Her Small-Town Sheriff

by Lissa Manley

  Without thought, another prayer rose from her lips as she neared the station.

  Please, Lord, watch over and keep Heidi safe until we can find her.

  Because Carson would never forgive her, and she would never forgive herself, if something happened to Heidi.

  And no matter what, Phoebe had a sinking feeling he’d be livid she’d foolishly shared with Heidi what Carson had revealed in confidence last night.

  How could she have made such a mess of things?

  Chapter Seven

  “Sheriff, Phoebe Sellers is here to see you.”

  Carson nearly spilled his coffee when he jerked up from the paperwork on his desk toward his office door to look at Rona, the tall, thin receptionist who’d been manning the phones and front desk around here for almost thirty years.

  What was Phoebe doing here in the middle of the day?

  His gut rolled, and before he could gather his thoughts and speak past the rock in his throat, Phoebe pushed his office door open wider, made herself skinnier and squeezed around Rona, practically knocking the woman over.

  “Carson, sorry to barge in, but Heidi ran off from the shop, and I’m not sure where she went,” Phoebe announced, her face etched with worry.

  He rose, and so did his concern. “What happened?” he asked, coming around his desk.

  “We were…talking, and she got upset…” Phoebe wrung her hands together and cast a worried gaze at Rona hovering in the doorway.

  Carson got the unfortunate drift. “Rona, would you please excuse us?” he politely asked.

  Rona pursed her scarlet lips, inclined her head and then, in a swish of her yellow-and-orange-flowered skirt, turned and left, closing the door behind her.

  Carson wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t already have an ear pressed to the door.

  He ignored the upsetting thought and swiped a hand through his hair, as if the action could somehow magically keep his head from exploding with worry. “What’s going on?”

  Phoebe shook her head. “I messed up.”

  “Explain.”

  She took a deep breath, let it out slowly and then said in a measured tone, “We were talking, and she seemed so sad. I know how that feels, so I told her I understood what she’s going through and…” Phoebe trailed off, her blue eyes begging for his understanding.

  “Keep going,” Carson said, impatiently gesturing in the air with his hand. He had a bad feeling he knew where this conversation was headed.

  “And…” She bit her lip. “Well, I didn’t know what you told me was a secret, and I let it slip that I knew what had happened.”

  He slammed his eyebrows together.

  Phoebe visibly swallowed. “Our conversation last night?” she said, wincing.

  “About her mom and her brother?” he bit out.

  Phoebe nodded again. “And she started crying, jumped up and ran out.”

  “Didn’t you try to stop her?”

  “Of course I did. But there were customers in the doorway, and by the time I got outside, she was gone.”

  He automatically went into cop mode and pulled out his cell phone, knowing now wasn’t the time to lay into Phoebe for upsetting his daughter. That fun little discussion could wait until he knew Heidi was safe. “How long ago was this?”

  “Less than ten minutes.”

  “Guess it’s time to get my kid a cell phone so I can call her every time she takes off. Great.” He punched speed dial number one, willing himself to not imagine the worst, which had been a major challenge for him the minute his son had died in front of him. “I’m calling Mrs. Philpot. Hopefully Heidi goes straight home.”

  As the phone rang on the other end of the line, Carson watched Phoebe pace, her arms crossed over her waist, her shoulders noticeably stiff.

  She was obviously sweating the situation, and part of him felt bad that she’d gotten swept up in the ongoing drama of the Winters family.

  Yet another part blamed himself for letting down his usual guard by spilling to Phoebe about CJ, and not telling her that he’d promised Heidi he wouldn’t tell anyone about CJ. Double whammy. Guess there was a lesson there.

  Mrs. Philpot answered after four rings. “Winters residence.”

  “Mrs. Philpot, this is Carson. Is Heidi there?”

  “No, Sheriff, she’s working at the ice cream store this afternoon, remember?”

  “I know, but she got upset and ran off, and I thought she might have made it home already.” Wishful thinking—their house was about a half mile from the center of town, and would take at least fifteen minutes to reach on foot—but hope won out.

  “Oh, dear,” Mrs. Philpot said, her tone grave. “She hasn’t arrived here yet.” A pause. “How long ago did she run off?”

