Andi sighed as she yanked open her purse, snatched out her keys and jammed the key into the lock. She stomped over the threshold and slammed the door in his face.
* * *
MARK COUNTED TO ten and then rolled his head on his shoulders as he tried to put his reaction into perspective. He laughed at himself standing in front of her closed door like a teenager on his first date. Get it together, man. He punched the doorbell again.
When she yanked the door open, she wore a slightly bedraggled smile. Then she raised both eyebrows and waited.
“You look really...” He was changing his mind about what he meant to say. Soft. Gorgeous. Feminine. Right. Good. And he finished with “Pretty. You look really pretty, Andi.”
One corner of her mouth quirked up. “Thank you. You look nice, too, but I’d like to know what you were going to say instead of pretty.”
He rubbed his forehead before he put both arms up in a defensive stance. “I was going to say you looked really soft.”
“But you remembered I normally carry a gun?” Andi’s lips twitched.
Mark frowned as he pretended to consider his answer. “No, and I really should have thought of that much sooner.”
Andi laughed. “All right. I’m sorry, too. It’s just...hard to figure out how to be normal with you, not mad.”
He snorted. “I think I know what you mean. I’m usually a lot better with opening lines. Not gonna lie, the skirt threw me for a minute. I think it’s because I’ve only seen you in the uniform. And it’s clear that you do have legs, but it’s not obvious how amazing you look in a skirt. The surprise sent me right back to junior high.”
Andi opened her mouth and shut it. She looked as if she were stumped. Then Andi crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “My grandmother said it was a nice outfit.” She slapped her own forehead. “And of course, grandmothers are usually such fashionistas.”
He wiggled his hand under hers and managed to unravel her arms before he stepped inside. “Well, yours was right. It’s a good look for you.”
Andi tried to tug her fingers out of his grip as she said, “My choice was a prairie dress that would have been modest two centuries ago.”
That did not surprise him one bit. He’d half expected her to wear her uniform. Mark walked over to greet Mojo. “I’ll have to pass along my thanks to Gram the next time I see her.”
She held out a hand and said, “Wait, he hates men.” To prove her wrong, Mojo rubbed his head against Mark’s palm as he scratched behind the cat’s ears.
One corner of Mark’s mouth tilted up. “Oh, he’s a friendly fella, isn’t he?” When the words came out in the tone of voice one normally uses to speak to a newborn, Mark coughed and tried to look tougher. But it was too late. He was a cat person. And Mojo wasn’t a typical cat. He was large, had a perpetual frown and looked down on the world from his lofty perch. “Where’d you find this guy?”
“I pulled him out of a rain gutter when he was just a kitten,” Andi said.
As a true-blue, dyed-in-the-wool animal person and a lover of near-lost causes, Mark liked her answer. His already good opinion of Andi ticked up another notch.
“He still hasn’t forgiven me for moving him here, but he hasn’t killed me in my sleep, either. When he learns to open his own food, I’ll have to sleep with one eye open.”
“Oh, I don’t believe it.” Mark ran his hand down Mojo’s back and escaped the maneuver without a single extra stripe. “Nice to meet you, Mojo.”
Mojo responded with a dignified mew.
“What do we have here?” He picked up an obnoxiously colored skein of yarn that was dangerously overneedled. He held it toward Mojo, and Andi quickly snatched it from his hand.
“That is a sock. And if you drop one of those needles, you and I will both be sorry.” Andi carefully wound the yarn around the needles and sock in progress.
Mark shook his head. “No, I’ve seen socks. They don’t come in that color, and you buy them in the store.”
Andi sniffed. “I might have guessed you’d not understand the sock as art form.”
“Art form, is it?” He laughed. This was an amazing revelation. He loved it! She was a knitter, of all things. “In a million years, if I’d had to guess what your hobbies would be, I would never have put sock knitting on the list.”
Andi crossed her arms again. “And why is that? Because you don’t know a thing about sock knitting maybe?”
“Possibly. And also because knitting makes you seem...”
“Are you about to say soft again?” Her lips twitched as she fought a smile.
“Of course not.” He scratched Mojo behind the ears again and crossed to stand in front of the door. He held out his hand, but she held her ground.
“Not until you tell me what you were going to say.” She tilted her head and waited.
He shrugged. “Colorful. I was going to say that sock right there makes you seem more colorful.” They both looked at the garish self-striping yarn. Neon-green mixed with orange and rust in a pattern that suggested a weird science project gone horribly wrong.
She laughed. “Okay, I can see that.”
As she put the sock in progress—with all the dangerous double-pointed needles and crazy-colored yarn—in a basket by Mojo’s couch, he asked, “Will you knit me a pair of socks?”
Andi rolled her eyes. “Right. And you’d wear them if I did.”
He wasn’t really sure he would, but if she ever knit him a pair of socks, life as he knew it would’ve changed forever. He shrugged one shoulder. “You wear them.”
“Do you know the legend of the boyfriend sweater?” she asked. The skeptical look on her face said she was pretty sure he had no idea what she was talking about.
