Secrets, Lies & Love

by Roseanne Dowell

  Dead body? Meghan stared at Patrick. What was he talking about? A dead body? She moved toward him. "Where?"

  Patrick flipped his phone shut and raised his hand to stop her. "Trust me. You don't want to see this."

  Meghan ignored him. "What are you talking about a dead body?" She pushed past him and almost stepped on him. She suppressed a gag.

  A man's body lay in front of her, dried blood soaked his shirt and pooled around him, staining the rug. A knife stuck out of his chest. She backed up and bit her fist to squelch the screams rising to her throat. Her knees turned to mush, and she grabbed the first thing she could find to hold her up. Patrick.

  He cradled her head against his chest. Something deep inside her fought to get out, and she smothered it. Panic? Hysteria? She wasn't sure what it was. This wasn't like her. She never panicked, never got hysterical. But then she'd never found a dead body before either. Her legs shook uncontrollably. She couldn't believe this. A dead man in her living room. Who the heck was he? And what was he doing in her house?

  "Shh, it's okay." Patrick rubbed his hand across her back, sending shivers up her spine.

  If the situation wasn't so absurd, she might have enjoyed it. Still, a tingling of excitement raced through her body. Her dream come true, to be in Patrick's arms, and it took a situation like this to make it happen. Too bad it wasn't because he wanted to hold her. She raised her head and looked up at him. His brown eyes held a glint of gold.

  "Are you okay?" He stroked his thumb across her cheek.

  "I think so." She should move away, but it was as if a magnet held them together. The slight pressure of his thumb across her cheek sent heat coursing through her blood. Hot searing heat. Her lips trembled as his mouth came down to meet hers, barely making contact.

  Her heart raced against his chest. A sound, like the stomping of a foot, sounded behind her. She pulled away, breathless.

  Patrick turned away and ran his fingers through his dark wavy hair. "Pete..."

  Meghan leaned against the couch, not trusting her legs to hold her up. Crap, she didn't need this. Why had she given in so easily? Her body betrayed her. All logical thoughts of keeping this a strictly professional relationship just flew out the window. How was she going to face him tomorrow? Worse yet, Sheriff Pete Sanders saw them.

  Word of that kiss was going to be all over town before midnight. Rumors spread like wildfire in small towns like this. She could hear it now. Mr. Mac and his secretary have a thing going. Darn, she couldn't deal with this. Not to mention the dead man lying on her living room floor. God, for a moment she'd forgotten all about it. She cast a quick glance at Pete.

  Peter Sanders was the sheriff? Who would've thought? Littleton's closest thing to a juvenile delinquent was now the sheriff. Okay, not a juvenile delinquent, more of a prankster, really. He never got into any serious trouble. The usual cutting school, forging his parents' signature. Driving the teachers crazy. Class clown. If she recalled he got at least one detention a day. Now he's sheriff. Would wonders never cease?

  "What's going on here, Mac?" Pete cast a sidelong glance at Meghan, and heat seared her face. "What's this I hear about a dead body?"

  Stupid tendency her face had to turn red whenever something flustered her, inherited it from her grandmother. No doubt it was as red, or redder, than her hair. Not that it helped that she got caught kissing her boss. She turned away and avoided his stare.

  "Meghan and I were checking out the house and discovered it a few minutes ago." Patrick brought Pete's attention to the crime.

  Pete walked over, leaned down and looked at the body. "He's dead all right. Any idea who it is, or why he's in your house?" Pete looked at her.

  Meghan wrapped her arms across her chest. Suddenly, a cold shiver ran up her spine. "No, I've never seen him before. I just arrived in town today."

  "Looks like he's been here a while. From the stench, I'd say a few days at least." He pulled his phone from his pocket and pushed some numbers. "Sal, better send the coroner to the Rowlings' place and a couple of the crime lab boys too." He flipped the phone closed and looked at Meghan.

  "So, Ms Shelby, you've got no idea why someone would kill a man and leave him in your living room?"

  Patrick came to stand next to Meghan and put his arm around her. "Meghan already told you she didn't know who it was. How would she know why he's here?"

