by Ava Miles
His rubbery legs obeyed him as he walked across the room. He reached for his land line phone, his ears buzzing. “If I gave into blackmail, I’d become every horrible thing you ever accused me of being. I won’t do that. You want to take it to the Feds, go ahead. I’ll tell my legal representative in Colorado, Bill Perkins, to expect a call.” He picked up the receiver.
She gasped. “You think I’m bluffing? What about Dustin?”
“I know you’re not bluffing.” His stomach churned at the though. “I’ll talk to my family and my lawyer. As for Dustin’s friend, he’ll have to stand on his own. You want to go after him, that’s your prerogative. I’ll protect my family and my interests. I won’t be blackmailed, Peg—not by what I told you in confidence or how I felt about you.”
His deliberate use of the past tense made her eyes narrow. “Oh, goodie, you’ve finally realized you don’t love me. I knew it all along.”
Her cruelty knew no bounds. It was time to put a stop to this. “You can believe whatever the fuck you want. Get out of my house.”
“I hate you!” She stalked to the door and turned, a sneer on her face. “I only wanted you for the sex anyway.”
She couldn’t have fired a more killing shot to his defenseless heart. His pulse slowed as all possibility of reconciliation vanished. “Then I hope you got your fill. I don’t do repeats, and I always learn from my mistakes.”
Her chin lifted. “Then we agree on something.”
The beating of his heart stopped. Emptiness spread throughout his body.
She left in a blur of motion.
His body fell back onto the bed, and he stared up at the blank ceiling.
It was over.
It never should have begun.
After all the lucky breaks he’d gotten in life, how could he have fallen in love with someone who despised everything he was? And then tried to blackmail him using what he felt for her?
He pushed himself into a sitting position. He couldn’t stay in Dare anymore. Not with her here. The town was too small, and he couldn’t bear to act distant when he ran into Keith. The boy wouldn’t understand.
He’d leave Cince here for the year to train Jill and handle the hotel when she went on maternity leave.
They could all move back to Arizona. Dustin would be thrilled, and Rhett had made it clear that he’d follow Abbie to the moon and back. Mac could work from there until it was time to create a new hotel. Perhaps in Jackson Hole this time.
He reached for the phone, but exhaustion overtook him. The call to his lawyer could wait a few minutes. Since Bill’s office was in Denver, he could drive up in the morning to be present when the Feds descended. He would call in his corporate legal team if it came to it.
God, the Feds.
He closed his eyes to stop the images of them swarming his hotel, Peggy accompanying them in her uniform, a sneer on her face.
The numbness he strove for wouldn’t come in all the way. Goddamn her.
His ears picked up the sonic boom coming from World of Warcraft. He’d forgotten all about Dustin and the movie.
He firmed his shoulder and headed downstairs.
Peggy might have killed his heart, but he still had a family, people who needed him.
He’d never neglect that—despite what she thought of him.
Chapter 38
Peggy was having trouble reading the Saturday edition of The Western Independent when something smacked her front door. She cocked her ear. It didn’t sound like a hand, but she went to investigate. Keith continued to watch cartoons in his animation–induced trance. She opened the door and realized what had made the sound—Arthur’s cane.
He rubbed his grizzled beard. “Hope you don’t mind me coming over unannounced.”
Did anyone ever say yes when asked that question? She felt like a drug dealer had tortured her all night after learning she was undercover. She probably didn’t look too hot either.
“No, of course not,” she lied. “Keith will be delighted. He’ll probably make you play checkers until your eyes roll back in your head.”
He huffed. “I hope not. When you’re my age, that usually means you’ve had a stroke or died.”
The urge to tug at her clothes was strong. She’d slept for maybe an hour before throwing on her police academy shorts and a T–shirt dotted with holes. Arthur looked pressed and polished in navy slacks and a white button–down shirt. Her clothes were a reminder of comfortable days, days when she hadn’t questioned who she was. After last night, she wasn’t sure she knew anymore. Regret had descended on her like a shroud as soon as she’d left Mac’s house and cooled down. Her attempt to blackmail him had been a new low. And it wasn’t something she could take back.
