The Bad Boy of Butterfly Harbor

by Anna J. Stewart

  With the Pacific roaring beyond Lookout Point, Luke hitched Cash’s leash around a porch post and tried not to feel guilty when the dog let out a belabored sigh and plopped his butt down to wait.

  “Good morning, Sheriff.” Abby greeted him from behind the lobby counter with her usual ebullient smile. “Seems you made quite an impression at the town meeting last night. No battle scars, so I guess you survived.”

  “I did.” Prior to attending, Luke would rather have faced a firing squad than be paraded in front of the town residents again as the mayor’s new appointee, but he’d been pleasantly surprised by the warm welcome he’d received. Especially given how many of those in attendance had been around long enough to remember the Luke who used to live here. Not everyone clung to the past like a life preserver. “What’s going on, Abby? You having some problems out this way?”

  Abby shook her head. “Lori told me she’d called the station. You didn’t have to make a special trip out to investigate. I really don’t think it’s a big deal.”

  “Don’t think what’s a big deal?” Holly walked through the open set of double French doors with a steaming mug in her hands. It was then Luke noticed the small dark head perched behind the computer screen. Simon peeked around the edge, a satisfied gleam in his eyes as he typed.

  “Good morning, Holly.” Since he and Holly decided they should keep their distance, it seemed as if every time he turned around, there she was. Best laid plans... “Trespassers apparently,” Luke said. “Down at the cabins?”

  “It’s nothing new,” Abby insisted, then glanced at Simon. “No, see, right there. That’s what it’s been doing. Why won’t it accept that field for entry? Sorry.” She grimaced at Luke. “Computer gremlins, and this guy here is the only one who can find them.” Abby dropped a hand on Simon’s head. “I thought Fletch or Ozzy would come out. I didn’t expect the sheriff.”

  “Oz is working on our own computer issues,” Luke explained, “and Fletch had to go over to Mrs. Eddington’s. Someone broke into her garden shed overnight. So you’re stuck with me.” Truth be told, Luke had been glad for the opportunity to visit one of his favorite spots in town.

  “Well, I’d hate for you to have wasted a trip,” Abby said. “Holly, do me a favor and show Luke the cabins?”

  Holly swallowed, her eyes tearing as she fanned her mouth. “Me?”

  “You’re the one who doesn’t want me to leave someone alone with my computer,” Abby all but sang as she angled her eyes in Simon’s direction. “Lori said it’s the one by the back, just off the shoals.”

  “It’ll be quick,” Luke assured Holly. “After you.” He moved a step back for Holly to take the lead and tried not to take offense at the uncertainty blanketing her pretty face. He’d take it over apathy any day.

  Outside, Holly stopped at the foot of the stairs to give Cash a warmer greeting than she’d ever given Luke. Her yellow T-shirt hiked up and exposed a sliver of smooth back over snug jeans. Luke flipped his cap around to give himself something to focus on other than how Holly’s hair glistened in the morning sun, or how—

  “What?” she asked when she caught him staring at her.

  “Nothing.” But his mouth twitched as he headed down the path behind the inn, Holly the spitfire following at a distance.

  The sandy trail forked in three directions and led either to the beach or to the observation area or down the wooded, garden path, Luke remembered vividly. “The place is a lot more overgrown than I remember.” Luke bent down to examine the remnants of multiple footprints in the still damp earth and more than wind-tossed trash lying about. “Lori was right to call.”

  His ears roared. He remembered hiding in the thickets waiting to see if a cabin would go unclaimed for the night. For him, it was worth the risk of getting caught trespassing rather than face going home. An unlocked window or door on one of these pseudohomes was salvation, given the promise of a good night’s sleep.

  “Mr. Vartebetium stopped booking these for guests after his wife passed away.” Holly’s sandals slapped along the occasional stone. “Abby’s hoping to convince him to reopen them once and if business picks up. As of now, there are only a couple that are habitable and she’s living in one of them.” Holly moved ahead of him down the path and into the front yard of one of the cabins.

