If anyone knew where Barbie was, how long she’d be gone, and when she’d return, it would more than likely be Lori. But would she spread it around? Not a Mackay sister, they were well known for being tight-lipped, which was probably why people told them things.
Adam really wanted to know what had happened to Barbie. Guilt complex? Family emergency? One minute she was at the house, the next thing she was gone.
Tracking the progress of a passing Ute, he raised his hand to return the wave sent by Tommy, the driver, and also the owner of the only café in town. In the passenger seat of his car sat Harriet, his much older girlfriend by fifteen years. Now that had caused a stir in town just a few weeks back.
Kind of like when Barbie showed up and they’d struck sparks off each other. The local gossip brigade had been all agog.
The car disappeared down the road, leaving him with his thoughts
Remembering their last conversation, the sadness in her eyes, the way they’d parted, he frowned slightly. He’d had every right to be angry still, yet somehow after he’d driven home and had time to think, to sort through his own emotions and her surprising confession and reaction, he’d realised a few things.
One of them was that his fury wasn’t as hot as he’d thought; instead, it was somehow now just a warm ember. Cooled by time, experience, being older and wiser, and probably…well, yes, he had to admit it. Cooled by Barbie herself. Her blunt honesty and heartfelt apology. There was no denying the sincerity in her eyes and words.
And that included her assurance that she’d stay out of his way until she left town.
His eyes tracked another car passing the service station, obviously someone passing through as he didn’t recognise the car, and he knew just about every car and Ute in the area.
Rubbing his hand across his jaw, he frowned inwardly. After their confrontation the previous night, he’d gotten into his car the next morning to drive to work and spotted the yellow slip of paper with his phone numbers on it lying on the dashboard. A woman alone in a big house outside town, who’d experienced disturbances but stubbornly refused to call the police for what she’d convinced herself was just her imagination, had deliberately left it behind. Setting his jaw, he’d driven straight out to her house, intent on giving her the paper and ordering her to call him and not be so bloody stubborn, only to find everything locked up and the place deserted.
Concerned, he’d scoped the place out but there was no sign of a disturbance. It bothered him, though, because as he tested the doorhandle he remembered that she’d walked into her house the previous night without having to unlock the door.
Barbie was a city girl, she’d have locked the front door before going to Ali’s.
Without hesitation, he’d phoned Henry from the local painting contractors and was informed that she’d called him the night before to say she was leaving town and would contact them when she returned. Peeron Carpenting told him identical.
So Barbie had skipped town.
Oddly, he found himself keeping an eye out for her when he drove around. Was it sick to actually miss her, even a little bit? Miss her flashing eyes, her little stuck-up nose when she saw him, that full figure swaying down the street in her bright ballet flats or sandals, the pretty, gauzy dresses and blonde hair that was either jauntily confined in a ponytail, or a messy, very sexy bun.
Sexy? Whoa, settle down. What the hell…?
Dragging his thoughts form that disturbing notion, he glanced again at Lori.
She didn’t look up from the fuel gun.
Considering the few odd occurrences that Barbie had seen at the house, he’d gone out there a few times to check that nothing odd was happening.
It had been a week so far and she hadn’t turned up.
Even though he’d already asked, he caved in. “Are you sure you don’t know when Barbie will be back?”
Without looking up, Lori shook her head.
“Where she was going?”
Lori shook her head again.
“Reckon she was going back to the city?”
“Maybe.”
Jesus, it was like pulling teeth, just like when he’d first asked her the very morning he’d driven out to the Declan house and found it deserted. “I’m just concerned about the house.”
“Mmmm?”
“With the noises and things that she saw and heard.”
“Mmm.”
“You sure she never said anything?”
Another shake of the head.
Tipping his head back, Adam studied the veranda roof high above them. Unless Barbie’s life was in danger or he pulled police rank, Lori wasn’t saying a word. Ali was exactly the same. He’d always liked that about them, but right now it was damned frustrating. He really couldn’t tell if they were keeping their mouths shut or really didn’t know.
The gun clicked off several times as Lori ensured the fuel tank was as full as it could get. Straightening, she hooked the gun back on the fuel bowser. “Okay.”
He slid her a glance.
She smiled serenely at him as she screwed the fuel cap on and snapped the little door shut before walking towards the service station office.
With a sigh, he straightened and followed. He’d even tried pumping Matt for information, but his friend denied knowing anything. What Adam couldn’t deny was seeing a gleam in Matt’s eyes. That didn’t bode well, it meant his friend was thinking something that Adam probably wouldn’t like. It alarmed him even more when Matt said nothing further.
He figured out why when Ghost met him in the supermarket and there was the same gleam in his eyes when he asked if Adam had found his missing felon.
Bastard.
The Mackay sisters might not gossip, but their fiancées sure liked to beat their gums.
Handing over the fuel card, he waited while Lori entered it in the system.
Shaun sat in his usual spot in the armchair in the corner behind the counter, an opened newspaper hiding most of him from sight except for the top part of his bald head.
“Shaun,” Adam said.
“Adam,” Shaun replied, without lowering the paper.
“Nice day outside.”
“Sunny.”