  The warmth of Patrick's arm made her feel protected. She leaned against him. Heck, who cared what the rumor mill thought. It felt good, and right now she needed a friend. The implication that she knew the man irritated her, not to mention Pete implied she had something to do with the murder.

  "Okay, you can go. This here's a crime scene now. You can't come back until we're finished examining the evidence." Pete rubbed his chin and stared at her.

  She didn't much care for the look on his face. Suspicious? Distrustful? Whatever it was, he wasn't done with her yet. Not by a long shot.

  * * *

  "Come on," Patrick led her out through the kitchen. "I'll follow you home."

  "No need. I'll be okay. Thanks for staying with me. I'm glad you stopped by."

  Patrick ran his hand through her hair, ruffling her short curls. He had the irresistible urge to kiss her again. She hadn't objected before, but how would she react now? Before she'd been vulnerable. Scared out of her wits.

  He leaned down and brushed her mouth with his. Just a hint of a kiss. When she didn't object, he put his arms around her and kissed her properly. Their mouths locked, and his tongue touched her lips, easing hers open ever so slightly. His tongue found hers and intertwined with it. His stomach quivered as heat spread throughout his body. Bringing his hands behind her head, he pulled her closer.

  Not a hard demanding kiss, tender, passionate. Ever since he saw her this afternoon, he wanted to do that. Hell, he wanted her a long time ago, but she was too young. Unfortunately, they moved away just when he thought he might ask her out.

  Patrick hadn't thought about her for a long time, but when he heard she was coming back to town, a strange excitement welled up in him. The fact that she was going to live right across the street sweetened the deal.

  He pulled away. "I'll see you tomorrow." He ran his hand across her cheek and claimed her mouth again. She tasted sweet, like apple pie. He could hardly control himself, instead he held the door while she got into the car and closed it.

  "Are you sure you don't want me to follow you?"

  "No, thanks. I'll be fine." Meghan started the car and smiled up at him.

  "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow."

  He watched her drive down the street. Something told him life was going to be good. It had been a long time since he thought of a woman this way. Since Payton left almost five years ago, he hadn't even allowed himself to date. Besides, he had Olivia to think about. He shook his head. Oh, yeah, his life was going to drastically change. For the better, of course. He'd been alone long enough.

  Chapter Five

  The next morning, Meghan woke before her alarm went off. She stretched and smiled. The prospect of seeing Patrick again excited her. Excited and scared her. Just seeing him again thrilled her. This wasn't good. At least he wasn't married. Worse, what if he wasn't interested in her? What if he only kissed her to comfort her? No, not that second kiss. That kiss screamed passion.

  Better put those feelings behind her. There's nothing to suggest Patrick might feel something for her. Nope, nothing at all. Somehow she had to get beyond these feelings, had to put those kisses out of her mind or working for him wasn't going to work. Nope, not at all.

  * * *

  "Morning." Patrick said when she came in the door.

  Already something awakened in Meghan. Something deep in the pit of her stomach. Her hands trembled. Stop this, she ordered herself to no avail. "Morning, Mr. Mac," she answered back, her voice barely above a whisper.

  "First order of business…" Patrick sat on the edge of her desk. "Quit calling me Mr. Mac."

  "How'd you
get that name anyway?" Meghan managed to compose herself.

  "They started calling me that my first year of teaching. One of the kids stumbled over my name and only managed to get out Mr. Mac. They've been calling me that ever since. Even the parents picked up on it."

  Meghan nodded. Made sense to her. "Okay, Mr...er..." She hesitated. "Patrick or Mac?"

  "Call me Patrick, except in front of the students, of course."

  She liked the way his smiled reached his eyes. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners. "Okay, Patrick." She swore even her toes turned red. What was it about him that made her blush so easily? "So, what exactly are my duties? Give me a quick job description."

  "Nothing about your job is quick. Basically, you do everything and anything." Patrick laughed. "Well, within reason. Besides working for me, you work for the teachers. You'll make copies for them. Keep them apprised of absences when a parent calls in. Answer the phone. Take messages, that sort of thing. You'll learn as you go along."