She was fighting a battle with herself over whether or not she wanted to know if David was playing in Mac’s tournament. She couldn’t pick up the phone and ask Tanner, though—not after last night.
Arthur tapped his cane, bringing her back to the present. “I’m here to see you actually. Can we talk somewhere?”
The ongoing electricity in her back surged. “Is anything wrong?”
His hand fell to her shoulder. “No one has died, but Jill’s holding something of a wake. I just came from the coffee shop. Let’s take this inside. My hip’s starting to bother me. Bursitis.”
Her muscles tensed. She let him pass while questions swirled in her mind. What had happened? Hadn’t enough shit gone down in her world in the last twenty–four hours?
“Mom! Who is it?”
“It’s Mr. Hale, but he needs to talk to Mommy. You keep watching your show. We’ll be in my office.”
Her gaze counted the stairs and then fell to his cane. “Ah, maybe we shouldn’t use my office.”
He growled. “Don’t insult me. I can handle a few stairs.”
Keith’s feet pounded across the floor as he came running. “Hey, Mr. Hale.” He gave him a careful hug, just like she’d taught him.
Arthur patted the boy’s head and then reached into his pocket for one of his ever–present red hots. “Here you go. Better get the checkers out. I’m going to beat you when I finish talking with your mom.”
Keith didn’t rip the candy from its wrapper as quickly as he usually did. He studied Arthur. “What’s the matter?”
Arthur winked. “Newspaper stuff. Your mom’s gonna be my source.”
His mouth popped open. “Cool. Is her name going to be in the paper?”
The look the veteran journalist gave her made her think of her first police captain. Something was so not right.
“She might be a confidential source—the best kind. Now, off with you. You might want to go practice for our game. It’s the only way you’re going to win.”
Keith rolled his eyes. “I’ve beaten you plenty of times.”
“Don’t remind me. Now, off with you. We’ll find you in a bit.”
Keith trudged off. Arthur’s cane tapped each stair as he slowly climbed to the second floor. Peggy held her hands out as she followed behind him, ready to swoop in if he stumbled.
He took a moment at the top of the steps. “I’d like to shoot whoever invented stairs.”
She was too nervous to reply, so she just showed him into her office. The board she’d taken out of the closet last night sat in the corner now. Her gut clenched. She darted over to cover it.
Arthur’s chuckle stopped her.
“Do you think I don’t know a police board when I see one? Mac’s a pretty photogenic fellow.”
Her hands clenched when he appeared beside her. The whole board had her back itching again. Looking at her collection now, all she could see was her shame. She’d treated Mac like a criminal—and he’d done nothing to deserve it. She was a horrible human being and a total failure as an officer. She’d tried to blackmail him with personal information to do something she wanted for her personal life. She’d broken every oath she’d ever made.
Even though her stomach burned, she firmed her shoulders. “What did you want to
discuss?” She couldn’t bring herself to utter Jill’s name. Her friend would hate her if she found out what she’d threatened to do. Hell, everyone one would.
“We made a deal a while back,” Arthur reminded her. “You said you’d give me the scoop if you found out anything about Mac.”
Her mouth dropped open. “What? I mean…I thought this had to do with Jill.” God, had Mac already told Jill what she’d threatened?
He gestured to her office chair. “Can I?”
“Please sit down.” The urge to pace made her root her feet in the carpet.
“Jill’s holding a wake at the coffee shop because Mac told her this morning that he and his family are moving back to Arizona this week, leaving Cince in charge with Jill as his deputy. Jill’s in tizzy—she thinks you must have broken his heart.”
Her own heart broke from the truth. How could she have broken his trust so horribly after all he’d done for her?
Arthur fingered his cane. “Mac assured her everything will be all right, but he wouldn’t tell her why he’s leaving. I figure it’s gotta be more than a broken heart. Mac wouldn’t make an about–face over something like that. He’s too much of a man. I figure you found out something to make him leave. I came over to follow through on our deal and find out what it is. I want to run it in tomorrow’s paper if I can confirm everything today.”
