted. Crime’s low, weather’s nice, no traffic to speak of.”
“I didn’t say Honoria was a bad place,” she reminded him, just a bit defensive now. “But I’ve lived here all my life. For the past five years or more, I’ve been unable to leave for more than a day or two at a time because there was no one to take care of my father. Now that he’s gone, and nothing else is holding me here, this comes up. It just seems...unfair.”
Feeling inexplicably contrite, Wade said, “I’m sorry.”
“And the worst part is, I’ve never been the direct subject of gossip before. They talked about my mother and my brother and Savannah, but I’ve never done anything to bring attention to me. I still haven’t, but my reputation is in danger of being trashed, anyway. I hate that.”
“Emily, your reputation is not in danger of any kind. No one who really knows you will believe a word of this,” Wade replied emphatically. “And I’ve warned Jennings again to keep his unsubstantiated suspicious to himself.”
She looked up at him. “You, um, really don’t think anyone who knows me would believe I’m guilty of this?”
If she was asking what he believed, Wade had no problem answering candidly. “No,” he said. “I don’t.”
Her lower lip quivered, just a tiny bit, as if she’d been either touched or reassured by his words. Or both. Whatever the reason, it made Wade suddenly ravenously hungry...not for the rest of his sandwich, but for a taste of Emily.
She seemed to feel the need to fill the sudden taut silence between them with small talk. “How is Clay?”
Reining in his inappropriate emotions, Wade answered evenly. “Oh, he’s doing great. He sure enjoyed that Ferris-wheel ride with you Saturday. Talked about it all afternoon. And he refused to wash his face before he went to bed that night. Didn’t want to the next day, either, but since the paint had started to peel off by then, he finally agreed.”
“I’m glad he had a good time. He’s an adorable little boy.”
“Thanks. I guess it’s obvious that I’m pretty proud of him.”
Wade was pleased to see Emily smile again. “Yes,” she said. “That was obvious.”
Shamelessly playing on her obvious soft spot for his kid, Wade boasted, “Did I mention how smart he is? He’s got all As in school. He’s in third grade at Honoria Elementary.”
“Who’s his teacher?”
“Mrs. Flaherty.”
Emily’s smile widened. “Really? She was my third-grade teacher.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I was in one of her first classes. She was my all-time, favorite teacher.”
“Clay’s already very fond of her. I think she won him over when he saw the Star Wars poster on her wall the first day of school.”
“Clay likes Star Wars?”
“He’s obsessed. Watches the videos over and over. Plays with all the action toys. He’s dressing as Darth Vader for Halloween—again.”
“Goldfish and aliens.” Emily smiled. “You’ve got a cute kid, Chief.”
“I know. Thanks. Would you like something else to drink?”
Emily glanced at the still-blaring television, and then at Billy Ray, who’d stopped sweeping to lean against his broom and stare slack jawed at the violent movie. “No, I think I’ve had enough, thank you.”
Following the direction of her glance, Wade grinned. “Wouldn’t want to overstrain poor Billy Ray, would we?”
“No. He looks exhausted, poor thing,” Emily murmured, fighting a smile.
Wade pushed his chair back. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Are you off work now, or do you have to go back to the station?” Emily asked as they stepped outside.
“I have a few more things I need to do tonight. The good thing about working in a small town is that there’s less crime to deal with. The bad thing is that there are fewer of us available to take care of what we’ve got—like those break-ins that happened during the festival Saturday. I took a couple of hours off earlier to spend some time with Clay, then headed back to work after the housekeeper put him to bed at eight.”
“Oh, you have a housekeeper?”
Wade nodded. “Cecilia Sanchez. She’s our live-in housekeeper, nanny, cook and friend.”
Emily paused beside her car, turning to look at Wade. “She came with you from Atlanta?”
“Yeah. She’s been with us almost five years. Since Clay’s mother died,” he added.
He noted the look of distress that flashed across Emily’s face. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’d been told that you were widowed, but I didn’t realize that Clay was so very young when he lost his mother.”
He nodded, uncomfortable with her expression of sympathy. “I talked to Mary Kay again about your place yesterday,” he said, abruptly changing the subject. “Has she called you yet to set up an appointment?”
“I haven’t been home. She probably left a message on my answering machine, so I’ll call her to arrange something.”
“You—uh—still haven’t made any plans for after you sell your house? Once everything else is settled and you’re free to leave, that is?”
“No. I’m just ready to try something new. I know it’s an old cliché, but I guess I’m ready to go ‘find myself.’” She smiled wryly.
Wade didn’t wince, but he had to make an effort not to. He’d heard words to that effect before...from his wife. With disastrous results all around.