  Meghan took notes while he talked, glancing up occasionally. The way his dark hair curled around his ears made her want to run her fingers through it. Lord, this job wasn't going to be as easy as it sounded. The work she could handle, Patrick was a different story. "Anything else?"

  Patrick took a folder from a file cabinet and handed it to her. "Everything's pretty much laid out in here. Our former secretary listed all your duties."

  Meghan opened the folder. Quite a list. "Very efficient, your former secretary."

  "She was. I hated to lose her."

  "So, why did she quit?"

  "Retired. Mrs. Fields decided it was time to enjoy some personal time. Not that I blame her."

  "Mrs. Fields? She was still here?"

  "One and the same." Patrick stood, rubbed his hands together and looked at her. "Ready to get to work?"

  Meghan nodded and followed Patrick to the gym where boxes of books sat stacked against the wall. Sweet Mrs. Fields worked for Patrick. That had to be something to see. Good Lord, the woman must have been there since the school opened. One would have expected her to retire years ago.

  "First thing we need to do is unpack these books, check them off the invoice, stamp them and get them to the classrooms. I have a couple of boys coming in this afternoon to help distribute them."

  Patrick opened one of the boxes and handed Meghan the invoice. "Check them off while I count and read them to you."

  "Wouldn't it be quicker if you do one box, and I do another?" She didn't want to work in such close proximity to him. Already, the urge to touch him was hard to resist. She had to control herself, especially after last night.

  Patrick looked at her, shrugged and nodded. "Guess that would go quicker, wouldn't it." He handed her a stack of invoices. "Okay, start on that end, and we'll meet in the middle."

  Meghan went to the other end of the gym and opened a box. Next thing she knew, Patrick stood next to her. She looked up and gulped back a gasp. The look in his eyes screamed desire. Lord, not now, not here. She couldn't take her gaze from him, couldn't speak.

  He held his hand out to her. Meghan barely looked at it. She held her breath. Surely he wasn't going to kiss her. Not here, not in school. Not during business hours. What if someone walked in?

  "You forgot the stamp pad and stamp."

  Meghan's gaze went to his hands, and her face heated up. Talk about feeling like a fool. Too bad the ground couldn't open up and swallow her.

  "Thanks." She took the stamp pad from him and accidentally brushed his hand. Flickers of heat flared through her. She tried to look away but couldn't. Her gaze locked on his. He grinned, that silly grin she loved so much in her teenage years. Boy, what this man did to her.

  He finally moved away. "Guess we better get to work. Stamp the inside covers, front and back."

  Meghan nodded, too stirred up to even speak. She turned back to the boxes and pulled out a book, opened it, stamped it and set it aside. She worked rhythmically for the next few minutes, then cast a quick glance at Patrick. He seemed oblivious to her, tearing open the cartons, counting the books and stamping them. Maybe she had imagined his attraction.

  For the next two hours they never spoke. Every time the phone rang, she stopped to answer it, but he motioned her to keep working and took the call himself.

  "No point you answering it. You'd only have to call me anyway," Patrick said.

  Probably true, since she had no idea what was going on yet. Most of the calls were from parents with questions about the new school year. She'd get in the groove soon enough.

  "Let's stop for lunch," Patrick said after one of the phone calls.

  Meghan looked up at the clock. Twelve o'clock already. The morning passed quicker than she'd realized. Her back ached from bending over the boxes. She stood up and rubbed it.

  "Sore?"

  "Yeah, a little." She followed him into the office, opened her desk drawer and took out the lunch Aunt Clara packed her.

  "Oh, you brought your lunch?"

  "Yeah, wasn't I supposed to?" He never mentioned lunch, and the kitchen wasn't opened yet. Next week when all the teachers came back it might be.

  "I ordered a pizza. Should be here any minute." Patrick sat on the edge of her desk.

  "Pizza sounds good." Meghan put her lunch back in the drawer. "A lot better than peanut butter and jelly."