  “Ten minutes.”

  “Then she wouldn’t be here by now.”

  “I know. It’s possible she didn’t even go home.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “But I don’t have anything else to go on, so I’ll take a swing through town, then drive home and keep an eye out for her on the way in case she’s in transit.”

  “I’ll call you if she shows up here,” Mrs. Philpot said.

  “Thanks. Let’s just hope we figure out where she is by the time I get there.”

  “Would you like me to call some of her friends?” Mrs. Philpot asked.

  “No, let’s not get everybody worried just yet. If we don’t find her soon, then we’ll go to Plan B.”

  “Okay, Sheriff. I’ll keep the phone in my hand and let you know the minute she arrives.”

  Bless the woman for being so levelheaded. “Thank you,” he said, and then pressed End.

  The phone had barely cut off before Phoebe said from behind him, “I’m going with you.”

  He looked at the floor to slow his heart, then up at Phoebe, noting the determined set to her chin and her level, just-try-to-stop-me stare. Part of him admired her for her resolve. Part of him wanted to put her in a rowboat in the middle of Moonlight Cove Lake and keep the oars.

  He didn’t have time for either reaction, and he had a feeling trying to stop her would be a waste of precious time.

  “Fine.” He grabbed his hat from the coatrack by the door on his way out. “I don’t have time to argue.”

  To her credit, she didn’t thank him or try to give him her opinion, and he was sure she had one. She simply hustled into step behind him and stayed silent as he headed out to his cruiser in the parking lot behind the station. He hollered to Rona on his way that he was leaving.

  Carson welcomed Phoebe’s silence now—he didn’t need any distractions from finding Heidi. But sooner or later, he and Phoebe would have a very frank discussion about what had happened at the ice cream parlor with her and Heidi.

  He jammed his hat onto his head.

  And that wasn’t a conversation he was looking forward to having.

  *

  The silence in the police truck was deafening.

  Phoebe told herself this was to be expected as she slanted a glance over at Carson and saw the little muscle tick in his jaw again.

  With spare efficiency he negotiated the car up Main Street and out of the south end of town, his large hands tight on the steering wheel of his SUV. As he drove, his laserlike gaze swept left and right beneath the brim of his hat for any sign of Heidi.

  Per his terse instructions when they’d left the police station, Phoebe also kept her eyes peeled for Heidi. Hopefully the girl was on her way home and they’d see her and that would be that. No harm, no foul.

  But what if they didn’t find her? What if something unthinkable happened? The thought made Phoebe literally ill.

  She clenched her hands in her lap and bit her tongue, resisting the strong urge to explain to Carson what had happened with her and Heidi in greater detail. To make him understand Phoebe had had the best of intentions.

  Now, though, was not the time to expect a discussion.

  She sent up a silent prayer to God for Heidi’s safety, then sat quietly a
nd scanned the passing sidewalks. Nothing. Where had Heidi gone?

  About a half mile outside of the main part of town, Carson turned into an older development called Cove Shores. The houses here were mostly mid-fifties ramblers with large lots, and while the majority were relatively well kept, some had fallen into clear disrepair and had overgrown yards and peeling paint. A few even had junker cars languishing in the moss-covered driveways.

  She was a bit surprised he lived here, given there were much nicer, newer neighborhoods just across the highway. But there were a lot of rentals in this neighborhood. Maybe he was renting until he found something nicer?

  He hung a quick right onto Gull Court, and then, after driving about three blocks, made a sweeping left turn and brought the SUV to a lurching halt in the driveway of a midcentury ranch badly in need of a coat of paint.

  While the yard wasn’t overgrown, it was dull and sparse, and had little formal landscaping to speak of. A patch of scraggly, lifeless grass covered the small front yard. The flower beds had probably sported annuals at one time, but now they were nothing but dirt. The place had a sad, neglected feel to it that made Phoebe’s heart hurt.

  Ignoring the sensation as best she could, she noted the newer blue compact car they’d pulled next to in the driveway. And the older flame-haired woman dressed in a lime-green sweatsuit hovering on the porch, her arms crossed over her chest.

