by Emma Ames
Saint joined them again. “Ridge, we’re about to announce last call, but you’re welcome to stay if you like. Bubba usually stops by after his shift. I’m always here for a while. Tizzy and I generally share a dance.” He glanced at her and grinned. “Tonight, why don’t you let Cooper fill in for me. I need to go over some receipts.”
“Oh, no, that’s okay, Daddy.”
“No, no sweetie. I’m sure he won’t mind.” He shifted to Ridge. “Will you?”
“Not a bit. Unless she doesn’t want me to—do you?”
“Oh, I—I want you. Uh, I—uh—sure.”
Just after midnight, like clockwork, Bubba and Rayann arrived, and Ridge called out to him. “Hey, man, I understand congratulations are in order. That was fast.”
“Thanks. I know it seems quick to you, but I’ve been in love with Rayann forever, so I didn’t see any need to wait.”
Rayann wiggled her fingers, the engagement ring catching the light.
“That’s beautiful. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
Bubba handed his weapon to Tizzy, and she put it under the counter.
As Rayann and Bubba walked away, Ridge offered his hand to Tizzy, and they followed their friends to the dance floor. When the music started, he took possession of her. He smelled like coconut, and Dillard’s shoe department, an intoxicating combination. It had been years since a man held her close and then there was the whole coconut-shoe thing he had going. She had a little fantasy involving Pina Coladas and four-inch red stilettos. Dizzy, she laid her head on his chest, and he pulled her tighter.
She needed to stop thinking about how Ridge smelled—and how his hand felt around her waist.
“Tizzy? Tizzy? Margie Lou! The song is over.”
She snapped to attention. “What did you say?”
He chuckled. “You heard me.”
“Did you call me Margie Lou?”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “Yeah. What are you going to do about it?”
She laid her head against him and sighed. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Okay, listen up, everybody, and I do mean everybody. If any of you know anything about Marlene’s death, this would be the time to let me know.” Tizzy paused and gazed out over the graveyard. No flashes, no thoughts, no voices came from anyone.
She wrung her hands. She and Ridge were getting closer, and more than anything, she wanted to be ruled out as a suspect. Even though he was leaving when the case was over, she couldn’t deny the strong attraction. Maybe Rayann was right. A fling might not be so bad. Who was she kidding? Such behavior wasn’t in her DNA.
“Y’all know the ranger who’s investigating her murder. He thinks I may have had something to do with her death. It isn’t looking too good for me.” She closed her eyes and breathed in and out through her nose, waiting for a response. “I need help. C’mon, you tell me useless stuff all the time.”
She hesitated and nodded. “Not all useless. You were right about dating the box salesman. That could have been a disaster, him being married and all. But now, I really need your advice. Point me in the right direction. Give me an idea of who would do this.” She wiped tears on her sleeve. “Please. Grandma—Poppa—Paw—Boone—”
She stumbled to the bench. “Okay! Okay! Not everybody at once. I can’t understand any of you if you’re all talking at the same time.”
“Tizzy? Are you all right?”
She jerked her head up. “Cooper! You scared me. I didn’t hear you drive up. How long have you been here?”
“Long enough to see you crying your eyes out.” He moved closer. “Are you all right?”
“A little light-headed.”
“What happened? Did you get too hot from running?”
She placed fingertips to her temples. “No, my head roared, like my brain was flooded with too many things. That’s never happened before. Why are you here?”
“I came to check on you. You’re usually home from your run before I leave each morning and today you weren’t. I was worried. You’re pale. Maybe I should take you to the doctor.”
Alarm bells went off in her brain. “What? So now you’re watching me?”
“No. Not watching you—watching out for you.”
“This from a man who has me on a suspect list.”
He smiled. “Well, the smart ass in you is still intact, so I guess you’re okay. You said your head filled with thoughts. What were they?”
“I couldn’t understand them because they were coming so fast. I asked about Marlene, and they were trying to tell me something, but nothing was clear.”
