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Sidearms and Songbirds (Hearts of Nashville Book 3)

Page 9

by Amelia C. Adams


  Carly took it and read it over, her face grim. “Red roses and white tulips were our wedding flowers. And what does ‘Until next time’ mean? Is he coming back? Is he already back?” Her eyes flew to Sam’s. “Did he vandalize your house?”

  Sam’s thoughts had been running along those same lines. “I don’t know, but it seems likely. If he’s back in town, he’s definitely a suspect.”

  Carly ran a hand through her hair. “So, was this a phone order?”

  “That’s right. He could have called from across the country or across the street.”

  Carly sank onto the couch. “He’s insane. That’s the only explanation—why else would he be doing this?”

  Sam sat down next to her. Official visit or not, he needed to touch her, and he put his arm around her shoulders. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, Carly. I absolutely promise you that.”

  “Maybe it’s good that he’s trying something else—that makes more evidence against him, doesn’t it? Makes our case stronger?”

  “Yes, it does, and I called Meg on my way here and let her know. She says she’s there if you need anything.”

  “I need Mick to go away and leave me alone, but she’s already working on that.” Carly turned and offered Sam a watery smile. “So, what’s our next step?”

  “Our next step is taking our girls on a picnic. You’re not going to live in fear one second longer, Carly. Those dark days are over. We’re going to eat chicken and swing on the swings and feed the ducks. You’re going to have joy, both of you.”

  “Joy? That sounds wonderful.”

  “I think it’s going to look amazing on you.” He wanted to kiss her, but if he did that, he’d probably want to kiss her again, and he had some things to finish up before their picnic. “Why don’t I swing by and get you on the way to get Tillie, and we’ll all just head to the park from there?”

  “That sounds great. So, in about two hours?”

  “Yep. Two hours.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  “Neither can I.” He gave her shoulders another squeeze, then headed out the door. Yes, they’d be going on a picnic, but they were taking his patrol car, and he’d be armed the whole time. If Tillie or Sophie asked, he’d tell them he just hadn’t had time to change. Nothing was going to ruin this outing for them. They deserved to have some fun.

  Chapter Twelve

  Carly wasn’t at all surprised when Sam picked her up in his patrol car. She’d noticed one of the deputies driving past at least three times since Sam’s visit, and she’d sensed that this was more serious than Sam had led her to believe. Not that he was keeping anything from her—she knew he wouldn’t do that—but he seemed more upset than he’d let on. She was actually relieved to see the patrol car, and to see the pistol on his waist.

  “I’ve never ridden in a patrol car,” she said as she climbed in. “It’s nicer than I imagined—I thought they’d all smell like beer or something.”

  He laughed. “We try to keep our cars clean and in good repair. They last longer that way, and I couldn’t stand to drive around in a dirty car anyway.”

  “So, you’re not the kind who leaves dirty socks on the living room floor?”

  “No dirty socks. I do sometimes forget to fold the towels, though.” He reached over and took her hand. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. I’m angry, yes, but I’m fine. I might have mixed up some snickerdoodles to go with the cake. It gave me time to calm down a little bit.”

  “I love snickerdoodles.”

  “Then I chose right. I also made some extra for everyone down at the station—your deputies have been pretty diligent about keeping an eye on me.”

  “They’re good guys.” Sam backed out of her parking lot, and they headed down the street. “Are you going to tell Sophie anything?”

  “No. We don’t even know where Mick is, and she doesn’t need to carry that worry around with her. I’ll just remind her that she’s supposed to go inside if one of her teachers tells her to.”

  Sam nodded. “I agree. No sense in alarming her at this point. The deputies will keep up their patrol during recess, too. We’re not letting down our guard.”

  “Thank you.” She rested her hand on his arm. “I can’t figure it out—how did I get so lucky? I could have chosen half a dozen places to live when I moved to Tennessee, but I just happened to choose the one with the kindest, nicest, most wonderful chief of police ever.”

  “Oh, I don’t know if I’d call it luck,” Sam replied. “I think destiny plays a hand from time to time, don’t you?”

  “I have to agree. There’s not another explanation for it.”

  They pulled up at the school and went inside to pick up the girls, who were thrilled about the picnic. In just under ten minutes, they were at the city park, and Carly had spread out a plastic cloth on one of the tables and was laying out the food.

  “So, what are you doing tomorrow?” Sam asked, sitting down on one of the benches and folding his arms on the tabletop.

  “Housework and laundry—the usual Saturday stuff.”

  “Hmm. Me too. And what about Sunday?”

  “Church and naps. There are always naps on Sundays.” She sat down on the bench opposite him, keeping an eye on the girls over his shoulder. “Chief Bolton, are you asking me about my whereabouts because you want to spend time with me, or because you want to set up surveillance?”

  “How about both?” He didn’t look away from her pointed gaze, and she appreciated his honesty. “I’ve put out an APB on Mick—I don’t plan to contact him, but I want to know where he is. I’m also seeing if the phone company can pinpoint where he called from—he used a cell phone, and if they can triangulate which towers were used, we could get his location pretty precisely. Thing is, all this takes time. TV makes this stuff look almost automatic, but it’s not.”

  “I know you’re all doing your best, and it’ll get resolved sooner or later.” Carly put on a smile. Sam was working so hard for her—she wasn’t going to add to his burden by throwing her fears into the mix. “I see Deputy Anderson over there.”

  Sam nodded. “I might have mentioned that this park would be a good place for lunch breaks today. And there’s always the possibility that one of the deputies might so happen to worship at your same church, too.”

  She laughed. “All these coincidences. Hmm. If I didn’t know better, I might start to suspect something.”