Hearing the same thing from Emily made him realize that asking her out—as he had fully intended to do before this evening ended—was probably not such a good idea. He no longer wanted to pursue relationships that would lead nowhere. Emily would obviously have no interest in a man whose only desire now was to settle into a comfortable home with his son in sleepy little Honoria.<
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“It isn’t always necessary to go someplace new to find yourself,” he couldn’t resist pointing out. “Happiness isn’t a place, you know. It’s a state of mind.”
“Yes, I know,” she said, but with a breeziness that left Wade wondering if she really believed him. “But I’m still looking forward to seeing places I’ve only read about until now.”
“I hope you’ll find what you’re looking for,” he said, and he meant that sincerely. He genuinely liked Emily McBride. He wanted her to be happy—even though he wasn’t sure that she would be in the footloose life she’d fantasized.
“Thank you,” she said, and smiled.
That smile made him reconsider his decision not to ask her out Okay, so maybe she was only going to be around for a couple more months. There was no reason they couldn’t spend a few pleasant evenings together, was there? He didn’t have to do anything stupid like fall in love with her, did he?
A beat-up old car sped past with a squeal of tires. Wade looked after it with a frown, making note of the license tag. “That O’Brien boy is speeding again. I can see I’m going to have to step up traffic patrol,” he murmured. “The teenagers around here like to drive just a little too fast—especially that one.”
Emily’s expression turned rueful. “They claim that fast driving is the most excitement to be had around here.”
“Sounds like maybe you agree with them.”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe in endangering lives by driving recklessly. But I do understand that kids get bored. There really isn’t much for them to do.”
“Someone should consider starting some afterschool programs for teens. But in the meantime, they’re going to have to learn that traffic rules will be enforced in this town while I’m on watch.”
Emily laughed. “You sound just like a cop.”
He couldn’t resist reaching out to touch her, though he contented himself with teasing the ends of her golden curls. “I am a cop.”
He didn’t think he was imagining the awareness in her eyes when she looked at him. Emily didn’t see him only as a cop, any more than he had ever thought of her as nothing more than a suspect
Her smile died when he continued to gaze down at her, standing so close that their bodies were almost touching. All he would have to do was lean forward a couple of inches, and her mouth would be close enough for him to take that taste he’d been craving all evening.
He wasn’t holding her mere—she could easily take a step backward if she felt uncomfortable. But she didn’t immediately move away, which gave him courage.
“This wasn’t much of a dinner,” he said, jerking his chin toward the restaurant. He could see Billy Ray through the window, still leaning on his broom and watching television. “I’d like to take you someplace a little nicer next time. How about it?”
Emily’s left eyebrow rose a fraction of an inch. “Are you asking me for a date?”
“Yeah. My social skills have gotten a little rusty, but that’s what I’m trying to do. Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?”
She hesitated, then stepped back.
“Thank you, but I’m afraid I have very little free time right now,” she said, avoiding his eyes. “I have a lot of work to do, preparing for the move, so many details to finalize. I think I’d better concentrate on getting that stuff done for now. And as long as your investigation is ongoing, it’s probably best for us not to socialize. Isn’t that right?”
Okay, she’d made her feelings clear enough. She wasn’t interested. She’d tried to be nice about it, though, so Wade managed a smile that he hoped looked somewhat genuine. “Yes, I suppose so. And, having just been through a big move myself, I know how much time and work is involved.”
Emily’s smile held a touch of relief—and maybe just a little regret? Or was that only wishful thinking on Wade’s part?
“Yes, well, thank you for the coffee and pie, Chief, er, Wade. I’ll be seeing you around.”
“Sure. Good night, Emily. Drive carefully.”
She nodded and climbed into her car.
Wade felt himself scowling as he headed toward his Jeep after Emily drove away. Moping like a kid who’d been turned down for the prom. And he hoped he wasn’t foolish enough to fall for a woman who could very well prove to be another heartbreaker.
One thing was for sure. He was spending entirely too much time thinking about Emily McBride.
OLIVER WAS DANCING impatiently by the time Emily got home. She’d made a quick trip during her lunch hour to let him out, but he was ready to go again.
“I will be so glad when your owners get home,” she told him, holding the door so that he could waddle quickly outside. “You’re entirely too much responsibility. Their cruise should have ended today, so they’ll be home by Wednesday. Two more days and you’re out of here, buddy.”
Oliver didn’t seem offended at her impatience to be rid of him. He sniffed around the yard in the darkness, taking his time now despite his earlier haste. Emily sat on the edge of the porch and kept a close eye on him, using the bright moonlight for illumination. Night creatures serenaded her from the woods. It was a lovely and peaceful scene. And so lonely that Emily’s heart ached.