  Undoubtedly Mrs. Philpot.

  Carson punched a button and rolled down his window as the babysitter came hurrying forward, shaking her head.

  “She’s not here yet, Sheriff,” she said, drawing up to Carson’s window, her brow furrowed.

  Carson whacked his hand on the steering wheel. The sound tore through Phoebe like a knife.

  “Would you like me to get in my car and help you look?” Mrs. Philpot asked.

  He rubbed his shadowed jaw. “No, I need you to stay here in case she shows up.”

  Mrs. Philpot nodded her agreement.

  Phoebe leaned forward. “Maybe we should go drive around town and look some more.”

  Just then, his radio went off. He jammed a rigid finger into a button on the dash and said, “Yes, Rona?”

  Rona’s voice crackled across the radio. “We just got a call from Molly Kent. Apparently your daughter is at Bow Wow Boutique, and Molly thought you’d want to know.”

  A tide of relief swept through Phoebe, and judging by the sudden sag to Carson’s broad shoulders, he was feeling the same sense of reprieve.

  “Thanks, Rona,” he said. “Let Molly know I’ll be right there.”

  “Sure thing, Chief. Over and out.”

  “Over and out,” Carson repeated.

  Mrs. Philpot pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh, thank goodness she’s okay.”

  “Amen,” Carson muttered, his hands now slack on the steering wheel. After a moment, he looked at Mrs. Philpot. “I’ll go get her and bring her home.”

  Phoebe read his subtext—Heidi wouldn’t be coming back to the parlor today. Or maybe…ever?

  “Of course, Sheriff,” Mrs. Philpot replied, backing up a step. “I’ll be waiting for her.”

  Carson tipped his head. “That would be great, Mrs. P. You’re a gem. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Sheriff,” she said, then leaned down and looked at Phoebe through the window. “I’m Carolyn Philpot, by the way.”

  “I figured that,” Phoebe said. “Phoebe Sellers.”

  “Sorry we’re not meeting under more relaxed circumstances.”

  “Me, too,” Phoebe replied.

  Mrs. Philpot headed up the driveway.

  His jaw still resembling granite, Carson shifted the SUV into Reverse, backed up into the street and shoved the gearshift into Drive. He gunned the engine and the vehicle jumped forward, headed in the direction they’d just come from.

  Phoebe sat next to him, worrying a hangnail on her thumb, her throat tight. She was definitely on his list, as was painfully evident when his conversational skills didn’t improve as they returned to town.

  And to a reckoning Phoebe wasn’t sure she wanted to face.

  *

  As Carson drove from his house into the main part of town, his shoulders gravitated away from his ears, and the harsh voice of worry that had been jabbing at him since Phoebe had shown up at the station thankfully shut up.

  Crisis averted. Daughter safe. Status: apparently fine.

  He stopped at the light at Tenth and Main and glanced quickly at Phoebe without turning, noting her knotted hands in her lap and overall stiff posture. Her tense silence seemed as big as the gigantic land mammal figuratively sharing the vehicle.

  They needed to talk.

  Heidi was out of harm’s way, so he allowed himself to de-compartmentalize his thoughts and focus his energy directly on thinking about what he was going to say to Phoebe.

  Now that he’d had a bit of time to calm down, he realized that he should have been up-front with Phoebe about his promise to Heidi not to divulge details of their personal life to anyone. He really couldn’t blame Phoebe for talking to his daughter about CJ and Susan. Phoebe wasn’t a mind reader. He owed her an apology.

  “I’m going to go park by Molly’s place,” he said as he hit the Moonlight Cove main drag.

  “Okay,” Phoebe answered, her voice small.

  The forlorn tone of her voice made something inside of him shift. He stopped at another light, and, unable to help himself, he turned and looked at her.

  She turned his way and gave him a tremulous smile, obviously trying to put on a brave face. But her eyes glittered with tears. “Carson, I’m so sorry.” She sniffed. “I…I want you to know that I only had good intentions, and I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to say anything.”

  “I know. It’s my fault, and I apologize for being curt. Don’t worry, all right?”

  Phoebe nodded, blinking. “All right.”