“Let’s see. The boyfriend sweater. That’s got to be the one about the...” Mark shook his head. “Uh, no. Of course I don’t.”
She tried to look serious as she said, “Oh, well, we better talk about socks and what they might mean later. After we know each other better.”
After we know each other better? That was promising. “Fine. I’ll hold you to that. We can pick up this conversation on our second date.”
“Well, if we don’t solve Jackie’s case tonight, you mean.” She tilted her head down. “With your help, I expect to have this taken care of quickly. Then we can both get back to our normal lives. Right?”
Finding the thief would mean no more “working” dates. He wasn’t sure how she did it, but all of a sudden work was the last thing on his mind.
“Why don’t we make it through tonight before we decide the rest of our lives?” He raised his hand and waited to see if she’d take it.
After a moment, she walked over to put her hand in his.
* * *
“MOJO, BE GOOD for real this time.”
Mark waited for Andi to relock the door and then he helped her into his truck. They were quiet on the short drive over to Fat John’s, and when they arrived, the noise of the crowded restaurant was shocking. Andi was happy to have the chance to catch her breath.
Mark looked around and leaned close to ask, “Want to try eating outside tonight? It’s awfully loud in here.”
They wound their way through the dining room. Mark waved at people who called out to him and shook hands as they went while Andi tried to blend in with the crowd. The sparsely populated deck overlooked the lake. Andi might have polka-dot skin by the time the mosquitos were through feasting on her, but she was glad it was less crowded out there. When Mark suggested Fat John’s special supreme, Andi nodded gratefully. Little Reanne Butler took their order and returned quickly with two sweet teas. Andi had gone to school with Reanne’s mother before she’d had to drop out because Reanne was on the way. And Andi suddenly felt very old.
To get the conversation started, she said
, “Nice night.”
“Yeah,” he replied. “I think it’s starting to cool off.”
And then they could hear crickets and the clink of silverware and snippets of conversation and nothing else.
Finally, he cleared his throat and leaned forward to put his elbows on the table. “And this is awkward.”
Andi smiled at him. “Finally, we’re normal. All first dates are awkward, right?” She glanced around to see if anyone had heard her say “date” and then relaxed. That was the whole plan: sell this as a regular, run-of-the-mill date. No one was paying the least bit of attention to them. That was unexpected and a bit of a letdown.
He nodded. “I guess you’re right.”
“So maybe we should start with the one item on the agenda—how you can help me solve this case. Now that I have a deadline and no suspects, I’m willing to solicit your help.”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “Well, okay, so let’s look at what you’ve got.” They were both silent. Finally, he shook his head. “You’ve got nothing.”
It was the truth. Andi hated it, but she couldn’t deny it. “I don’t think I’ve got one person who has a motive to harm Jackie. His complaints and lawsuits are annoying, but he runs a nice place and serves good food. Oscar’s family speaks highly of him, and Mona told me that Jackie thought Oscar was the best employee they’d ever had. You don’t seem to be the kind of person who would go to the trouble of breaking in to get back at Jackie. I figure you’d have other methods if you wanted revenge.”
He seemed to have no idea what Andi was talking about and she didn’t push it. Bringing up how easy it was to change a story by reporting the facts without context would just give her heartburn.
“Money, trophies... Did you find out if there was anything else in the safe that might have been the target?”
Andi shook her head. This wasn’t her information to spread, especially not to the newspaper editor. Mona’s child might be old news, but she still wouldn’t like to see it on the front page. Mark studied her face for a moment. He was about to speak when Andi said, “And there’s Wanda, but I can’t imagine anything would drive her to revenge.”
Andi shrugged and shivered at the light breeze across her arms. “Jackie’s given me a list which includes almost every person who’s ever been into the diner, but neither Mona nor my Gram thought he’d identified any real suspects. Interviewing them all could take forever, but I have this feeling it’s personal. Someone wanted to hit Jackie where it hurt. Why else would they take the trophies?”
Andi leaned back as Reanne placed a large pizza between them. It was piled high with a little bit of everything. She gave Mark two small plates with silverware rolled in paper napkins stacked on top.
“Can I get y’all anything else?” she asked with a very perky smile.
“No, we’re set here,” Mark answered.
When she left, Andi asked, “So, do you have any ideas?”
After he piled a slice on each plate and handed one to Andi, he leaned back in his chair. “Two. First, if you think the thief has a vendetta against Jackie, maybe you should start with the most recent dispute. Seems logical it would be someone who’s still mad.”
“I like it,” she said. “Got any idea who that could be?”
“I might know something about that.” Mark wore his usual little smirk right before he took a huge bite of pizza.
“Are you going to share?” Andi had to admire his technique. He’d turned the tables on her and he was pretty cute while he did it, even if she would never tell him that.
“What’s it worth? A second date maybe?”
Andi laughed quietly. “Maybe. Although some people might hesitate to blackmail the sheriff.”
Mark nodded. Andi watched him as he chewed. He made sure to take his time, leaving her poised on the edge of her seat. Literally.
“I seem to recall that Howard King over at the hardware store went a round or two with Jackie this summer. Maybe start there.”