He cupped her elbow with his hand. “Do you feel like you can stand?”
“Sure.” She made an attempt but wobbled and reached back for the tree. Ridge caught her and pulled her to him.
“I need another minute.” She rested her cheek on his chest. She liked the way her body fit against his. Finally, her head stopped spinning, and she pushed away. “I’m better.”
“You’re getting color back in your cheeks. Do you think you can walk?”
“I think so.”
“I thought you might introduce me to your friends and family.” He gestured with his hand toward the graves.
“Are you serious?”
“Absolutely.”
She hooked her arm in his and moved to Boone’s grave. “You’ve met my husband, but over here is my Grandma and Poppa Perry.” Making their way up two rows, she stopped in front of a large polished black headstone. “This is Paw McAlister.”
She waved her hand as if making a presentation. “Everyone, this is Ridge Cooper. The ranger I was telling you about.”
“You’ve told them about me?”
“I mentioned you were investigating Marlene’s murder.”
He scanned the graves from one side to the other. “You said everyone has a story, so pick somebody and tell me theirs.”
Ridge’s interest made her happy. It had been a long time since any man had given importance to what she had to say. “You choose someone.”
“Okay.” He led her up and down the rows, then stopped at two stones with the same last name. “What about these?”
“Stanley and Leo Watkins. Bless their hearts. They were both simple. Couldn’t read, write, or tell time, but cussed like sailors. The men in town teased them unmercifully. All in fun, but kind of cruel when you think about it. Anyway, Stan and Leo had an older brother who got killed in the war, and since he was single, they received his benefits.”
She laughed. “It was probably more money than they’d seen at one time. Anyway, they went to an auction and spent every penny on record albums. Understand, they didn’t own a record player. They pulled into town with the back of their pickup truck full and parked in front of the grocery store.”
Tizzy stepped from side to side as she told the story, now in full swing. “The gents congregated in front, asked Stan and Leo to share their purchase since they had so many. They refused. But the men kept badgering them until the brothers became agitated. Finally, Stan couldn’t take anymore and shouted, ‘if you want some records, let your own goddamn brother get killed in the war!’”
Ridge laughed. “How do you know that story?”
“My daddy. He’s a good storyteller. I don’t tell it as well as he does.”
Ridge pulled his brows together. “Most people think a cemetery is depressing, but the whole idea of death doesn’t seem to bother you. Why not?”
She liked his attention. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a conversation with a man, other than family members. This was something she could get used to. “There are things worse than death.”
He cocked his head. “Like what?”
“Fear. Loneliness. Suffering. Torture.”
Tizzy gazed out over the graves. “Have you ever thought that someday, every person who knows and loves you will be gone? When that day comes, when no one remembers you, it’ll be like you never exist
ed. That’s worse than death. To not have mattered. That’s why I like coming here. As long as we remember and pass stories down, these people won’t be forgotten.”
He wagged his head. “I’ve never met anybody like you.”
There was a timbre to his voice she’d not heard before. His eyes were warm, his expression soft, his lips slightly parted as if ready for a kiss. And she wanted to kiss him. Her cheeks burned. Suddenly conscious of her breast pressed against him, she slid her arm from his. The clouds shifted, and the sun disappeared. “There’s rain in the forecast. We’d better head to the car.”
Once inside the cruiser, Ridge fixed his eyes on her. “So Boone was the love of your life?”
Her heart stopped. She hadn’t expected the question. “I thought he was.”
“Thought?”
“I tried to blame Marlene for Boone’s death, but it wasn’t her fault. The truth is he loved her more than me.” Tears rolled onto her cheeks.
Ridge scrambled for his handkerchief. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She pulled herself together. “First, you have to understand how important appearance is in a small town. Especially for a woman like Marlene. She wanted her life to appear perfect. Perfect children. Perfect husband. Perfect house. Perfect, perfect, perfect. Boone knew that. He also believed if he didn’t come back and help run the bank, his refusal would be a direct slap to her face. So he did the one thing that wouldn’t hurt her image. He served his country.”
