by LuAnn McLane
Bo pursed his lips. “No can do. Gotta send a message to Mr. Noah Falcon and his bad-news baseball players.” He puffed out his chest. “Gotta do what I was elected to do,” he boasted and shoved Cam toward the front door.
“Stop! You can’t do this to him!” Mia protested and got a glare in return.
“Myra, get this here girl under control or she’s coming in with me too.”
“Mia, it’s okay,” Cam assured her, but there was a sad look in his eyes that tugged at her heart. And this was her fault!
“Keep going,” the sheriff said and gave Cam a hard shove out the door.
Mia whirled around and raised her hands into the air. “Myra, what are we going to do? Cam was telling the truth! You believe me, don’t you?”
“We aren’t going to do anything. You got yourself into this mess, missy. You’ll just have to go down there and bail his cute ass out of jail.”
“But … but I’m broke!”
Myra sighed. “Look, I’ll give you an advance against … well, hell, I’m not paying you wages.”
“Loan me the money and I’ll pay you back.”
“Oh, like I haven’t heard that one before.” Myra closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath. “Okay …”
“Thank you!” Mia did a little jig. “Oh, and I guess this means you haven’t fired me?”
“Not yet. But you’re on thin ice.”
“You won’t regret it.”
“Heard that one a million times too … ,” she said but then grinned. “Mia Money, do you always cause this much commotion?”
“Pretty much … but it’s never on purpose!”
“Well, at least you’re honest.” Myra flipped her braid over her shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you some cash to bail your ballplayer out of jail. I don’t blame ya. He sure has a nice butt.”
“He’s not my baseball player.” Although she had noticed Cam’s very nice butt.
Myra paused in her tracks and gave Mia a grin. “Yeah, well, the summer has just begun and I have a feeling the two of you are gonna heat things up around here.”
“Myra, I’m waiting for my car to get fixed. I’m not settling down in Cricket Creek.”
“Oh yeah, I’ve heard that one too. Now, believe me, I think that you should bloom where you are planted, but this place grows on a person.”
“I can see why.” Mia laughed as she followed Myra down the narrow hallway. She hadn’t felt this alive and energized in a long time. Perhaps she was … blooming.
7
Something to Talk About
NICOLINA DIAMANTE SCOOTED THE WIDE STRAP OF HER laptop satchel higher onto her shoulder and watched a big, beefy sheriff exit Wine and Diner while shoving a handsome young handcuffed man toward a squad car parked at the corner. Handcuffs on a patron from Wine and Diner? A cold shot of fear for her daughter slid down Nicolina’s spine, and she hurried toward the entrance, anxious to know what had transpired. But when she reached for the handle of the front door, curiosity had her glancing over her shoulder. She frowned when the sheriff roughly pushed the young man toward the backseat hard enough for him to clip his shoulder on the side of the car.
When the kid grunted and fell onto the seat, the sheriff chuckled. “Sure hope you didn’t bruise your throwing arm, hotshot,” he sneered before slamming the door.
Nicolina had no idea what the kid had done, but she despised mistreatment of anybody and she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. When she narrowed her gaze at the sheriff, he must have felt the heat of her disapproval boring into his back because he turned around to catch her glaring at him. The smarmy grin he gave her made her stomach churn, but she’d lived in the city long enough to know not to show fear or intimidation. With a lift of her chin, she gave him a level look in return. The man had the nerve to tip his cap at her before giving her a rude once-over that made Nicolina fume, but before she shouted something she would regret—and she had been known to do so—Nicolina turned and yanked the door open just as a lovely young woman hurried out the door.
Nicolina frowned. Although she was still fairly new to Cricket Creek, she thought she knew all of the waitresses at Wine and Diner, but the blonde didn’t ring a bell. Then Nicolina paused and nibbled on her bottom lip. It was just a passing glance, but something about the girl felt familiar and tugged at her memory. When nothing surfaced, she sighed. It seemed that the older she got, the less she remembered. “Damned menopause,” she mumbled as she walked across the restaurant.