Shock rolled over her like fire through tumbleweed. “He’s leaving?” she said out loud. She couldn’t imagine not seeing him again.
Arthur’s bushy eyebrow winged up. “You didn’t know? Well, now, that makes this reporter mighty curious about what you did to drive him out.”
His frankness knocked her back a step. Drive. Him. Out. Then she looked at the board. She’d fallen under his spell as she’d looked for ways to destroy him. There weren’t enough bad words in the dictionary for her.
She pressed her hands to her face and spun around. “Arthur, I can’t talk…right now. Please. Go play…with Keith.”
Something clawed up her throat. Her nails dug into her palms.
The hand on her shoulder made her jump. Her eyes popped open to the sight of Arthur’s furrowed brow.
“Here now. I’ve comforted many women over the years. I know a distressed woman when I see one. Talk to an old man.”
Her lip started to tremble, years of reserve cracking. “No. I…can’t. Arthur, you’ve gotta leave me alone.”
He shook his head and reached to embrace her. She was too afraid of injuring him to push him away. His bony arms circled her. The pain, the shock, and the hurt all broke through the ice. She fell apart, a big ball of ugly cry.
His murmurs and pats were distant in her mind as her emotions swept through her, leaving her light–headed, stuffy, and sick to her stomach. When she couldn’t breathe through her congested nose, she pulled back. Arthur pressed a cloth handkerchief in her hand.
“Let it all out. You’ll feel better.”
She thought about Keith and prayed he couldn’t hear her over the TV. She didn’t want to scare him. He’d never ever seen her cry before—because she never did, not even after Frank had left.
Now she couldn’t stop.
When her forehead fell onto Arthur’s shoulder, he shifted his weight. Was she hurting his hip? She stepped away and wiped her nose.
“I’m mortified, Arthur. I never do this.”
His mouth twitched. “I know. You can always tell who the tough ones are. When they finally cry, they pretty much howl like the coyotes in the canyon. I’ve seen a lot of people cry. I can take it.”
“Please sit down,” she managed over the buzzing in her ears.
He did. Her body sank to the floor since she couldn’t stand upright anymore.
His elbows rested on his knees. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?”
Her hands pulled at her T–shirt, indecision overwhelming her. “I can’t tell you. You’ll have to report it.”
He pushed his glasses up his nose. “Why would you care if I report it?”
Her throat closed. “Because I don’t want to go through with it.”
Mac had kept his integrity all along. She’d thrown hers away last night.
“How about this?” Arthur continued. “I’m not a journalist right now. I’ll just be your grandpa for the day. You’re the same age as Jill and Mere. Talk to an old man. You’ll feel better.”
She sat Indian style and stared at her feet. Then the words tumbled out. Her throat hurt. Her voice was scratchy, but she kept talking. He nodded as she spoke, his somber blue eyes never leaving her face. He rolled forward until he could put his hand on her shoulder. She knuckled a shitload of tears away from her eyes. She was like a geyser in desperate need of a shut–off valve.
When she finally finished, she gripped her thighs and waited for condemnation.
Arthur patted her gently. “Families have a way of making all logic and common sense head for the hills. Some of my greatest misjudgments have come in my relationships. My wife would tell you stories if she were still here with us. I punched one of my best friends in the face when we were first married because he looked at my wife for a little too long in her new white dress and stockings. He’d always had a thing for her. It ruined our friendship.”
He sighed, long and deep. “There’s a lot of shit to wade through when you’re involved with someone, and as I told Brian when he was having trouble with Jill, when there’s shit in the way, you simply have to shovel harder and more often. The main question is the only one that ever matters. Do you love Mac?”
Her chest split apart as the woman inside broke free, holding her heart. The answer came through with more tears. “God. Yes. I just don’t know…” Her hand turned in an impatient gesture. “How.”
