by Liz Talley
All the more reason to keep his vow when it came to Scarlet. Even if it were the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.
Adam reversed the cruiser out of the drive, and headed toward the station. He needed to add a notation to the file he kept on Harvey and it would be best to stick one in Scarlet’s, too. He’d learned early on that documentation was the best protection for a policeman. That and a bulletproof vest, of course.
When he got to the station, it was stifling hot. One of the former chief’s rules—turn the thermostat way up after hours as to not waste taxpayers’ money. Adam didn’t want to waste money, but neither did he want to sweat his balls off while he tried to work. He tapped the thermostat down and grabbed the files from Roz’s cabinet.
His office was painfully clean—the way he liked it. But the order made the fact the desk drawer was open well over an inch stand out as though it was under a spotlight.
He jerked the drawer open and plunged his hand toward the back.
Shit.
The tape was gone.
He yanked the drawer open as far as it would go, exposing the well-ordered contents. Stapler. Sticky notes. Pencils. Pens. Blank sheet of paper folded over…nothing.
Son of a bitch.
Adam closed the drawer and looked around.
Who?
Wasn’t Roz. She wouldn’t even inch a toe inside his office. And Jared seemed too damn lazy. Roy Killough was nosy enough, but also respectful of Adam’s rank. The other officer, Ian Fox, was new and eager to please. No way he’d be caught shuffling through his chief’s desk. So who?
Harvey’s image appeared.
The old man had balls enough to pull it off, but Adam’s desk had been locked. And while Primm had been accused of getting information in unorthodox ways, Adam couldn’t quite see him resorting to jimmying locks. Of course, Adam had once caught him going through Emile Prothro’s trash the morning after the man had complained about the article on the pesticides sold to the local farmers’ co-op. A man who resorted to that behavior would be the type to carry picks. And really, it wasn’t hard to pick a desk lock. Harvey could have stopped by this afternoon while Adam was at lunch. Probably told Roz he’d wait in the chief’s office. Broke in, took the tape, then said he’d come back later. Roz wouldn’t have suspected a thing.
Adam sat. He’d be willing to bet the old geezer had the equipment needed to view the 8-mm tape. Adam rubbed a hand over his face. How had he screwed this up so badly?
One little kiss.
It had been good. Very good. But had it been worth risking his career? One whiff of his misconduct and the press would have a field day. With balloons, hot dogs and a dunk-the-police-chief booth. He was screwed.
Of course, Harvey might not have swiped the tape. But Adam couldn’t think of a better suspect. Hell. How had everything gotten so complicated? Of course, he knew the answer to that question. It had been the day Scarlet had blown through the Welcome to Oak Stand sign and plowed straight through his certainty of who his woman should be.
Now his one indiscretion as police chief was out there, floating around in someone’s hands.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SCARLET WAVED HER ARMS. “Cut!”
Juan frowned. “What? I said it right that time.”
“But this is a tender moment. You’ve learned your grandmother, the dear woman who tucked you in your bed and told you lovely fairy tales, is the Magpie. Her spirit inhabits the bird and is guiding you in the quest for the jewel. We need more emotion. How do you feel? Imagine it is your grandmother,” Scarlet said, stomping up the steps and stepping across the masking-tape-lines stage of the Oak Stand auditorium.
“Yo, my abuela smoked unfiltered Camel cigarettes and ran a gas station. She was too damned tired to tuck me in,” Juan muttered.
Tito snickered. “My abuela was a hooker.”
Scarlet snapped her fingers. “Focus. This is acting. Feel free to pretend your grandmother is a freaking fairy godmother. Summon tenderness.”
Miguel II raised his eyebrows. “Tenderness is for pussies. I’m hard. Wanna come check me out?”
Scarlet whirled around and stabbed a finger at Miguel I and II. “Okay, busters, I’m tired of all the sexual innuendos. You’re not clever. You’re not sexy. And I don’t want to have sex with either of you.”
“Damn, dude. She smoked your ass,” one of the guys said.