The memory of Boone and his decision caused a bitter taste in her mouth. She swallowed her disappointment and grief. “Marlene would still be perfect, and she could boast how perfect her brother was for being a patriot. So you see, he didn’t love me enough to stand up to her. It was more important to spare her feelings. Besides, she’d cared for him since he was twelve, and he owed her, and she never let him forget it.”
Tizzy drew a shallow breath. “I’ve never told anyone that. Saying it out loud hurts. I guess the answer to your question is— no. He wasn’t the love of my life. I wanted him to be. But the love of my life has to love me more than anyone or anything.”
Ridge reached out and clasped her hand. “I think he loved you more by doing what he did.”
She snapped her head toward him. “You didn’t even know him, and you’re defending him?”
“I’m not. But I’m a guy, and sometimes we do something we think is right, and it ends up wrong.”
She gave his hand a squeeze. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better. Maybe he thought he was doing the best thing for everyone. But he’s dead. Gracie doesn’t have a daddy, and I’m alone.” She turned away for a moment, then faced him again. “It seems all I do is cry when I’m with you.”
The sky growled and flashed. Trees swayed in the wind and rain trickled down the car windows distorting the view. He let go of her hand. “Yeah, all you do is cry, and all I do is apologize.”
Staring out the window, she fought the storm of emotions filling her chest. “We’d better get home.”
Chapter Fifteen
Draped with an antique lace cloth, the beauty of the dining table was lost beneath witness statements and documents. Ridge sorted and shifted the papers to organize them into stacks. He grabbed a legal pad, marked off columns, and headed each one with a name. Tizzy Donovan. Carl Weston. Kyle Richmond.
After interviewing the church ladies and Norma Harkey, he’d been excited about the information concerning Weston’s marriage. Anything pointing him in a direction away from Tizzy was good news.
Tizzy. He thought about her all the time, and that was dangerous. He was trying not to fall for her, but he couldn’t stop.
The clock on the mantle chimed eleven times. If he planned to meet Bubba at McAlister’s for a beer, he needed to get busy. He removed his shirt on the way to the bathroom, and once inside the shower, placed his hands flat against the wall, lowered his head and let the spray of hot water rain on him. His mind went back to the cemetery. He’d liked it when Tizzy pressed against him. He’d like more of that. Lots more. He squirted a handful of body wash and lathered up, then spun in a circle to rinse the suds.
He stepped out, leaned forward, and wiped the fog from the mirror with his hand. He was six hours past a five o’clock shadow. Hell, stubble was in. He liked it. Maybe she did too. He wanted to be with her. He knew it was wrong. But he didn’t care. Every time they were together, his desire grew stronger.
He smiled, remembering what she’d said to him when he’d left her house after their dinner date. You should smile more. It becomes you. The way the words spilled from her mouth with that soft southern drawl caused his pulse to race. What was he doing? Getting involved with a suspect was nuts. Was he willing to risk his career? The logical answer, the professional answer, was no. But his heart contradicted logic.
When he arrived at the tavern, a rowdy Friday-night crowd was in full swing. Ridge slid onto a stool and gave the room a quick sweep of his eyes. Behind him, three young women sat at a table swigging beer, while a couple of men circled, marking their territory. Not too long ago, he would have been among them. But those days were over. He wasn’t interested in one-night stands any longer. He preferred a regular partner, even if it wasn’t serious.
Jerrod Neiman’s new song blared from the jukebox. Lauralee pressed her body against Ridge’s back, draped her arms over his shoulders, and slurred her question. “How’s it going with Tizzy?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You and her. The two of you together.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The other night, she had a little talk with me. Told me to keep my hands off because she wanted you for herself. She hasn’t been laid in like—forever. After all these years without a man, I guess she decided you’re the one.”
Ridge pulled her around to face him. Unsteady, she slid onto the next stool. He leaned forward and cast a glance down the bar. “What did she say exactly?”