Man of few words. Adam couldn’t help but grin at Lori, who smiled and handed his fuel card back to him.
Walking through the door that separated the service station office from the little café, he greeted Tracey, the waitress.
“Afternoon, Officer Hottie,” she greeted him.
“If Brandon gave you another speeding fine, I’m not getting you out of it,” he responded dryly.
“Why would you think that?”
“It’s the only time you call me ‘Officer Hottie’.”
“That is so untrue.” She dimpled at him.
“Being cute won’t get you anywhere.”
“Damn. I guess I’ll have to pay the speeding fine, huh?”
“Absolutely.”
She sighed. “It was worth a shot.”
He raised one eyebrow.
“What’ll it be, Officer Unhelpful?”
His gaze ran over the menu. “One beef salad roll, one chicken salad roll, two containers of hot chips, a banana milkshake, and an iced coffee, please.”
“Carton or fresh iced coffee?”
“Really? You need to ask that after all this time?”
She rolled her eyes. “Cream or ice cream?”
“Ice cream in, cream on top.”
“One artery clogger coming up.”
It wasn’t long before his and Brandon’s lunch was ready. Tracey packed it all into a shallow box and handed it to him. After paying, he picked up the box and walked to the door.
He was just reaching for the handle when Lori walked through from the service station office. “Hey, Adam, guess who just turned up? It’s - ”
He had no idea what she was going to say next, because the front door swung wide open at that exact second and knocked the box up out of his hand. The whole lot tipped over him befo
re he could step back, banana milkshake, iced coffee, and hot chips. The salad rolls slipped away in their plastic wrap to bounce on the floor.
“Oh shit!” A familiar voice exclaimed.
Arms outstretched, the mess dripping down the front of his uniform, Adam looked disbelievingly into Barbie’s startled face. Her mouth was open in astonished horror, her eyes wide.
“Guess you know now.” Lori turned on her heel and walked out the door as the bell form the fuel bowsers tingled to announce another customer.
“I’m so sorry.” Hurrying to a nearby table, Barbie grabbed a handful of paper napkins and tried to brush his shirt down.
She plucked a chip out that had gotten stuck around a button, pulled another that lay abandoned on his utility belt, and chewed her bottom lip as she slowly stopped brushing the soaking mess of coffee and milkshake form his shirt. The cold, sticky mess had just spread further.
The whole time Adam just stood, noting her genuine concern as she tried to tidy him up, feeling the tips of her fingers press against his shirt as she plucked away a chip and attempted to clean the mess.
His gaze dropped to her lips, those soft, pink, lush lips, the bottom one caught between her small white teeth as she surveyed the mess.
It said a lot for his state of mind that he actually felt her touch, had the weird urge to want to feel the tips of her fingers against his bare skin, wanted - what the hell was wrong with him? Had he suffered a stroke or something without realising it?
Holding the soggy napkins, Barbie stepped back and cleared her throat. “Um…I don’t think that’s helped.”
Disturbed by his own wayward thoughts, Adam frowned irritably. “You’re back.”
“I just got here.” She shifted to the side as Tracey approached with a mop and bucket. “I’m so sorry, Tracey. I’ll help clean up.”
“It was an accident,” Tracey replied. “Don’t stress.”
Dropping to her knees, Barbie started to gather up the spilled food and cups, placing them in the box. “I should have looked where I was going.”
“Adam’s kind of hard to miss.” Tracey nudged his leg. “Move your big boots.”
Realising that he’d just been standing there dripping on the floor while watching Barbie like a hawk watching a bunny, Adam shook his head to clear his addled senses and started to kneel down to help.
Tracey stopped him with one hand raised. “You go and change, and by the time you get back I’ll have another order ready.”
Barbie didn’t look up, her face averted as she busied herself gathering up the spilled items.
Straightening, he backed away, though his gaze stayed on Barbie. When she didn’t acknowledge him, his lips tightened. Fine. Regardless of her words she was obviously still carrying a chip on that shoulder. Fine.
“Thanks, Tracey. I’ll be back soon.” He nodded curtly to her and walked out of the café.
Scowling, he got into the patrol car, started it and drove home, his hands gripping the steering wheel, annoyance flowing through him. Looked like Barbie could spout nice words, but her inner feelings obviously were a little different.
Once home, he tossed his shirt and pants into a bucket to soak, had a quick shower to rid him of the sticky mess, and dressed in a fresh uniform.
The shower hadn’t done anything to cool his annoyance, not to admit his disappointment in the realisation that Barbie would rather ignore him than look him in the eye. Getting back into the patrol car, he returned to the café. Entering, he strode across to the counter for his order, pulling his wallet from his pocket as he did so.
“No need to pay.” Tracey slid the box of freshly made food across the counter.
Adam shook his head. “You know I don’t accept-”
“Don’t get your panties in a knot. This was paid for by Barbie.”
That had his head snapping up. “What?”
“Barbie. She paid for the order.” Tracey smiled at him. “Nice of her, hey? She felt so bad, insisted on paying.”
“Yes,” Lori said behind him. “Bit hard to apologise properly when the local cop is scowling at you.”