Scarlet blinked. “I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, but what you’re doing is considered harassment. This center is preparing you for the world, a different world than the one you’ve been living in. Women are people. They are colleagues. They are bosses. You cannot make those types of comments and not expect to be reprimanded or sacked for it. Mind your tongue and put the brakes on your sexist comments.”
Silence fell. Miguel I looked, dare she say it, ashamed.
“Now, get your asses up here and let’s get this scene right.”
“I hope I get a boss like her,” Marco said, trudging across the stage.
Scarlet closed her eyes and counted to ten.
“What, gringita? I hope I get a hard-ass like you. You want it right. Perfect. I used to work at Subway for this dude who spent all day in the john, looking at porn. He blamed me and the other girl every time something went wrong. I hated working there.”
She smiled. “Okay. Just so you mean it in that way.”
Marco shrugged. “Whatever. Let’s do this scene.”
“Places.” She pointed out marks as Aunt Frances appeared stage right. “Okay, let’s run it. Action!”
The guys started going through the motions of the scene without any real enthusiasm, so she stepped over to her aunt. “Thanks for asking the principal to allow us to use the auditorium. It really makes a difference.”
Aunt Frances patted the curve of her hair and delivered a secretive smile. “I know how to get what I want from a man.”
Scarlet arched an eyebrow. “I bet you do.”
“He owed me a favor. Besides, he thinks it will be a good thing for the community. He was opposed to the book at first…until he read it. Now he doesn’t want others to do what he did—make a snap judgment.”
“Funny how people make assumptions without really knowing what lies beneath. Facades. We’re surrounded by them.”
“We all wear them, don’t we? Me. You. Especially you.”
“Because I’m an actress?”
“Mmm.” Aunt Frances watched the guys on the stage pull on the curtains. “You boys stop messing with those curtains. Do you have any idea how much those things cost?”
The former gang members straightened as if a drill sergeant had stepped on deck. It made Scarlet smile. Something she hadn’t done since Adam had left her several nights ago. Thoughts of John, Adam and her career swirled around and around in her head. It all felt so heavy. The play. The probation. The fact Stefan hadn’t answered her phone calls.
“Yo, can we go now?” Marco called. “We’ve done it eight times today. How many more run-throughs do we need? If Miguel don’t get his shit together and learn his lines, we’re gonna look like a bunch of—”
“Watch your language,” Aunt Frances said.
“Yes, ma’am.” Marco said. Miguel II’s response was to flip his fellow actor the bird. Marco reciprocated.
“Okay, enough,” Scarlet called, moving onto the stage. “We need to adjust some lighting. Stand in your places for scene two.”
The guys dragged their feet and stood at their marks so Scarlet could make notes on the clipboard she carried with her. This time the clipboard served a purpose. She scratched a few instructions for the high-school kid who ran the light-and-sound booth. “Okay. Practice tomorrow at nine o’clock. Now, get out of here.”
Her actors dispersed, their goodbyes moderately more polite than in the past. Aunt Frances drew the curtains into place, turned off backstage lights, then disappeared into the dressing room. Darkness descended, broken by the exit signs. Scarlet sank onto one of the auditorium seats a
nd allowed her sigh to fill the space.
Hmm. Good acoustics.
Scarlet pulled the cell phone Adam had insisted she carry from her pocket and stared at the message icon. She had one message.
John.
She pressed the button, opening the screen where his voice mail sat awaiting one little tap of her finger. Before she could think too much about it, she pressed Delete. She didn’t want to talk to him anymore, not after what had occurred between her and Adam in the backyard. Something had changed her as she stood not quite in Adam’s embrace. It was as if the very meaning of the bed-and-breakfast had taken hold of her. Finding things where least expected.
Adam had wiped her clean and she was a blank slate, awaiting a new story.
So why would she want to hear what John had to say? There had been days upon days for him to say something about why he’d chosen to end their relationship. But he hadn’t bothered. He’d refused her calls and turned away from her when she’d seen him at a premiere, giving no other explanation than “It’s over.”
Scarlet shook her head, as frustrated now as she’d been over a year ago. He didn’t deserve her acknowledgment.
