by Gina Wilkins
She gave a fleeting thought to her own appearance. She hadn’t had a chance to do more than run a brush through her hair, leaving it in the somewhat spiky style she’d favored before her makeover. There’d been no time for makeup, and she wore the same striped sweater and jeans she’d had on yesterday. Sometime during the morning she’d removed the bandage from her forehead. It had become annoying to her, and the shallow wound beneath it had healed enough that she didn’t think the bandage was necessary any longer. So here she sat, rumpled, bruised and unadorned—hardly at her best.
No wonder Dan’s attention was wholly focused on work at the moment.
Remembering the flash of tempers between them as they’d left Opal Stamps’s house earlier, she wondered if he was still annoyed by the exchange. She hadn’t given it much thought until now, since they’d always clashed quite vocally when it came to their jobs. She didn’t expect that to change just because she and Dan had become lovers. Surely he didn’t expect her to perform her work any less conscientiously just to please him.
“Dan?”
“Mmm?”
“Have I told you yet that last night was spectacular?”
That brought his attention abruptly back to her. He blinked a couple of times, seeming to grope for an appropriate answer. And then he just gave up and sighed. “You really enjoy catching me off guard like that, don’t you?”
She dimpled at him. “Yes.”
His expression softened a little, and he returned the smile with a slight one of his own. “Was I ignoring you?”
“Let’s just say I think we both need a little break from work.”
“You’re probably right. You need some rest. You, um, didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Neither did you,” she reminded him, studying the dark circles beneath his eyes.
“I’m not the one who was taken to a hospital emergency room just two days ago.”
“Don’t start fussing about that again. You know I’ve completely recovered from that incident.”
The look he gave her made her aware of every bruise she still bore from that “incident.” “Not quite completely.”
“I suppose I could use a little nap. Care to join me?”
He cleared his throat. “I, uh, have some things I really should be doing.”
It looked as though it was up to her to take the lead again, she thought with a wry shake of her head. Honestly, Dan was so skittish about their relationship that she couldn’t help mentally comparing him to an animal that had been abused. Convincing him to fully trust her was going to take both love and patience. Fortunately, when it came to Dan, she seemed to have a big supply of both.
She stood and slowly rounded the table, her gaze locked with his. “It’s Sunday afternoon. The arsonist you’ve been chasing is behind bars, your weekend officers are on duty, and most offices are closed until tomorrow morning. There’s nothing you need to do that can’t wait a few more hours—is there?”
To her very great satisfaction, he pushed his coffee mug aside, rose and jerked her into his arms. “No,” he muttered, his lips an inch away from hers. “There’s nothing that can’t wait. Except for this.”
He crushed her mouth beneath his. Lindsey stretched up to meet him more fully, locking her arms around his neck, pressing her soft body eagerly closer to his harder one.
As Dan swung her into his arms and headed for the bedroom, she held on in heady anticipation. She had no doubt that Dan was thinking now about nothing but her.
Lindsey was sitting on Dan’s couch, reading the Sunday edition of the state-wide newspaper, when someone knocked on the front door. She lowered the paper and frowned over it. Through the thin mobile home walls, she could hear the shower running behind her; Dan had just stepped into it. Her hair was still wet from her own shower. She’d donned her shirt, jeans and socks, but was wearing no makeup or shoes.
She was well aware of the impression someone could get from seeing her this way in his house.
She was tempted to ignore the knock and pretend no one was home. But Dan’s truck was sitting in the driveway, as was her car. It was obvious someone was here. Besides which, when someone knocked on Dan’s door, there was always a chance it could be a police emergency.
Hoping she’d be able to bluff her way through whatever resulted from her decision, she set the paper aside and rose to answer the door.
She knew when she identified the caller that bluffing was not going to be an option.
Riley took a moment to give her a slow once-over before speaking. “Hey, Linds.”
She curled her toes self-consciously in her socks. “Hey, Riley.”
“Dan home?”
“He’s, uh, in the shower.”
“I see.” Riley stuck his tongue in his cheek and glanced at her damp hair. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Of course not. I was just reading the newspaper. Come in.”
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
“You want some coffee? I just made a fresh pot.”
“No, thanks. Actually, I just stopped by to get an update on the arson investigation. My uncle is anxious to find out if Eddie Stamps has confessed to setting the fire that killed Truman Kellogg.”
Riley’s uncle, Bud O’Neal, had been one of Truman’s best friends. Another old friend, Stan Holt, had owned the insurance company that had been destroyed in the last fire. Nearly everyone in town had been affected in some way by the string of arsons, Lindsey thought sadly. Could Eddie really have been responsible for all that destruction?
She settled on the couch again while Riley sank into a chair nearby. “Eddie unequivocably denied having anything to do with the fire that killed Truman—or the one that destroyed the insurance company. Of course, as Dan pointed out, the two fires he disavowed are the ones with the most serious consequences.”
“I see. So…are you waiting to interview Dan after his shower?”
