by Tanya Agler
He lifted his right hand above his eyes and then turned his head like a periscope. “Where’s Vanessa Maxwell, and what have you done with her?”
Her giggles brightened his day, and she came over and yanked on his blue polo shirtsleeve. “Daddy, it’s me.”
He finished cutting the onion into pieces and deposited them in the processor. “Nope, it can’t be my Nessie. Mine’s like clockwork. Every evening at six on the dot she comes into the kitchen and asks the same question.”
Another giggle lightened his mood even more. “What’s for dinner?”
He snapped his fingers. “Well then, I was wrong. You’re my little girl, all right. It’s taco night. I’m making the salsa now.” He picked up the garlic press and squeezed fresh cloves into the mixture. “Now, what are we talking about here? A slumber party? Horse lessons? A used disco ball?”
Vanessa doubled over, and his heart all but melted. Izzy ran into the kitchen, paper in hand. “Dad, there you are. We have to talk.”
“Well, talk away. My imaginary vacation to Tahiti fell through at the last minute, so you’re stuck with me.” He added the rest of the ingredients and pulsed the salsa until it reached the consistency he wanted.
Izzy tapped her foot, her short brown hair the same rich toffee color as his. Vanessa had inherited Anne’s fair complexion.
Izzy shoved the paper under his nose. “Read this. It doesn’t cost much money, and it would expand our educational horizons you’re always telling us about.”
“And my best friend is going.” Vanessa chimed in before Jonathan could skim the flyer.
“Dull roar, okay?” He reached for his reading glasses. Ah, the joys of getting older. Although some wouldn’t consider thirty-seven very old. He slipped on his glasses and shook his head at the community center’s Thanksgiving break offering during the weeklong school holiday. “It’s a no-go, girls. You know Aunt Tina is excited to have you over that week. She has lots planned.”
“But we see Aunt Tina all the time.” Vanessa narrowed her eyes and smiled, that dimple in her cheek as adorable as she was. “This is Heartsgiving. We’d be learning everything about hearts. How they work and how to draw them, and we’d be expanding our hearts by bringing in canned food so we can help the center start a food bank to help people of Hollydale. That’s what the pretty woman said at the assembly today.”
Pretty woman? Vanessa could only be describing Brooke. After he’d written out two tickets on radar duty, one for speeding and one warning for a broken taillight, he had intended on returning to the center for a tour of the computer lab. Instead, an urgent dispatch from Harriet concerning a report of a bear spotted near the elementary school required his presence. Fortunately, the bear turned out to be a friendly Great Dane, who was only too happy to make the acquaintance of Jonathan and the animal control officer. Thanks to the dog’s collar, the owner came within minutes and picked up his pet, apologizing for the trouble.
How he’d missed Brooke at the school if they’d been there at the same time was beyond him. She was hard to miss. There was a unique air about her, one of formality yet casual elegance, that emphasized her laser-focused personality.
The way Vanessa tapped her foot suggested she was waiting for him to change his mind. He wasn’t. “Aunt Tina already asked Lucie for the time off. She’s going to teach you how to knit.”
Protests started on both sides as he placed the salsa in the refrigerator to chill, swapping out the bowl for the package of ground beef for the taco filling. His cell phone rang, and he thanked whoever it was for the interruption. The screen display showed the power of suggestion as it was, indeed, his favorite aunt, Tina.
“We were just talking about you. Izzy and Vanessa are right here. They’re looking forward to Thanksgiving.”
The protests turned to glares, and he shooed them away. They retreated with their shoulders slumped.
“About that.” Her apologetic tone didn’t bode well. “Lucie just had a major company book the retreat center for the weekend before Thanksgiving until we close on Wednesday.”
Lucie had married his cousin Caleb Spindler after she renovated her family’s lodge and turned it into a health and wellness facility, which now bordered the nature conservancy Caleb helmed. “That’s great. I’m glad things are looking up for her. Can you take over hosting duties on Thanksgiving since Lucie’s going to be so busy?”