She shoved the phone into her pocket as someone sat down beside her. “You’ve got your work cut out for you, chickadee.”
“Ugh, stop scaring me like that, Aunt Frances.”
“CIA, remember?”
“But do you really have to sneak up on people? Wear a charm bracelet or something.”
“I recognize that little wrinkle in your forehead. You were deep in thought, staring at that phone of yours. What’s got you upset? The play?”
“Nah, I don’t expect perfection. Just something passable.”
Aunt Frances smiled. At least what seemed to be a smile. Could have been a grimace. It was dim. “That doesn’t sound like you. Passable? Ho-hum? Not my Sum—Scarlet.”
“I can’t make them care. It’s not important to these guys.”
“So make it important. Give them a stake in it. Do they know how the town feels about the book? It’s pretty much the way the town felt about the center and Rick when Phoenix was being built.”
“What do you mean?”
“Many folks around here didn’t want the rehabilitation center near our town. Terms like thieves and lowlifes were tossed around. They sure changed their tune when those fellows showed up to help rebuild the community after the tornado. Rick and his ex-gang members were a godsend. So compare The Magpie’s Jewel to the center. Let them create a platform about judging a book by its cover.”
Scarlet studied her aunt’s hands as they tapped a tune on the wooden arm of the chair. “You’re pretty damn smart.”
Her aunt smiled. “Yes, darling, you get it from me.”
“Well, not my smarts. My sass maybe. When it comes to some things, I’m as dumb as a…as a…”
“Post? Brick? Sick camel?” Aunt Fran said.
“Sick camels are dumb?”
“Got carried away.”
For a moment, they sat in silence.
“Can I ask you something, Aunt Fran?”
“Shoot.”
“What do you think of Adam Hinton?”
“The chief?”
“Yeah.”
Her aunt gave her a piercing look. “Why do you ask?”
“I don’t really know much about him. Like how he ended up in Oak Stand.”
Aunt Frances seemed to be digging around in Scarlet’s psyche with that gaze. Scarlet hated when she did that. Hated more the thought of what she might uncover. “You’re not trying to get dirt on him or something, are you? He’s a good man.”
“You know me better than that,” Scarlet said. “I don’t have a grudge. I like him.”
“As in like him like him?”
She didn’t want to answer. So she didn’t.
“The council hired him out of a pool of applicants. They were smart for once and brought in someone from the outside. Let’s face it, Dan Drummond was a good ol’ boy and some changes needed to be made.”
Scarlet had deduced as much. But she wanted to know about Adam. Who was he? Where had he come from? And why had he chosen Oak Stand?
“He’s divorced. I got that tidbit from Roz. She says his ex-wife calls every now and again, which makes Adam grumpy.”
Scarlet almost blinked. Now, that was something she’d not known. His words about making something work, building a relationship on sand, came back to her.
“Roz also said his family is loaded to the gills with old money. His mother came to town a few months back, wearing fancy clothes and driving a Jaguar, but Adam certainly doesn’t act as if he’s wealthy. He lives in a small house and the only expensive thing I’ve seen is his classic Corvette.”
“Old money, huh? I’m surprised girls aren’t lining up.”
“Oh, they have. Don’t think for a minute there aren’t some mamas around town pushing their daughters toward the good chief. In fact, the mayor’s daughter has a date with him for the picnic Monday.”
Pain struck her hard and low. Adam had a date? Monday? She hoped her aunt couldn’t see her shock. Her hurt. She swallowed. “Oh.”
But Aunt Frances was like a hound dog on a scent. “Oh?”
“Don’t say it like that. I have a little crush. No big deal.” So what if Aunt Frances knew she had a thing for the chief?
“That’s not like you, either. Accepting defeat?”
“I’m not accepting defeat.” Scarlet felt the sting of irritation. She wasn’t giving up. She didn’t have a chance to begin with, no matter what they’d done, or not done, in the shadows of Mr. Hines’s maple tree. “I can’t mix it up with him anyhow. It would be misconduct.”