She gave him a chiding look. “I think you know very well I’m not here on business.”
“I was trying to give you a graceful out.”
“You mean you don’t have any acerbic comments to make?”
“No. Not about this.”
She was a bit surprised by the seriousness of his tone. “What do you mean?”
Notoriously wary about getting involved in other people’s personal affairs, Riley answered a bit reluctantly. “You know I’m very fond of both you and Dan. I’ve always admired the way you’ve been able to stay good friends despite your professional differences. I’d hate to see anything happen to change that.”
Typically candid with her friends, Lindsey said, “Look, Riley, you have to know I’ve been crazy about Dan for years. I just finally decided it was time to do something about it.”
“You decided? How does Dan feel about this?”
“You know Dan. He’s being very…cautious.”
“I’m glad to hear somebody is.”
Tilting her head, she studied him in bemusement. “It isn’t like you to be so pessimistic.”
The look he gave her in return was apologetic. “I suppose it could work out. But surely even you can see there are a lot of strikes against this relationship.”
“Such as?”
“He’s a lot older than you.”
“Ten years. It isn’t as if he’s twice my age.”
“He was burned very badly by the fiasco with Melanie. He’s still carrying a lot of baggage from that.”
“I know. I can deal with it.”
“And what about you? How do you know that what you’re feeling for Dan isn’t just left-over adolescent infatuation? Last I heard, you had big plans to move to a larger city to pursue your journalism career more ambitiously. You and I both know you’re too good to be writing local-interest stories for the Evening Star. How long do you think it will be before you start getting restless again? I think itchy was the word you used at the party the other night.”
Suddenly aware that the shower had stoppe
d running, and uncertain how long it had been off, Lindsey spoke a bit more softly. “I know what I feel for Dan, and it isn’t infatuation. I don’t think a high-profile reporting career is such a big sacrifice in comparison.”
Apparently Riley had offered all the advice and warnings he intended to give. He merely shrugged and said, “You know where to find me if you need me.”
While she wasn’t pleased with the lack of confidence in his tone, she was still touched by the sincerity of his offer. “I know. Thanks, Riley.”
“Yeah, well…good luck.”
It was obvious that he thought she was going to need all the luck she could get.
He stood. “You know, I think I’ll clear out now. I really just wanted an update on the arson case, but I can get that later.”
“There’s really no need for you to rush off. Dan should be out any minute.”
“Tell him I’ll call him later, okay?”
She followed him to the door. “Riley—”
He brushed her jaw with his knuckles. “See you later, Linds. And, needless to say, I won’t mention this to anyone.”
“I appreciate it.”
She closed the door behind him and sighed. And then she turned and gasped when she saw Dan standing in the doorway. “Oh. I—”
His expression gave nothing away. “Was that Riley?”
“Yes. He wanted an update on the arson case. He said he’ll call you later.”
“Okay. Do I smell coffee?”
“Yes, I just made some.” Had he overheard any of her conversation with Riley? She couldn’t read a thing in his expression.
“Let’s have a sandwich or something, and then I’d like to run by the station again. There are a few things I need to do there.”
She nodded and followed him into the kitchen, telling herself she must be just imagining that a new barrier had just gone up between herself and Dan.
Chapter Thirteen
“Dan, you have a call on line two. It’s B. J. Gray.”
Dan frowned at the intercom on his desk before he responded, “Thanks, Hazel.”
It was with some reluctance that he picked up the receiver. Two weeks had passed since he and Lindsey had become lovers, and this was the first time he’d spoken to her brother since. He couldn’t help but feel awkward. “Hi, B.J. How’s it going?”
“I’m doing well. How about you? Any new developments in the arson case?”
“Yeah. We caught our firebug last week.”
“No kidding. Anyone I know?”
“It’s Merle and Opal Stamps’s son, Eddie. He’s eighteen. A senior in high school.”
“A high school kid caused all that damage?” B.J. sounded stunned.
“And managed to elude us for almost six months,” Dan agreed grimly.
“Have you got a confession?”
“He’s going for a plea bargain. He’s confessing to all but two of the fires. Says he had nothing to do with the one at Truman Kellogg’s fishing cabin. Since we have no evidence that he was involved in that one—not even proof that it actually was arson—there’s really no way we can pin it on Eddie. At this the cause of that fire is listed as undetermined.”
“You mean the Stamps kid might get away with murder?”
“Negligent homicide, possibly. But there’s nothing I can do about it, B.J. I made the arrest. Now it’s up to the courts. He should get a fairly tough punishment for the fires he’s admitting to—along with some intensive counseling, I hope—but he won’t do time for Kellogg’s death unless more evidence turns up. And frankly I’m not expecting that to happen.”
“Well, at least the kid won’t be setting any more fires. That’s got to be a load off your shoulders.”
“It’s a relief to everyone. We’ve all been getting tense, wondering when he was going to strike again, hoping no one else would be hurt.”