Because there was always a lull in the late afternoon, Nicolina usually slipped into a booth for an extended coffee break with Bella before the evening rush, but today she hurried up to the counter and waved Myra over. “Hey, what’s going on? I just saw a young man being hauled away by the police, and none too gently, I might add. Was somebody arrested in here today?”
Myra rolled her eyes and nodded slowly. “Yep, sure was.”
“Oh my God, were you robbed? Where’s Bella?” Nicolina’s legs suddenly felt like noodles and she had to sit down on a stool. She put her laptop on the counter and shot Myra a look of concern.
“Don’t worry.” Myra reached over and patted Nicolina’s hand. “Bella was in the back playing with baby Ben while Jessica made dinner rolls, but I think your daughter’s talking on the phone with Logan right about now. Do you want me to round her up?”
Relief washed over her. “No, I was just concerned that something bad had gone down,” Nicolina confessed while Myra poured her a steaming cup of her usual blend of half decaf and half regular coffee. After adding a splash of cream, she looked at Myra questioningly. “So what did happen?” she asked, but before Myra could answer, Bella came bounding into the dining room.
“Oh my God!” Bella shouted. “I missed it! Did Cam really get arrested? Did Mia actually jump on some dude’s back? Hi, Mom! Oh damn, I was talking to Logan and missed all the good stuff.”
“None of it was good,” Myra pointed out.
“Are you kidding? This is the most excitement we’ve had here since … well, since Mia arrived and caused the food riot. People are still talking!”
“Food riot?” Nicolina asked. “I’m the one who missed everything. Why is that?”
“Because you come in here during the dead hours, Mom. You have to get out of that store of yours more often. I know you’re busy getting the inventory ready to open, but still, how much jewelry can you design?”
“Lots!” Nicolina felt her cheeks grow warm. What her daughter didn’t know was that it was visits from Mitch Monroe that were taking up most of her spare time. Not that she minded. The man was an amazing lover. “Now tell me about this food riot,” she said, trying to change the subject.
“There wasn’t a food riot. Merely a little … accident.” Myra poured two more cups of coffee and leaned her hip against the counter.
Nicolina took a sip of her coffee. “Caused by that blonde … Wait, what did you say her name was?”
“Mia,” Myra answered.
“No … really?” Oh boy, was she right? Mia was Mitch’s daughter’s name. But what would Mia be doing in Cricket Creek waiting tables? “What is her last name?”
“Money,” Bella replied. “Why, do you know her, Mom?”
Nicolina almost said, Maybe, but then hesitated. “I’m not sure.” She had to talk to Mitch first. He wanted his silent partnership in the Cricket Creek baseball team to remain private for business reasons, and although Nicolina had started seeing Mitch while still living in Chicago, they had decided to keep their budding relationship to themselves. Well, she had decided to keep it on the down low, even though Nicolina rarely kept anything from Bella and felt a little guilty doing so now.
“Mom?” Bella gave her a questioning frown. “Are you okay?”
“Oh …” Nicolina tapped her fingernail against the thick white mug and wondered what to do. “Yes, I just have a lot on my mind, and then when I saw that sheriff shoving that boy into the squad car, my heart just about stopped.”
“Okay,” Bella replied but gave her a look that said that she wasn’t quite buying it. “That sheriff is such a jerk. He wants special treatment whenever he comes in here, and it totally ticks me off,” she said and then looked at Myra. “I’m sorry, but I treat everyone the same way. That’s what I did at Chicago Blue, and I do the very same thing here at Wine and Diner. I don’t care if you are a cop or a movie star.”
“And you should be that way,” Myra assured her with a nod that made her hoop earrings swing back and forth. “Bo has had a stick up his ass where Noah Falcon is concerned since high school. Noah was a star and Bo rode the bench. He talks trash about Noah as much as he possibly can. Put up a big fight when the WELCOME TO CRICKET CREEK, HOME OF NOAH FALCON sign was erected. And when Ty McKenna moved here from Chicago, Bo became even worse. He hates being upstaged by anyone, especially athletes.” She shook her head. “He loves to pull over Cricket Creek baseball players. Has it in for the whole doggone team.”