  The buzzer sounded, and Patrick went to let the pizza delivery man in. It startled Meghan to see Bert Ruskin standing there holding the pizza and a couple colas. Bert had been the smartest guy in class. What the heck was he doing delivering pizza?

  "Hey, Meghan, how ya doing?" Burt asked.

  "Good, how about you, Burt?"

  "Can't complain." He handed the pizza to Patrick. "You know I only do this especially for you," he said.

  "I know. I know." Patrick took the pizza and laughed. "It pays to know the owner of the pizza shop. No one else gets special delivery."

  "It's not just the special delivery. I don't usually open until three."

  Patrick set the pizza on the counter across the room and pulled out his wallet.

  "Hey, no charge. It's on the house. Enjoy." Burt looked at Meghan and nodded. "See you later, Meg."

  Before she had a chance to answer, he left. Wow, no one had called her Meg in a long time. In fact, now that she thought about it, Burt was the only one who called her that. She remembered how he used to say it just before he kissed her goodnight when they dated briefly her junior year. "Meg, Meg, Meg, my pretty little Meg." Meghan wasn't overly fond of the name, but she tolerated it. Now she wasn't quite sure why.

  Burt hadn't changed much in the past ten years. Still handsome as ever with his blond, curly hair and dusty blue eyes. All the girls chased after him. She never could figure out why he'd choose her. Not that it lasted long. Two months tops. Then he was off to greener pastures, Susan Gerber if she recalled correctly. Dated her rest of junior year and well into senior year, according to the few friends Meghan kept in contact with after they moved. Everyone expected Burt and Susan to get married.

  Patrick set a paper plate with pizza and a one of the colas on her desk, bringing her back to the present.

  "So, Burt owns the pizza shop now?"

  "Has for the last five years. Bought it when old man Marrili decided to retire. Does a good business."

  "So, did he marry Susan Gerber?" Meghan hated to sound like she was interested, because she wasn't, but she couldn't contain her curiosity.

  "Nah, they broke up during college. He went his way, and she went hers. I think she married some guy up in New York. Only comes back to visit her folks. Real high-falutin' now. Has a couple of kids and dresses to kill."

  "Susan? You're kidding. That doesn't sound like her."

  "Guess the guy she married is loaded. Went to her head. Too bad. She was a nice kid."

  Susan had been a nice kid. Down to earth. Came from a good family. Not rich, but comfortable. Her father owned the dry cleaners. Maybe they had a bit more money than some
of the other kids, but Susan never flaunted it. Her whole family was always ready to lend a hand. Even helped distribute gifts to the less fortunate at Christmas time. "Just goes to show what money can do to a person. So, is Burt married?"

  "Nope."

  Meghan didn't like the way Patrick looked at her when he answered. Heck, she was just making polite conversation. Thank goodness the phone rang, and she didn't have to say anything more. She finished her pizza and picked up her cola. She could finish it in the gym. She needed to distance herself from Patrick.

  She went back to work and next thing she knew, several boys stood next to her. Patrick directed them where to take the completed boxes. She continued to work until she finished the last box. She stood up and stretched and couldn't remember when her back hurt so badly.

  "Don't worry, it's not always like this." Patrick came up behind her and massaged her shoulders.

  Meghan leaned her head back. Lord, it felt good. His fingers pressed into her muscles sending shockwaves down to her toes. She would have pulled away, but her sore muscles appreciated the way his fingers loosened her up. Besides, she could no more move away from him than she could stop breathing.

  "How about dinner tonight?"

  Her head spiraled from his breath in her ear. The very nearness of him made her dizzy with excitement. How in the world was she going to work with this man day in and day out? Maybe it hadn't been a good idea taking this job. She pulled away. If those boys came in, this wasn't a picture she wanted to project.

  "Do you think that's a good idea?" she asked.

  "Sure, why not?"

  "You know how small towns talk. You have a reputation to uphold." She laughed. "So do I, for that matter."

  Patrick laughed. A loud contagious laugh. "Are you really worried about our reputations?"

  "You know how rumors start."

  "Ah, so you don't want to be seen with the principal. It might ruin your reputation."

  "I just don't want to be the topic of tomorrow's gossip."