Andi remembered seeing his name on the list but couldn’t remember how high Jackie had ranked him.
“And for my second trick, I’d like to suggest another motive.” Mark wiped his mouth before he asked, “What if Jackie wasn’t the target?”
Andi puzzled over his question. “You mean Jackie’s trophies and cash were stolen to hurt someone else? Like Mona or Oscar or...” She looked across the table to meet his stare. “Or me?”
He shrugged and took another bite before he answered. “It’s just a thought, but the election is coming. One of the biggest loudmouths in town was robbed—someone who’s sure to let everyone know about the sheriff’s failure to recover his stolen property.”
His theory made some sense. And that made her mad. If Ray Evans was behind the theft, he was really leaving nothing to chance.
Finally Andi shook her head. “I hate elections. I do. I never wanted to be sheriff. If Ray had hired me when I came to town, he’d be running unopposed. Of course, I get the feeling I’m just going through the motions with this campaign. Ray Evans was born to be a sheriff.”
“You ought to think about what you want to do if you lose. Can I suggest going on dates with a handsome gentleman and not caring what people will think?” Mark picked up a second slice of pizza. “So, what would you do if you weren’t sheriff?”
It was an impossible question. “I guess I’d have to move away from Tall Pines.”
He made the “continue” motion with his fork.
“I mean...” It was going to be hard to explain no matter what she said, so Andi decided to stick with the truth. “I like being in law enforcement. You know about my dad, my history here. Everyone does. My job gives me a chance to show I’m different. I can work hard and serve the town. But there are too many memories here. If it wasn’t for Gram, I might never have come back.” She looked around and absolutely no one was paying attention to them. Still.
Mark frowned. “So you’re happy here, even with the memories, because of your job?”
Andi shook her head. “Maybe I mean working in law enforcement made me happy. Being sheriff isn’t exactly what I thought it would be. I expected people to be impressed with my training so I could make changes, all the while watching over Gram. But...”
“It hasn’t happened that way. I’m guessing you realized things worked pretty well without your changes, people were less happy to see you than you thought, and there’s been very little saving the world and a whole lot of meetings.”
To steady herself, Andi took another drink of her beautiful sweet tea. He was pretty close to the truth and that made her nervous. Most days she didn’t understand why she felt the way she did.
He narrowed his eyes. “Let me guess. You were a good student and determined to get a scholarship. You always did your homework, aced tests, volunteered for projects and generally annoyed your classmates.”
Andi shrugged. “Maybe.”
His lips twitched. He knew very well how close he was. “Why law enforcement? You could have been anything, right?”
“Well, Doctor, you see...”
Mark nodded thoughtfully, pushed his imaginary glasses up his nose and pretended to lick an invisible pen. And she felt a little of the tension ease out of her shoulders. “I think I wanted something that made me feel in control. My dad left when I was nine. My mom got sick and died of breast cancer when I was in high school, and everything was so chaotic. Rules. Laws. Procedures. They made sense, and I knew what was expected. I could measure myself against them and excel, but I didn’t want to be a police officer. I wanted to be a federal agent. I wanted to make a big difference.”
He tilted his head to one side. “Seems a stretch for a girl from Tall Pines.”
Andi laughed. “Yeah, it really does. You ought to try flipping it, being ex-FBI back here. Throw one Chinese word i
nto conversation or correct someone about Afghanistan’s geography and people look at you like you’ve just sprouted wings or said you voted Democrat.” She wadded up the corner of her napkin. “Do you remember that show, the one with the female FBI agent who solved crimes with the profiler? Her name was Agent Shenandoah Steele and she wore black boots and a gun holster and solved impossible crimes. She gave me the idea.”
Mark choked a little on his pizza. When he finally got his voice back, he said, “Warn me before you hit me with truths like that, Andi.”
“Not exactly what you expected?” She laughed. “I liked her. Agent Steele worked hard and was proven right every single time. People respected her work. She was the best at what she did. That’s all I wanted. The fact that perfection is impossible to achieve in real life has been a disappointment, let me tell you.”
He shook his head and tangled his fingers with hers while time stopped. The sounds of the restaurant disappeared, and there was nothing except him, the warmth in his eyes and the small smile on his lips. She couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t want anything to shatter the moment.
When Reanne dropped a stack of napkins on the table, they both straightened and Andi took a deep breath. She slowly slid her hand back across the table and regretted it instantly.
She licked her lips. “When I told Gram I was going to be an FBI agent someday, she didn’t laugh. It made perfect sense to her. We went to the library and researched how you become one. I picked a college and two majors to get the education required. And I did it.”
“Could you go back?” Mark asked. “I mean, things have settled down here. Would they hire you?”
“Yeah, but that scare... When I thought I might lose Gram, it was like I woke up. I’ve only made it home once a year since I graduated college. We talked on the phone almost every day and she was fine. It never occurred to me that something could happen to her.” She shook her head. “I can’t be that far away again. She needs me too much.”
Mark sighed. “You know something bad could happen to Gram even with you living around the corner, right? Even as the sheriff of this town, something bad—something you can’t control—could happen to her.”
A Minute on the Lips Page 12