He’d be grateful since he wouldn’t be there. Next month’s tentative schedule had him working on Thanksgiving. Another sure sign he was turning into his parents. At least the girls would be spending the day with relatives who loved them. Being without a mom wasn’t easy. Being without both parents on holidays had to stink, too, same as it had when his mother and father hadn’t spent a holiday with him and instead worked.
If he received this promotion to detective, however, he’d be spending more time with his daughters, maybe even as early as this Christmas. Getting the job was a big if. His current case might hold the key to landing the position. There had to be something he’d missed today, but what?
“A purple hippopotamus flying over the center.” His aunt’s voice rang in his ears.
“Run that by me one more time.” Admitting he’d been daydreaming would be rather embarrassing. He switched the phone to his other ear and pushed the ground beef around in the cast-iron skillet, the popping sounds providing a much better excuse for his failure to keep up with the conversation. “I’m making tacos, and it’s time to add the water and seasoning. I have one more minute to talk.”
“Aha, I knew it. You weren’t listening, so I’ll repeat myself. Lucie needs me to also work then, but a month should give you enough time to find someone else to watch Izzy and Vanessa since that whole week of Thanksgiving is a school holiday, right? Do you want me to check with Ethan and Mattie’s regular babysitter? She might be available. If she can take care of Lucie’s twins, she can handle anything.”
Jonathan laid down the spatula and picked up the flyer. He wasn’t a big believer in coincidences, but this Heartsgiving day camp might be the perfect solution. “I have a lead on something to keep them busy during the first three days of the week. But Thanksgiving is now at your house instead of Lucie’s, right? What do you want me to bring?”
“How about those sweet potatoes I love so much?” The smacking sound gave away how much his entire family loved his signature dish.
“Izzy would disown me if I didn’t.” The meat was ready for the seasoning. “We’ll talk more later.”
He switched the flyer in his hand for the measuring cup holding the water. Now he had an excuse to visit the attractive Brooke once more.
The water sizzled coming in contact with the hot pan and ground beef, and he stirred in the seasoning. Izzy wandered back into the kitchen. “Did you two discuss adult stuff?”
“Aunt Tina wanted to talk about work.”
“Oh.” Her disappointment rubbed him the wrong way, and he frowned.
If he told Izzy about the work emergency, it might sound like he’d given in to their demands. There were times he missed Anne’s sage advice more than ever.
“She was also checking to make sure we were still bringing your favorite dish to Thanksgiving.”
Izzy perked up and rubbed her stomach. “Apple pie.”
He shook his head. “Sweet potatoes.”
“Dad, that was so last week. You have to keep up with the times.”
Vanessa rushed in and skidded to a stop. “Is dinner ready?”
“Not yet.” He might as well tell them now. He reached for the flyer and stifled the urge to fold it into a paper airplane. “I changed my mind. I’ll stop by the center tomorrow and sign you up.”
Vanessa’s shriek almost burst his eardrums. She threw her arms around his waist and squeezed. “I can’t wait to tell Lily. You’re the best dad ever.”
One look at Izzy’s arc
hed eyebrows convinced him that was wishful thinking on Vanessa’s part, but he’d take the approbation where he could get it. “Thanks, Nessie.”
She released him, her eyes sparkling. “You don’t have to make a special trip to the center, though. You can register us online.”
Izzy opened the refrigerator and pulled out tomatoes and cheese. “Vanessa and I can get the toppings ready if you want to register us now.”
Vanessa’s head nodded up and down like a tightly wound spring. “That’s a good idea. That way you won’t forget. My teacher forgets where she puts her glasses and then laughs when we tell her they’re on her head.”
He’d met Vanessa’s teacher, who was set to retire at the end of the year. Nice to know Vanessa grouped him in with anyone over thirty. “Thanks.”