She pointed her finger in the air. “She said, ‘Lauralee, keep your hands off him. Because he's mine.’” Her head bobbed. “She’s been without a man for so long—she’s like a born-again virgin. She threw in a please and thank-you, cause that’s how she is. She just drips sweetness.”
He shifted on his stool to find Tizzy again and caught a glimpse of a man sitting alone at a corner table. He recognized the unmistakable slant of his Stetson. Ridge’s stomach turned. Frank Reynolds, in his early fifties, was as fit as any thirty-year-old. Even in a smoky bar, his boss stood out. Ridge shuffled over to him. “Captain Reynolds? What are you doing here? I mean, I’m surprised to see you, sir. Is there a problem with the investigation?”
“No, Cooper. This is a social call. I don’t think I mentioned I’m old friends with the McAlister’s. Saint and I went through the academy together. I’m killing two birds with one stone. Get in a visit and talk to you about the case.” He craned his neck past Ridge. “I see you’ve made a friend since you’ve been here.”
Ridge followed his line of vision. “Who? Her?” He laughed. “Believe me. Lauralee wants to be everybody’s friend. She may try to be yours before the night’s over.”
Reynolds ignored the remark. “How do you like small-town life? I understand you’re on good terms with local lawmen.”
“Yes sir, they’ve been helpful. The town is quiet and laid back.”
“From your reports, you’re coming along. You’ll get information concerning the vic’s car on Monday. They still don’t have a COD. Nothing came back on the original toxicology report, so they’re running more tests.” He darted his eyes back toward Lauralee. “Don’t let me keep you. You’re off the clock, so go. Enjoy yourself.”
“Yes, sir.” He strode away. Beads of perspiration formed on Ridge’s forehead and above his lip. He wiped the sweat with the back of his hand. The remarks about the local departments told him Captain Reynolds had been asking about him. Social call, my ass.
He returned to his place then looked back to f
ind Tizzy arm in arm with Captain Reynolds headed to the dance floor.
Just after midnight, Bubba and Rayann came in. As usual, Bubba shed his gun and uniform shirt, leaving him in jeans and a tee-shirt. Ridge couldn’t help but think how they reminded him of his niece’s Ken and Barbie dolls.
Captain Reynolds and Saint McAlister sat at a corner table, laughing as though they were reminiscing about younger days. Tizzy busied herself wiping down the counter. Stool by stool, Ridge advanced, until he was in front of her. “How ’bout a dance?”
She didn’t break tempo with the cloth. “I don’t think so, Cooper. I have work to do. But thanks for the offer.”
He smirked. “What? So now you’re playing hard to get?”
“No. I’m busy. That’s all.”
He swigged the last of his beer. “Oh, good news. Seems I’m not gay after all.” He broke into a laugh
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks. According to Lauralee, that’s not the story you gave her.”
Tizzy continued to wipe. “I wouldn’t put too much faith in anything she might tell you. She’s buzzed most nights. Who knows? She probably got her conversations confused.”
He walked away and headed toward the men’s room. No need pushing the matter. Apparently, she wanted to keep him at a distance. But now, thanks to Lauralee, he knew Tizzy was attracted to him, so maybe he should play hard to get.
~~*~~
The door swung open. Saint looked past Frank Reynolds and shouted to the young man standing inside. “Sorry, son, we’re closed.”
The thin man, with long dirty brown hair, unshaven, and sporting a gold hoop from each ear lobe, stepped deeper inside and pulled a gun. “I don’t think so. Give me the money from the register.”
Chapter Sixteen
With the scrawny man’s announcement, everyone froze in place.
He spoke to Tizzy. “You, honey, step out from behind there.” Next, he shouted toward the dance floor. “Blondie,” he waved his gun at Saint and Frank’s table, “you and your boyfriend, stand over there.”
Saint slowly rose with his hands in the air. “I’ll get the money for you. We don’t want any trouble.”