“So, have you seen my sister lately? I’ve been trying to reach her for a couple of weeks, but we keep missing each other. Except for a few short e-mails, I’ve barely heard from her since I was home last.”
Dan glanced at yesterday’s newspaper, which was spread out on his desk. The front page bore an article with Lindsey’s byline—an excellent, in-depth interview with students and teachers who knew Eddie Stamps from school. Below that was another story she’d written—full coverage of an Edstown High School beauty pageant.
Inside the Evening Star were articles about local kids who’d been named “citizens of the month” at the elementary and middle schools, an interview with the mayor about a community effort to get a new traffic light on Elm Street, coverage of the grand opening of a new video store, and a whimsical little piece about the old gentleman who’d been a crossing guard in front of the elementary school for more than twenty years. Lindsey had written most of those articles, leaving coverage of local ball games, fishing tournaments and city council meetings for Riley, and recipes and household hints for Ella Painter, a retired home economics teacher.
“Lindsey’s been pretty busy lately,” he said to B.J. “Always chasing stories for the paper.”
B.J. chuckled. “I still have the paper mailed to me, just to keep abreast of Edstown gossip. Lindsey pretty much writes the whole thing, doesn’t she?”
“Pretty much.”
“I will say that the quality of the paper has gone up considerably since Cameron North took over as managing editor. He gives the staff a lot more freedom to cover the news than Marvin did.”
“Yeah. Marvin was always afraid of making waves or ticking off someone influential. Cameron says he’s putting out a newspaper, not a piece of PR fluff.”
“I know Lindsey’s much happier working for him than she was Marvin. Still, has she said any more to you about getting a job in a bigger city?”
“Not lately.” Dan folded the paper and set it aside. “I’ve told her several times that her talents are underutilized here. She could work anywhere she wants.”
“Yeah, I’ve told her the same thing. Of course, being the overprotective big brother that I am, I rather like having her there in Edstown where I know she’s safe and sheltered from the big, bad world. And she has you there to watch out for her in my place.”
Dan grimaced. “I’m not a baby-sitter, B.J. And Lindsey doesn’t need one.”
“I know.” His friend sounded rueful. “She tells me often enough that I’ve got to stop treating her like a kid. She’s closer to thirty than twenty now, she’s always reminding me. But, you know how it is. I still think of her as my little sister.”
Dan swallowed.
“Oh, hell,” B.J. said after a moment. “I just want her to be happy. If that means she should move to a bigger city, then I’ll give her my full encouragement.”
“I’m sure she appreciates your support.”
“So, you’ve seen her lately?”
“Oh, sure. I see her often.”
“And she looks well to you? She’s really doing okay since Dad died?”
“She’s fine. Looks great. And she seems happy.”
“Good. You would tell me if there was any reason to be concerned.”
Dan rubbed his forehead, which was beginning to ache dully. “Yeah. Of course I would.”
“Is she dating anyone? Surely she isn’t working all the time.”
Dan had probably been more uncomfortably self-conscious at some point in the past couple of years—but not that he could remember. “I doubt that she would appreciate us gossiping about her behind her back.”
B.J. laughed. “You’re probably right. I imagine she’d tear a strip or two off my hide if she thought I was checking up on her. And she’d be especially mad about me asking you about her social life, considering the giant crush she once had on you.”
This was the third person in the past month to refer to Lindsey’s girlhood infatuation. First Marjorie, then Riley—in a conversation Dan had accidentally overheard—and now B.J.
“Since both of us have reason to be wary of Lindsey’s temper, we’d bett
er change the subject,” he said, attempting to inject a note of humor in his voice. “How are things in—where the hell are you these days?”
“I’m in Seoul at the moment. I’ll probably be here another six weeks or so, and then maybe I can get home for a visit.”
Six weeks. As B.J. chattered on about his recent activities, Dan wondered what would be going on between him and Lindsey in six weeks. Would their affair be over by then or still hovering in this tentative limbo? It might be that B.J. would never even know about it—which would suit Dan just fine if things didn’t work out. It would be bad enough to lose Lindsey. Ruining his longtime friendship with B.J. would be almost, if not quite, as devastating.
Dan was driving Lindsey crazy. Not a new development—he’d been doing so for years—but this was different. He should certainly know how she felt about him by now, but his feelings about her were more of a mystery than ever.
At his suggestion they were extremely discreet about the new direction their relationship had taken. In public they acted no differently toward each other than they ever had. She doubted that anyone—with the exception of Riley, of course—could tell that she and Dan had become lovers.
He said they deserved privacy during these early stages of their romance. They were both aware that if word got out about them, everyone they knew would be watching them, speculating and making comments. Lindsey could see Dan’s point—and yet sometimes she wanted very badly to shout from the rooftops that she was in love and deliriously happy. She’d have been perfectly content to run a front-page story about it with a banner headline—but if Dan wanted discretion, she could be patient. For now.