As quickly as it arrived, there went his excuse to visit Brooke again.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, Jonathan adjusted his eyes to the dim fluorescent lighting of Mo’s Gas and Bait Stop. If only he could adjust his nostrils as easily. The strong odor of night crawlers and other types of bait overpowered him, even though he’d done his best to steel himself before entering.
He nodded at Vern, who returned the gesture before scurrying out of the shop, a bucket of live worms in hand for a day of fishing at Lake Pine. Everyone around here knew he and his group of senior cohorts gathered on the shores each morning as a way of eluding their honey-do lists more than for the sport of fishing itself. A nice catch of walleye was a bonus that provided for a tasty supper.
That was, for people who loved fresh grilled fish. It had been his mother’s favorite go-to dinner at nine at night. Jonathan couldn’t stomach the taste.
Jonathan clipped his sunglasses to the front of his uniform and spotted Mo Chastain at the counter.
Mo waved him over, his denim overalls over a blue plaid flannel shirt—his one apparent concession to fall. “Officer Maxwell, I didn’t know if Harriet would send the sheriff over or someone else.”
“Hope I’m not that much of a disappointment.” Jonathan whipped out his notepad and pencil. “What can you tell me about the person who came in here to buy cigarettes?”
Mo scratched his balding head and sat on his stool. “Didn’t recognize him, for one thing.” Considering Mo knew everyone for miles, that probably meant the teen wasn’t local. “I could tell right off the kid thought I wouldn’t give a second thought to selling him a pack of smokes.”
Not many besides Jonathan knew this, but Mo was a member of Mensa. He often finished three sudoku puzzles in the parking lot of Sweet Shelby’s Tea Room while waiting to drive his wife, Belinda, the Pie Queen of Hollydale, home, since iritis had curtailed her driving for the next few months. Mo was sharp as a tack.
“What gave the perp away?”
“If he ever shaved before, I’d be surprised. Fifteen’s closer to his real age than twenty-one. For another thing, the license didn’t feel right.” Mo tapped his fingers on the battered counter.
The bells on the door jangled, and Jonathan glanced over his shoulder as another older gentleman shuffled over to the wall of flies and other colorful tackle. Jonathan faced Mo again. “Run that by me again. How did it feel off to you?”
“I’ve handled licenses in this establishment for going on fifty years. You just know how they feel.” Mo shrugged and motioned for Jonathan to step aside. He rang up the newcomer’s purchases. “Great choice, Norm. Can I interest you in a bucket of minnows on this fine Friday morning? I heard some mighty nice comments on how the walleyes are clamoring for them.”
“Two buckets and five dollars of scratch-offs ought to do it.” Norm reached for his purchases and left.
“Lightweight. Not the same heft to it. The plastic didn’t feel right either.” Mo resumed his answer without missing a beat.
“I’ll take the license with me, then.” Jonathan reached for an evidence bag.
Mo closed the cash register. “Kid grabbed it and muttered something about it being a worthless piece of junk from the community center before he ran out.”
Jonathan pointed to the video camera prominently displayed near the ceiling. “What about the footage? Can I take a look at it?” A judge would sign off on a warrant if need be, but Mo’s permission would suffice.
“Sure. Come on around.” Mo rose and unlocked the small door leading to his alcove. He punched a couple of buttons, and video footage popped up on the screen. “It was about a half hour ago.”
Jonathan glued his gaze to the small screen until Mo hit a button. “That’s the kid.”
After a few minutes, it was clear the kid’s hoodie with the logo of Jonathan’s favorite baseball team shielded his face. The kid had done a good job glancing at the floor so there was never a clear view, even when he snatched the fake license and ran.
“Sorry. Guess this was a waste of your time coming out here.”
“Not at all. You helped my investigation.” Somewhat, as it indicated the incidents hadn’t stopped yet. “Can you give me any other information about the teenager? Height? Weight?”