“Why?”
“Because. I’m under his jurisdiction for my community service. He can’t risk his career for a little horizontal mambo with the trashy actress.”
“That’s how you see yourself? And is that all you want from him?”
Scarlet deflated. “I don’t know what I want. Everything feels so backward. My professional life is going gangbusters but my personal life is sucking…is sucking…”
“I’m not going to touch that one.”
At that Scarlet smiled. “Yeah, I’d let it go, too.”
Aunt Frances pushed a strand of hair behind Scarlet’s ear. “Listen, baby, life ain’t no fairy tale, no matter what you read in a book. It knocks you around sometimes and just plain hurts. Sometimes a girl can’t wait on a guy to rescue her.”
“That’s the last thing I need, Aunt Fran. I don’t want a guy who thinks he has to save me…even if it’s from myself.” Her thoughts flitted to John. Was that what had happened? Had she relied on John to save her? To guide her career? To give her direction at a time when she lacked her own game plan? Maybe he’d seen the writing on the wall and abandoned ship. “I’m not looking for a knight on a white horse, or in a police cruiser.”
“That’s not what I meant, child. I meant, sometimes a girl has to go after what she wants. Some men are worth that. Your uncle Travis was, and the good Lord knows I had to make him sit up and take notice. I actually had to ask the man out myself.”
Scarlet smiled at the thought of her aunt giving chase to the quiet, humble man who’d planted blueberry bushes on the property line of the elementary school so the kids could eat the berries at recess. It had pissed the teachers off…and a couple of mothers who couldn’t get the stains out of their kids’ clothes. Uncle Trav hadn’t thought of anything other than pleasing the kids of Oak Stand Elementary. It was Scarlet’s favorite Uncle Travis tale. Oblivious. That was what her aunt had always called him. “That man didn’t stand a chance.”
“You are more like me than you know. I’m thinking you need to go to that picnic.”
Scarlet didn’t answer. She hadn’t planned to attend the town’s annual event, but the thought of Adam with another girl messed with her intent. She could see Sophie. Probably blond hair, cut in a shoulder-length bob. Blue eyes. Rounded cheeks. She probab
ly smiled a lot and knew how to tell homemade cookies from store-bought ones. She would wear a floaty skirt and a demure top, spread out a patchwork quilt her grandmother made and set the chicken she’d fried that morning on a platter in the center. Sophie would laugh at all of Adam’s dorky jokes.
Scarlet hated her already.
“Sophie’s a sweetheart. Teaches at Oak Stand Elementary and has such a way with kids. She’s perfect for Adam. Already half in love with him.”
She knew what her aunt was doing, but couldn’t stop herself from falling in the trap. “Really? Half in love with him?”
“Uh-huh. If it were me, I’d do whatever it took to step over Sophie’s broken body to get to that man.”
Scarlet didn’t respond. The spring of hurt gushing from her heart had joined forces with jealousy and was mixing it up with anger. She and Adam had had phone sex, or whatever the hell it was. The man had virtually screwed her with his eyes, and now he was going out with some paragon of virtue? What the hell?
“If you’re merely interested in the horizontal mambo, you might as well leave him to the girl. He’d probably be perfectly happy with milquetoast. He seems to look for that in everything he does. Like he’s afraid to color his life too much.”
Hmm. That seemed to be true. Everything about the man was discreet, neat and orderly. No bright colors. No coloring outside the lines. No mess. Yet, she sensed he’d so enjoy the wind in his hair, blasting Metallica on the radio and sex on the hood of his Corvette.
“You know what color would look good on that man?”
She turned to her aunt and lifted an eyebrow, à la Bette Davis. “What?”
“Scarlet.”
ADAM FIDDLED WITH THE CORD of the telephone on the wall of his kitchen. It had been a while since he’d had a phone with a cord. The retro style suited him fine, even if it did mean staying in the one room while talking on it. “No, Mom. I appreciate your wanting to come to Oak Stand for the picnic, but it’s not necessary. I actually have a date with a nice, acceptable girl.”