“Well, that’s just plain silly,” Nicolina commented. “The baseball complex brought this town back to life, didn’t it?”
“Damn sure did.” Myra slapped her thigh. “And the strip mall where your shop is going in down by the river is going to bring us even more business. The high-rise condos are finally filling up. Yes, times are changing—and for the better.” Myra smiled. “For the first time in a long while we have people moving here rather than moving away.” She gave Nicolina a wink. “We especially love Chicago transplants.”
“Mom, speaking of Chicago, have you seen Mitch lately?”
“Oh, here and there,” Nicolina answered vaguely.
“So he’s come to see you here in Cricket Creek? How come I didn’t know?”
Nicolina raised one shoulder. “He’s come here for business reasons, Bella. You know he is a partner in the strip mall and has been giving me business advice.”
“Are you talking about that silver fox who has been in here a few times?” Myra fanned her face. “Woo-wee … that man is fine. Isn’t he some sorta big shot in Chicago?”
“I … yes,” Nicolina answered and then stared down at her mug.
“Oh …” Myra’s eyes widened. “You two got something going on?”
“He’s giving me business advice on running Designs by Diamante.” It was true. Mitch had been invaluable to her and had patiently answered hundreds of questions both big and small. But Nicolina had also kept her heart guarded since moving to Cricket Creek to open her jewelry store. In truth, she had thought that her relationship with Mitch would end when she relocated, but she had forgotten that his ability to fly into town on his company jet made the distance between them shrink.
“Where have you two been hiding?” Myra prompted.
“Yeah, Mom.” Bella narrowed her eyes and waited.
“Bella, you’ve been busy as hostess here and traveling all over creation to see Logan play ball. Not to mention all of the online publicity you’ve been doing for the shop.” She sliced a hand through the air. “And we haven’t been hiding. We’ve been working. Mitch has other interests here besides me,” she added but then clamped her mouth shut once more before she revealed too much.
“Right … ,” Myra said with a slow nod.
“I’m just way too busy for a relationship anyway.”
“If you say so,” Bella replied but gave her mother a level look that indicated she wasn’t really buying it.
“That being said, Mitch has been very helpful. As a friend, that is,” Nicolina insisted. “You know, Bella, a business acquaintance.”
Bella rolled her eyes. “You do realize that you’re protesting way too much. How often has he been here?”
Nicolina shrugged. “It varies.” At first it had been once a week, but the visits had become more frequent … and more passionate. She hoped her voice had an airy tone, but when an image of Mitch popped into her head, she felt heat in her cheeks once more.
“Meaning more than you’re willing to admit?” Bella asked.
Bella had been furious when Nicolina had divulged last summer that she felt out of her league with Mitch Monroe. It was still true, but she had underlying reasons that neither Mitch nor Bella understood. Mitch had made his growing feelings for her apparent, but Nicolina wasn’t ready to let down her guard. Nicolina knew why she wasn’t ready and averted her gaze from her daughter’s sudden scrutiny. Mitchell Monroe was charming, funny, and kind and turned her to putty in his hands with a simple kiss … but, well, call her crazy, but she dearly wished he was just a regular guy instead of a multimillionaire.
She cleared her throat and decided to turn the subject back to the arrest. “So tell me what happened here earlier. Who was that boy and why was he arrested? And was Mia involved?”
“Nicolina, is there something I should know about Mia? You mentioned that you thought you might know her. Do you?” Myra asked.
“Oh …” Nicolina wasn’t sure if it was really Mia Monroe, and so she merely shrugged. “I was probably mistaken. I’m guessing she isn’t from around here.”
“Her car broke down and she was in a tight spot, so I hired her. But I don’t want any trouble here and I damned well let her know that,” Myra persisted.
“Her car broke down? What kind was it?”
Myra lifted one shoulder and glanced at Bella for help.
“Old … a Toyota, I think.”