Adam glanced over his shoulder. “I didn’t-”
“You did.” Tracey nodded in agreement. “Kind of hard to miss. Big cop, big mess, big scowl.”
This was the problem of working in a town full of people you’d grown up with - no respect. “I was just a little surprised.”
“And she wasn’t?” Tracey asked sarcastically.
Annoyed all over again, now at himself and feeling just a little foolish to boot, Adam withdrew his bank card. “She’s not paying. Now-”
“I think I hear the phone ringing.” Tracey walked into the back of the café.
Fine, he’d get Lori to take the card. Proffering it, he turned to her, only to be taken by surprise when she simply shook her head slowly, rolled her eyes, turned and walked back into the service station office.
Huffing out a breath, Adam put the card back in his wallet and shoved the wallet back into his pocket. Picking up the box, he left the café. Damn stubborn females. Typical behaviour, backing each other up whether right or wrong.
Getting into the patrol car, he placed the box on the passenger seat and looked at it. Why had Barbie paid for the meal? Just because she felt guilty? Well, now he felt bad. It had been an accident, pure and simple, she didn’t have to pay for it. He’d just have to front her up, give her the money back, and tell her not to be so stupid.
Yeah, like that wasn’t going to offend her.
Dropping his head back against the headrest, Adam pinched the bridge of his nose. Barbie Declan was back in town for less than an hour and already she was doing his head in. Talk about a thorn in his side.
Maybe he should think this through before he went off half-cocked, something he never did normally. Or ever, come to think of it. Until Barbie had come to town, pricked him, and then all sorts of weird things started knocking around inside his head.
Christ, was this how Matt had felt when he’d been chasing Lori?
Abruptly, Adam snapped upright in the seat. What the hell? He certainly wasn’t chasing Barbie, far from it. She’d destroyed his relationship in the past, he sure as hell wasn’t looking to start one with her now.
Barbie Declan, of all women.
Shit no.
Starting the car, he pulled out onto the highway and headed back to the police station, his forehead creased in a scowl. He’d eat, recharge his batteries, get his head screwed on straight, clear his mind, then go and see her, tell her it was an accident.
Be all polite and shit.
His gaze slid down to the yellow slip of paper holding her phone number that sat on the console.
Yeah, and police business. Make her take the damned slip of paper, make sure she was okay out at the old house. He had a duty to protect the townsfolk, and right now she was a part of that.
Ah ha! That had to be it. That had to be the answer. The tension in his brow eased a little. For however short a period, she was a part of his town, under his protection, and he’d been confusing everything, thinking his concern for her was alarmingly out of place.
Scoffing to himself, he pulled up behind the police station and took the box from the passenger seat, locking the car securely before heading inside. Yeah, that was the answer.
He was over-analysing everything. Of course he’d be concerned for a woman living alone with strange happenings at her home. It was only natural. It was just that it was happening to Barbie Declan with whom he shared history.
You’re confusing everything, you idiot. Get a grip, be the cop.
More settled, he nodded to himself, his scowl disappearing as he entered the back offices. Now he was focussed, centred. Sorted.
Brandon walked in from the front. “Man, I am starving. You went to get the food ages ago. What happened?”
“Slight diversion. Stop bellyaching and eat.”
Brandon popped a chip into his mouth while unwrapping the chicken salad roll. “T
he diversion happen to be caused by a certain busty blonde?’
Not surprised that word had travelled, especially when it concerned him and Barbie, Adam sucked up some cold coffee, savouring the icy creaminess.
“Heard she had you wearing our lunch.” Brandon smirked. “And you didn’t arrest her for assaulting a police officer.”
Taking a big bite of beef salad roll, Adam leaned back in the chair and propped his booted heels on the edge of the desk.
“You could’ve handcuffed her, had her at your mercy,” Brandon continued. “I’d have thought you’d like that.”
Adam grinned a little, a picture forming in his head. Yeah, he would like that, Barbie with her hands cuffed behind her back, looking up at him, totally at his mercy as he bent her over - Goddamn!
The ice coffee jerked in his hand, splashing over to spill down the front of his shirt. Cursing, he straightened, dropping the beef salad roll to the desk as he grabbed some tissues from the box and dabbed at his shirt.
“Clumsy,” Brandon remarked.
There was something in his voice that had the warning bells clanging inside Adam’s head, and he looked across to see Brandon’s eyes gleaming.
It was the same kind of gleam that Ghost and Matt had had in their eyes.
Bastards.
Irritated at both his unexpected - and totally hot - thoughts, not to mention Brandon’s smirk, Adam shoved upright, growling, “Laugh it up, hyena.”
“Maybe you better go home and change again.” Brandon leered and slurped his milkshake. “Make an arrest on your way back.”
Leaving his lunch on the desk, Adam headed to the bathroom where he dabbed at the new mess on his clean shirt. A good sponge down only produced a huge, wet patch, but luckily he had a spare shirt in the locker. Pulling it on, he thought that he’d never been out of his clothes so often during a work day as when Barbie had returned.
And that just so didn’t sound right.
After lunch, he and Brandon went to Gus’s to pick up the other patrol car which had had new tyres and a realignment done, and was now ready for pick up.
Adam's Thorn Page 13