It wasn’t that she’d been particularly close to her father. Josiah McBride, Jr. had not allowed anyone to be close to him, including his only daughter. But since his death, Emily had been even more aware of how alone she was. And how little she’d actually done with her life.
Something rustled in the trees near the driveway and Oliver barked.
“Quiet, Oliver,” Emily said. “It’s probably just a deer. The woods are full of them.”
Oliver posed threateningly for a few more moments, then lost interest in the now quiet trees and went back to his search for the perfect spot to do his business.
“Sometime tonight would be nice,” Emily prodded him impatiently. “I have things to do, you know.”
Oliver snorted as if in disbelief that she had anything more important to attend to than him.
Emily glared at him. “Stupid dog. Despite whatever conclusions you might have drawn during the past few days, I do have a life.”
That statement reminded her of the rather lame excuses she’d made when Wade Davenport had asked her out
She hadn’t exactly been surprised that he’d wanted to spend some time with her. And it hadn’t been easy for her to decline. She liked him. Maybe she could have gone out with him once or twice, as long as they both knew that casual dating was all it would be. After all, she’d made it clear to him that she wouldn’t be around much longer, that she had places to go, things to do. Settling down in her lifelong hometown with a ready-made family was not a part of her plans—even if Wade was thinking along those lines, which he probably was not.
But something had made her turn him down. Maybe it had been instinct, or perhaps just overdeveloped caution, but her responses to Wade Davenport had warned her that it wouldn’t be easy to date him casually. He was a man who could tempt her to forget her lofty plans, and to start indulging in foolish daydreams that were liable to get her hurt.
She wondered if Wade still grieved for his wife. If he’d been deeply, passionately in love with his son’s mother. Did Wade simply want someone to substitute for his first wife and be a mother to Clay?
And then she wondered why she was wondering about things like that—hadn’t she just told herself that Wade’s future was none of her business, since she wouldn’t be around to see it?
She thought of Wade’s interest in her house. He would be the first potential buyer to look at it. Maybe he would buy it. She tried to imagine him living here with Clay. Something about that image felt right. She could so clearly picture little Clay running through the same woods she had played in as a child. She could almost see Wade puttering around in the yard, nailing new boards onto the porch, mowing the grass in the summertime.
That thought intrigued her. She entertained herself for a moment by imagining Wade pushing
a lawnmower on a hot summer afternoon. The bright Georgia sun would bring out the red highlights in his glossy brown hair. Maybe he would take off his shirt. She imagined muscles moving beneath his skin, sweat glistening on his back and biceps.
Expanding the fantasy, she pictured little Clay running across the freshly mowed grass, maybe chasing a puppy. And a woman standing on the porch, just about where she was now sitting. In fact, the woman in the fantasy looked a lot like herself...
Oliver barked again, bringing Emily sharply out of the daydream. Appalled at the direction her thoughts had taken, she scowled and shook her head, driving the lingering mental pictures away. What on earth was she doing? Maybe Wade Davenport would buy this house, and maybe he and little Clay would settle down here with someone—but it certainly wouldn’t be Emily.
She would be off having adventures. She would be meeting people who had never heard of the McBrides, who wouldn’t look at her and see Nadine’s daughter or Lucas’s sister. She would be finding out who she was and what she really wanted out of life. Chasing those dreams she’d written about in the letter she’d once buried in a makeshift time capsule.
For the first time in her life, Emily wanted to be truly selfish. To take care of no one but herself. And she told herself that she couldn’t wait to begin—even if the thought of leaving her home left an oddly hollow feeling inside her.
5
IT WAS EARLY Wednesday evening, two days after her meeting with Wade, when Emily’s phone rang with yet another request for her time.
“Come on, Emily, please. We really need your help,” Tressie Bearden pleaded. “Don’t turn us down.”
Emily swallowed a groan. “Tressie, I really don’t have time for this. Why in the world did you wait until the second week of October to start planning a Halloween haunted house? You should have begun weeks ago.”
“I know, I know. But our club heard that the Jaycees were going to do one, and we’ve just found out that their plans fell through, so no one’s putting one on this year. We thought we could throw one together real quick and maybe make a few dollars for next year’s projects, you know? But none of us on the fund-raising committee have ever done a haunted house before and we know you’ve been involved with them before with other groups, and we knew you’d help if we asked. Say you will, Emily. You know how much our club needs the money for our projects. Think of all the Christmas toys we can buy for the needy children.”