Mo scratched his chin and redistributed his weight on the stool. “Lanky sort. About my oldest son’s height, so that would make him right about six feet. Longish hair fell over his eyes, which were sort of a mottled color. Not really brown, not really blue.”
“Hazel? Like mine?”
“That sounds as good as any other.”
“Thanks for your time, Mo.”
Only time would tell what would become of this. If these were fake licenses acquired over the internet, there’d be few ways of tracking down the seller with the limited resources of the Hollydale Police Department, which had a smaller staff than his previous post in Savannah. Even then, his former superior would have written this off as not serious enough to pursue. However, this was the second time in as many days someone mentioned the community center. Perhaps there was a way to find out if this was a local job rather than yet another instance of teenagers ordering them online.
Jonathan tipped his cap at Mo and hurried to his squad car, breathing in gulps of the clean air unencumbered by the strong odor of fresh bait. His next step was clear.
It was time to pay Brooke another visit.
* * *
BROOKE WOLFED DOWN the rest of her avocado veggie wrap and then organized the last of her books on the middle row of her office bookshelf. She straightened the pictures of her and Colin on the top shelf and went to retrieve her duster when the intercom buzzed.
“Brooke, this cutie of an officer is back. Do you want me to send him to your office?” Betty sounded almost giddy at Officer Maxwell’s second visit to the center in so many days, a far cry from the flutters in Brooke’s stomach that had nothing to do with lunch or the officer’s easygoing manner.
And presumably everything to do with his presence on yet another official matter. Her boss, Mr. Whitley, hadn’t been nearly as enthusiastic as Betty when she updated him yesterday about the police presence at the center. Thankfully, she’d been on her way to the elementary school, where she pitched the idea of Heartsgiving to the students as part of their pep rally. That had given her an excuse to cut the call short.
“Brooke?” Betty interrupted her reverie.
“Be right there.”
While her office was taking shape, it wasn’t perfect yet. She brushed Daisy’s tan fur off her blazer and donned it before stepping out. With his elbow propped on the reception desk, Officer Maxwell acted like he had all the time in the world to chat with Betty.
“Officer Maxwell.”
He stood up straight and clutched his cap in hand.
“I hope this is a personal call today.”
He fiddled with the brim of his cap, and he didn’t have to answer. His face mirrored Colin’s guilty expression whenever she asked if he’d made his bed. “That would have been my preference, but this is another
official visit. I’ll try not to take up too much of your time. Is there somewhere we can talk?”
She glanced toward her office door. Not going in there with a half-eaten apple on her desk and empty boxes littering the room. A crash of thunder stopped her short of suggesting outside. She waved her arm toward the hallway. “The nice thing about a community center is you have your choice of rooms. I suggest we avoid the men’s and women’s locker rooms, though.”
He laughed, the fine crinkles at the corners of his eyes adding to his appeal. She stopped herself from blinking. Appeal? Yes, Officer Maxwell was attractive, but she could ill afford a second look in his direction with a center to turn around in six months and no time for a casual relationship. Even if the attraction happened to be mutual, she wasn’t optimistic. Her last three dates hadn’t gone well. Every time she’d found time to spare an evening away from her online courses and work, each guy escaped as soon as she brought up Colin.
Besides, she was only getting settled in Hollydale. Growing up in a small town, she hadn’t been able to conceal her pregnancy forever. The stares from some in her hometown once baggy sweaters or puffy coats no longer hid her baby bump from view were seared into her. Then again, those glares hadn’t been as bad as the whispers behind her back once she passed by. What else did you expect of Brooke with a mother like that? Those left a bitter taste in her mouth.
While the residents of Hollydale had been welcoming, she had little doubt everyone knew who was dating whom and every detail of the latest breakup. She didn’t want to experience those same types of whispers if another relationship drifted away in the wind.
Colin and Daisy and her job had to come before any type of romantic involvement. She wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize her son’s future, or her own.
“Where do you suggest we talk?”
“The art and music classroom is close.” She pointed that way.