  “Even if they’re not using them, it can’t hurt to up the safety and security.” Luke followed her through one of the rickety, rusted swinging gates. Storybook-like and small, but serviceable, the buildings had real charm. It was a shame more of the cabins weren’t being used. “I’m in the process of making a list of recommended security items for residents, something Harvey can make sure to get in stock easily at the hardware store. Which one’s Abby’s?” He’d make it a point to double-check her doors and windows before heading back to the station.

  “The one over there.” Holly pointed to the left, but all he saw were thick shrubs and flowering plants. This area could do with a serious pruning, if for no other reason than to increase visibility. As Holly continued on, Luke could smell the faintest hint of roses drifting off her skin, and the scent mingled with the morning air.

  “Well, someone was definitely here.” He pushed a solitary finger against the door of the other cabin. It squeaked open. “Wait here for a minute, please.” Luke stepped inside and swallowed against the stale smell of alcohol, dirt and cigarettes the ATF would never have approved. A collection of sleeping bags was huddled against the far wall, as if their occupants had unexpectedly scrambled for freedom out the open window in the galley-style kitchen. Empty beer bottles and cans were strewn about, along with take-out food containers from fast-food restaurants and a pizza box from Zane’s, which was near the diner. Luke’s stomach soured as memory and sympathy slipped in, but not before he decided to pay the liquor stores in town a visit to nicely remind them selling to minors meant they could lose their licenses.

  He heard Holly step into the cabin and bit his tongue to reprimand her for ignoring his request to remain outside. Whoever had been in here was long gone. She’d be safe.

  “I’d say they’ve been squatting here for quite a while.” Luke nudged a worn backpack out from where it had been wedged into a corner and did a quick inventory of its contents, including a school ID and... His brows knitted as his hand brushed against something metal and solid. He read the ID. “Kyle Winters. Looks as if you and Simon may have been right about him.”

  Holly winced, her silence piquing his curiosity.

  “What?”

  “I didn’t want to say in front of Simon, but Kyle reminds me of you. How you were,” she added as if afraid of offending him, but it took more than the truth to offend him. “Bad home life. His father’s spent more time in the station’s holding cell than...” She broke off, shrugged. “Let’s say he’d give your father a run for his money in the criminal-charges department. Only difference is, Kyle’s mom is part of the problem. She bails Rex out every chance she gets, blames herself, blames Kyle. Pleads with the court, promises her husband will do better. They go to counseling, things are okay for a few weeks and then it starts over. It’s a cycle no one believes will ever end, but no one’s been willing to push back.”

  “Maybe it’s time someone did.” He dug deeper into the backpack.

  “Maybe.” Holly nodded. “And maybe you’re the right person to get through to him. To both of them. You might want to ask my dad— What’s Kyle doing with a gun?”

  Luke hefted the automatic in his hand. “Proving Simon right, it would seem.” Guns and troubled teens were never a good combination. At least the kid had left the safety on. Luke unloaded the clip and clicked the chambered bullet into his palm before he stuck the gun into the waistband of his pants and got to his feet. “Kids will do what they have to in order to feel safe.” In Luke’s case it had been a metal bat. “Especially if they’re feeling backed into a corner.”


  Holly locked her hand around his arm, the heat of her fingers practically branding him through his jacket. “I said he reminded me of you, Luke. Kyle’s not you.”

  “No, he’s not.” He took a step closer, struggling against the sympathy in her eyes, and found himself wishing she’d never let go. But the last thing he wanted, especially from Holly Campbell, was pity. “But that’s because I had your father to fight for me.”

  * * *

  “GIVE ME A couple of minutes and I’ll get those shakes ready for you,” Holly told Luke as they entered the Butterfly Diner. “Charlie, Simon’s waiting for you outside on his bike.”

  “Thanks!” Charlie scrambled off her stool and grabbed her backpack, a glittery butterfly keychain attached to the zipper glistening in the morning sun. “Mom, I’m going!”

  “Be back by lunch, please,” Paige said. “And be careful!”