  He opened his door and climbed out, adjusting his utility belt as he straightened. Nodding to Bertram Loud, the local bank manager who was so old and crippled he could barely shuffle along the boardwalk unassisted—how the man still worked every day was beyond Carson—he turned in the direction of Molly’s store.

  Phoebe fell in beside him. “Um…is it okay if I come with you?”

  He stopped and put his hands on his hips. “I’m not sure that would be a good idea,” he replied, thinking of Heidi.

  Wordlessly, Phoebe nodded. She cast her eyes down, then, seeming to think better of backing off, she looked up and came forward half a step, her hand outstretched. With her eyes radiating pure blue sincerity, she said in a rushed tone, “Would you reconsider? I really want to make sure she’s okay, and I’d like to apologize.”

  He stared at her, chewing on his cheek.

  “I’ll only stay a minute,” Phoebe said before he could respond, her voice laced in a winning tone clearly meant to convince him to let her go with him.

  Her tactic worked. Hoping he didn’t regret his decision, he dipped his head. “Fine. But make it quick. I don’t want to upset Heidi any more than she already is.”

  Phoebe’s face softened in relief, and her mouth split into a grateful smile that did funny things to his insides. “Thank you. I will. Make it quick, that is.”

  He turned and headed down the boardwalk and Phoebe fell in beside him, walking quickly to keep up with his long stride. He was anxious to see Heidi.

  As he drew up to Bow Wow Boutique, the wind coming off the ocean a block away tugged on the brim of his hat and brought the scent of salt and rain. The forecast called for rain by nightfall, continuing on for the next few days.

  Grimly, he set his jaw, readying himself to have a heart-to-heart with Heidi. One where he ate crow and explained why he’d betrayed her confidence.

  Unfortunately, the weather front moving in wasn’t the only nasty storm brewing. Not by a long shot.

  Chapter Eight

  Her heart in her throat, Phoebe stepped into Bow Wow Boutique, Carson an unmistakable p
resence behind her. She was thankful he’d capitulated and let her hang around to speak with Heidi. Phoebe’s conscience demanded she apologize and then fix her blunder and assure Heidi that she was a friend and not an enemy. If that was possible.

  Before the door had closed behind them, Molly rushed forward. “She’s fine.”

  Carson cast his gaze around. “Where is she?”

  “In my office playing with Peter and Parker.”

  Carson raised his brows in question.

  “My miniature schnauzers,” Molly explained. “I’m a big Spider-Man fan.” Molly’s copper brows slammed together as her gaze caught on Phoebe. “Why do you look like you need a hug?”

  Before Phoebe could react, Molly stepped forward and gave her a quick, heartfelt hug only a longtime friend could offer. Phoebe’s tension eased a teensy bit.

  Carson cleared his throat. “What happened?”

  “She showed up here, crying, upset,” Molly said, moving behind the checkout counter. “The dogs greeted her, and they seemed to calm her down. So I suggested they go play in my office, and then I remembered that Phoebe had said when we talked earlier today that Heidi was working at her store this afternoon, so I called Phoebe to see what was up.”

  “Go on,” Carson prompted.

  “So,” Molly said. “Tanya answered the phone at the parlor and told me Phoebe had taken off to find Heidi, so I called the station and talked to Rona and told her what was up. She said you two had left together, and she then called you. I encouraged Heidi to stay until you got here.”

  Made sense. “Heidi must have come in here right after she left my store,” Phoebe said. “She wasn’t on the boardwalk when I checked right after she ran out.”

  “She seemed embarrassed to be crying. I got the sense she was hiding,” Molly said.

  Phoebe lifted her shoulders. “That would be my fault.”

  “Say what?” Molly said, pulling in her chin.

  Carson cut in. “I’m going to go talk to Heidi.” He pointed toward the back of the store. “I assume your office is back there?”

  Molly nodded.

  “Thanks,” he said, already in motion.

  Phoebe watched him walk back to Molly’s office. He hesitated for a moment by the door and seemed to be bracing himself. Funny how the big, brave cop could be brought low by a twelve-year-old girl. Although, from what she’d seen, the title of Dad was way more daunting than that of Sheriff.