“Oh.” Nicolina took a thoughtful sip of coffee. Mitch’s daughter driving an old beat-up car? Not on your life. He talked about Mia as much as she talked about Bella, and it was apparent that he was protective of his daughter. Mitch wouldn’t allow her to drive an unreliable vehicle. And Nicolina knew that Mia still lived at home. The first person she would have called if she’d gotten in some sort of trouble would have been her father. “Oh … I just caught a fleeting glance of her. I must have been mistaken.” She hoped that she was right. If Mia Monroe was waitressing at Wine and Diner and driving a beat-up car, something wasn’t right. As soon as she left the diner she was going to call Mitch and find out if there was anything strange going on with his daughter. “So tell me what went down with the arrest,” Nicolina said. If the girl really was Mia Monroe, she wanted to have as much information for Mitch as possible.
“Yeah,” Bella said and sat down on a stool next to Nicolina. “I want the details too! Man alive, Mia sure has stirred things up here the past couple of days. I wonder what she will do next?”
8
Spring Fever
NOT HAVING A CAR REALLY SUCKED, MIA THOUGHT AS SHE hoofed it down Main Street to the police station. Myra had given her directions, and unlike in Chicago, just about everything in Cricket Creek was within reasonable walking distance. Still, she was in a hurry and a car would have been nice right about now … and of course flagging a passing cab wasn’t an option. Adding to her discomfort, the sky had clouded over, leaving a definite nip in the late spring air. By the time she arrived at her destination, Mia was shivering and her tired feet ached.
“Okay,” Mia whispered as she paused for a second to catch her breath and get her bearings, “now where do I go?” The courthouse was a stately old brick building with a white domed roof in the center, reminding Mia of the courthouse in the movie To Kill a Mockingbird. Mia was a big fan of classic movies and she suddenly felt as if she were stepping into the past. A giant oak tree sprouting tender green leaves graced the side yard, and a row of deep red petunias lined the sidewalk. Two large planters chock-full of flowers perched on both sides of the front porch, and a rustic grapevine wreath decorated the front door. Even in her rush, the homespun beauty wasn’t lost on Mia.
Myra had instructed Mia to go in the double doors in a building to the left, where the police station was located. As Mia had imagined, it was small but it was a police station nonetheless, and entering made her feel a bit nervous. Still, she took a deep breath and pushed the heavy door open. After glancing around, she walked up to the desk with an air of what she hoped was confidence, even though she didn’t have
a clue as to how to spring someone from the slammer.
An older woman with a perky salt-and-pepper pageboy cut smiled at Mia, putting her a little bit at ease. “May I help you?”
Mia glanced at the nameplate on the desk. “Nancy, I’m here to bail someone out,” Mia explained.
“Name?”
“Mia Mon … Money.”
“Mia Money?” she asked uncertainly.
“Yes,” Mia replied firmly. “Mia Money … no relation to Eddie.”
Nancy frowned. “When was Mia Money arrested?”
“What? Oh … no, that’s my name.”
Nancy chuckled. “Well, Miss Money no relation to Eddie, who are you here to bail out?”
“Oh, um … Cam … Cameron …” What was his last name?
“Cam Cameron?”
“Cameron is his first name.”
“Last name?” she asked with a hint of amusement.
Mia felt heat creep into her cheeks but then used her father’s method of slyly sliding right past something he didn’t know. “He was brought in just a little while ago.”
Nancy slipped on her reading glasses and clicked away on her keyboard. “Cameron Patrick?”
“Yes.” Mia took a chance and nodded. After all, how many Camerons could have been arrested in Cricket Creek?
Nancy slipped her glasses off and let them dangle from a gold chain around her neck. “Bail has just been posted at two hundred and fifty dollars. We only take cash or a money order.”
“Not a problem.” Mia slipped her purse from her shoulder and reached inside for the cash that Myra had loaned to her.
After taking the money, Nancy said, “It will take a little while for the paperwork. As soon as I finish I’ll call back to the holding cell to release Cameron.”
“Thanks,” Mia said and tried not to wince at the term holding cell. She had a mental vision of someplace damp, dirty, and full of spiders. She barely suppressed a shudder. Cam was in jail because he’d come to her defense, and it made her feel terribly guilty. “Would you mind letting him out soon? We have, uh, dinner reservations.”