  Holly and Luke both chuckled at the exaggerated eye roll Charlie gave her mother. “’Bye, Holly. Um, ’bye.” She skittered past Luke so quickly, Holly kept an eye on the little girl and Simon as they jumped on their bikes and rode off.

  “Cute kid,” Luke said.

  “She’s my new secret weapon,” Holly explained. “Keeps Simon out of trouble.” And helped Holly maintain her sanity. Simon’s attitude and proclivity toward mischief had diminished significantly since the little girl’s arrival.

  “Thanks again for advancing me the money so I could get her that bike,” Paige said, but her normally perky attitude had been displaced this morning. “It’s been a lifesaver. You must be Sheriff Saxon.” Paige swiped her hands on her apron before shaking his hand. “Paige Cooper.”

  “Another of Holly’s secret weapons?” Luke asked as Holly headed for the shake machine.

  “Something like that.” Paige ducked her head. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Holler if you need me.”

  “So.” Holly made quick business of the three mocha shakes Luke had requested. “The town meeting last night?”

  “You mean Mayor Hamilton’s one-man show?” Luke slid onto the stool Charlie had vacated. “I’m sorry, but I have got to ask. How did Gil get elected?”

  “Not with my help,” Holly muttered as she flipped the switch. She leaned a hip against the counter and crossed her arms. If anyone had told her a week ago she’d be having a normal, civilized conversation with Luke Saxon, she’d have called them crazy. “His opponent was Elliot Daniels. Remember him?”

  “Old Mr. Daniels who worked at the library?” Luke’s eyes went wide and his shock made Holly’s lips curl up. “He was ancient twelve years ago.”

  “And there’s your answer.” Holly doled out the shakes. “Voter turnout wasn’t exactly stellar, either. Gil’s name is familiar and the town does skew older. I have enough optimism left to think a lot of them wanted to give him a chance to prove he’s not as corrupt as his father.” She glanced over her shoulder. “You’ve met with him a couple of times. What do you think?”

  “I think I’m the wrong person to ask about someone’s father.”

  “I meant about Gil.” Holly sounded a touch disapproving.

  “I’m reserving judgment. For now,” Luke admitted. “Gil and I understand each other and he’s made a few promises I intend to hold him to. We’ll see if he keeps his word.”

  She brought the three paper cups over to the counter and slipped them into a carry bag as Luke pulled out his wallet. “Thanks for what you did up at the Flutterby. And for checking Abby’s cabin. I didn’t realize how vulnerable she was out there.”

  “A few locks aren’t going to solve everything. But it’s a start. What’s the diner’s special tonight?”

  “Meat loaf.”

  “Sounds good. Maybe I’ll see you then. Have a good day.”

  “Yeah.” Holly slipped the money into the register as he captured Cash’s leash and headed to the police station to deliver Ozzy his shake. Only now, as the diner fell into familiar dead silence, did Holly hear the uneven beating of her heart.

  She pressed trembling fingers against her throat. If she set aside the past and focused only on the man whom she’d spent the morning with, she’d have to agree Luke Saxon had grown up for the better. She liked this man. He’d been kind, a little standoffish, as if he expected someone—anyone—to take a swing at him at any time. But they’d managed a few jokes here and there and his sense of humor left her smiling even now. By the time they’d returned to the diner, she’d started to think maybe Luke was a rare exception to her cemented belief people couldn’t change.

  But there wasn’t any leaving the past alone. Not when it had cost her so much. Holly caught her lower lip between her teeth.

  Or was there?

  * * *

  “WHAT’S BEEN GOING ON?” Luke slid into the passenger seat of Fletch’s SUV and looked kitty-corner across the street to the dilapidated, pathetic community center. The maroon siding was peeling and most of the panes of glass had been busted out. The weathered roof looked about ready to collapse and there was a colorful explosion of graffiti and paint splatters along the front door and wall. Luke remembered when the center had been built, the sponsored activities from computer lessons for seniors, to woodworking classes, and book club meetings. He’d considered the center as a possible oasis, someplace where he’d be safe and could always go...except he’d never seized the courage to step inside.