Arthur’s laugh huffed out. “No one really knows how. There’s a bunch of manuals out there, but there aren’t any secret, foolproof instructions for how to love the people in our lives. My wife didn’t like presents like the other women I knew. She also hated my long hours at the newspaper. She knew I had to make it a success, though, so she made a habit of packing up a picnic every day and bringing it to my office. We’d eat around five o’clock. Then I’d work for a few more hours. We found a rhythm. Loving is about listening, being together. You do that with Keith without even thinking about it.”
“It feels…weird with someone else,” she confessed.
His knobby fingers scratched his face. “Yes, that’s to be expected. Loving someone is an ongoing process since we all change. The weirdness you describe is only showing you that you’re growing in your mastery of it. When you get it right, nothing is more perfect.”
She thought of the moments with Mac when things had seemed perfect between them—easy. Suddenly, she knew exactly when she had fallen in love with him. It was that moment he had held the apple out and told her to shoot it. Racing across the yard into his arms had been the most perfect feeling in the world. She never would have gone to bed with him otherwise.
The enormity of what she’d done fell into her lap like punishing hail. “Mac hates me now. He’ll never forgive me.”
“You were trying to protect your brother and save him like you couldn’t save your father. You just took it further than most.” He set his cane on the floor and scooted closer. “Seems like a forgivable offense to me, particularly if he loves you. And he does. You can’t turn it off in a few hours.”
Hadn’t he decided to leave? He might still have feelings for her, but he was doing everything he could to break free of her. “I don’t know about that.”
His soft smile brought tears to her eyes. “Well then, now’s the perfect time to find out. I can’t tell you how many times I said ‘I’m sorry’ to my wife or her to me. You’re a brave woman, or you wouldn’t have chosen law enforcement. If you can put your life on the line, you can probably handle an apology.”
“But he’s leaving! How do I stop that?”
Arthur patted her on the shoulder and then stood. “You stop him anyway y
ou can.” His cane tapped the floor as he headed for the door. Then he looked over his shoulder. “I’ll give you a hint about men. When a woman tells a man she loves him for the first time, he’ll pretty much do anything for her if he loves her back. Mac loves you. Be honest with him. I think he’ll surprise you.”
“Yeah, he’ll surprise me by throwing me out of his hotel,” she muttered, fear strangling her throat.
Even his chuckle couldn’t make her smile. “I’ve always enjoyed covering the stories of people who handcuff themselves to a building for a sit–in, refusing to leave. There are all sorts of options, my dear, and you strike me as a resourceful woman. I’d be happy to spend the day with Keith if you’d like to execute your plan immediately. The sooner the better, I think.”
The door closed behind him.
The board of Mac mocked her, so she closed her eyes. She’d been making the wrong moves with Mac from the beginning. How could she fix that? Telling him she loved him didn’t seem enough. He’d told her he didn’t do repeats. Maybe Arthur was wrong. Telling him she loved him now might only make her look more stupid.
She felt like raising her hand as she had when she was in kindergarten, so she could ask her teacher what to do. She was in Love Kindergarten with no teacher in sight.
God, she felt so sick and bruised. She studied the board again, looking for an answer in the patterns like she would with a crime.
Something shifted inside her. She began to see a new line of information—one she’d missed or hadn’t wanted to see. The stories and pictures she’d cut out had little to do with him playing poker. In one, he was cutting the red ribbon to a new hotel with the mayor and a sea of people behind him. He wanted to be a part of the community. In another, he was giving away his prize money from a poker tournament to a women’s shelter. Yes, it had come from poker, but he’d used the money to help others and build things.
Mac was right. He was nothing like her father, she finally realized. Nothing like David.
He’d supported Abbie and Dustin, adjusting his own life and pursuits to be there for them no matter what. He trained people like Jill so they could become more successful. He made himself a part of the communities where he lived, learning people’s names and life stories. Hadn’t she seen how much he enjoyed talking to people in Dare, even after they’d approved his business plan? It hadn’t been an act. He genuinely cared about people.