  Luke handed over the second shake as a group of three boys sat with their backs to them on the brick patio wall, cigarettes burning and muted laughter mingling beneath the dull bass of an overstressed speaker system.

  “Thanks.” Fletch took a long drink. “Same old stuff as far as I can tell. They come and go. Same group of kids, really. A few older ones who didn’t make it off to college when they should have. Mostly hanging out, giving each other a hard time.”

  “Until they start migrating.” Luke shifted the backpack he’d found in the Flutterby guesthouse. “Give me your take on Kyle Winters.” Holly’s perspective had been helpful, but she didn’t see things from the law-enforcement angle.

  “Kyle?” Fletch echoed with a raised brow. “Smart, clever even. That’s him in the thick of things. Gray hoodie, spiked blond hair. Was doing pretty well until the Pizza Barn shut down late last year. He’s gotten into some scrapes the past few months. Couple of fights, caught loitering in abandoned buildings, drinking, smoking pot. Reminds me of someone. Can’t think who, though.”

  Luke didn’t have to look at his deputy to know the man had a smirk on his face. “Jake keep a file on him?”

  “Should be in the computer by now. Why?”

  “He’s one of the kids who’s been squatting at the Flutterby.” Luke nudged the abandoned backpack with his foot. “Left something behind when he took off this morning. I’m trying to get a bead on him before I return his belongings.” Maybe not all of his belongings.

  “You’d be best to determine that.” Fletch took another sip, frowned at his cup. “How did I not know Holly makes mocha shakes?”

  “They aren’t on the menu anymore.” Luke tried not to be too pleased by the fact Holly had made him one the second he’d hit town. Not that pleasing him had been her intention. Today’s had been served with a smile. Felt like a home run to him.

  “So you and Holly... Anything there?” Fletch asked too innocently.

  “No.” He’d thought about it, though. Far more frequently than he should. But Holly deserved better than a man with his baggage and defects. She deserved someone stable, someone normal, who could sleep through the night and not spend endless waking hours trying to avoid the nightmares of his past. Holly Campbell was entitled to be loved by someone who could give her everything she—and Simon—needed. And that, no matter how much he’d changed, wasn’t him. “Why?” Luke clenched his hands into fists. “You interested in Holly?”

  “Nah.�
�� Fletch’s snicker had Luke’s hands relaxing. “I was thinking it’s interesting how often she comes up in your conversations. She’s a knockout for sure. Never boring. Especially with Simon around. She’d be good for you.”

  And almost killing her father was that added bonus every girl dreamed of. “Did I mention I don’t like my deputies to moonlight as matchmakers?” Luke said.

  “You did not.” Fletch toasted him with his shake. “But noted. How about Abby...”

  “Dating anyone is the last thing on my mind.” But if his thoughts did turn in that direction, it wouldn’t be to a blue-eyed pixie, but a dark-haired, curvy single mother who had every reason in the world to despise him. Luke shifted forward and peered out the windshield. “Who’s that?”

  A dingy white rusted-out truck rumbled to a stop in front of the center. A middle-aged, blotchy-faced man with sun-bleached hair wearing a tattered black T-shirt and stained jeans shoved out of the cab and cut loose a stream of curses Luke had rarely heard, even during his time in the service.

  “Rex Winters.” Fletch set his cup into the holder and unbuckled his belt. “Kyle’s father. If he’s out from under his rock, this can’t be good.” He pushed open the door, but Luke grabbed his arm.

  “No. I’ll go. Stand by, though.” More than happy to handle this situation himself, Luke got out as a collection of teens scampered out of the way of Kyle’s barreling, bull-angry father. “Give Ozzy a heads-up.” Luke tapped his hand on the open window of the SUV. “We’re about to have our first resident in the drunk tank.”

  “Roger that.”

  If the appearance of Kyle’s father hadn’t sent Kyle’s friends scattering to the four winds, the sight of Luke heading their way finished them off as they hurried through plumes of cigarette smoke and dumped bottles into the overflowing trash bin.

  The sound of skin hitting skin had Luke struggling to maintain his control as he watched a palm-size red welt appear on the side of Kyle’s defiant face.