  “Something like, we’re taking this seriously, and we’re determined to keep you safe. And also something like, I care about you a great deal, Carly, and this has become personal to me.”

  “I care about you too,” she replied, noticing how the afternoon sunlight made his tan seem a little darker. Was there anything about this man that wasn’t attractive? Okay, maybe in time the unfolded towels would get on her nerves, but for right now, he seemed just about perfect.

  The girls came running back from the playground saying they were hungry, and Carly took the lid off the bucket of chicken. Sam had chosen a great variety of pieces, and they all got exactly what they wanted before the girls scampered off again. Sam turned around and sat so he faced the playground, his back against the table as he chewed a snickerdoodle. “You know what—if it wasn’t for the fact that your crazy ex-husband’s trying to send you absurdly expensive flowers and my house was vandalized yesterday, I think I’d be pretty well content with life right now.”

  “Yeah? Why is that?” Carly sat down next to him, and he lazily draped his arm around her shoulders.

  “I’ve got a beautiful girl, a friend for my daughter, a killer cookie, a sunshiny day—how does it get better than this?”

  “How about, we both get up early and do all our chores, then spend the rest of the day watching movies and eating popcorn? We never did watch that movie I promised you—we fell asleep instead.”

  “A well-deserved nap, but yes, you do owe me a movie. Can we come over around one?”

  “One is perfect. Lunch or no lunch?”<
br />
  “We’ll eat before we come over, if that’s all right with you—Tillie and I have a Saturday tradition of French toast and bacon. It’s our thing.”

  “I totally understand.” Carly rested her head on his shoulder. “How long until one of the girls throws up? They’ve been on that merry-go-round forever now.”

  “Just as long as when they do throw up, they don’t do it in my nice clean patrol car.”

  “Speaking of cars, I wondered if I could ask you a favor. Will you go car shopping with me sometime next week? I got my first royalty check, and I can finally afford to replace my old clunker.”

  He grinned down at her. “Congratulations. Yes, I’d be more than happy to go with you. I’ve been worried about you, chugging around town in that old thing.”

  “Oh, come on. It hasn’t been that bad. It’s been a couple of months since it left me stranded anywhere.”

  “That may be, but the potential was always there. I have a buddy in the car business—I’ll introduce you. You’ll have to endure some corny jokes, but he’ll cut you a good deal.”

  ***

  Sam left his car in Carly’s driveway again that night, asking one of the deputies to swing by and give him and Tillie a ride home.

  “Why does Sophie’s mom need your car, Daddy?” Tillie asked as they rode home in Deputy Grant’s patrol vehicle.

  “It’s to make her house look safer,” Sam responded. He wondered if she’d follow that up with another question, but she seemed satisfied.

  “Sophie used to have bad dreams,” she confided. “But she told me she hasn’t had any bad dreams since she met me. Isn’t that great, Daddy?”

  “Really? Not any bad dreams?”

  Tillie shook her head. “She says having a best friend made her bad dreams go away. I love being a best friend, Daddy.”

  Sam cleared his throat and blinked a few times. That was a pretty strong testament to friendship right there if Tillie had helped chase away Sophie’s bad dreams.

  They went inside, Tillie changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed, and Sam tucked her in. Then he went downstairs and called his mom.

  “Hey, Mom,” he said when Gloria Bolton picked up. “How are you tonight?”

  “Well, I’d be a lot better if Phyllis Henderson hadn’t cheated at Bingo again. I don’t know how she does it, but she walks away with all the cash every single time. There are shenanigans in these old folks’ homes, Sam. Don’t ever doubt it.”

  He laughed. “It’s a retirement village, Mom, not an old folks’ home.”

  “Someone forgot to tell that to all the old folks living here.” She paused. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m good. Well, a little stressed—job-related stuff. You know how it goes. But Tillie’s great, and we’ve been talking about heading down to see you soon. Just gotta clear the schedule for a day.”

  “Yes, I know how it is. The chief of police never gets to take a day off.”

  “I get one once in a while. We’ll figure it out.”

  “Good. I miss seeing you. So, what’s up? You don’t usually call on a Friday night.”

  He grinned. “I need to have a reason?”

  “Spill it.”

  “Well, when we come down for our visit, what if we brought someone with us?”

  “Someone? What kind of someone?”

  “Someone who’s becoming very important to me, Mom. And she has a daughter exactly Tillie’s age, and they’re best friends.”

  “Oh, Sam. You have no idea . . .” She paused, and he could hear her sniffle. “You have no idea how hard I’ve prayed for this. You’ve done a beautiful job with Tillie and I’m so proud of you, but you’ve been alone far too long. You need someone in your life.”

  “I agree, Mom, and I think I’ve found her. Her name is Carly Wayne, and her daughter is Sophie. They—”

  “What? You’re dating Carly Wayne? The singer?”

  Sam startled at his mother’s exclamation. “Yeah, I am. You’ve heard of her?”

  “Son, I may be old, but I don’t live in an ice cave. I love that girl’s voice—I listen to her single all the time, and I’ve had her album on preorder for three weeks. I can’t believe you’re dating her!”

  “I actually didn’t know who she was at first,” Sam admitted. “But now I’m a big fan too.”

  “I should hope so!” Gloria laughed. “You bring her down as soon as you can, but if you take too long, I’ll hop on one of those senior citizen buses and come myself. Give that Tillie girl a hug from me.”

  “I will, Mom. Night.”

  Sam hung up, then went into his room and changed into some sweats. There were so many things that weren’t sitting right with him, things that had been buzzing around in the back of his head. He was still waiting to hear back on who owned the cars that had been picked up on the traffic cams during that time frame. Generating the list wasn’t a hard task, but he’d also asked his men to follow up with alibis for each one, and that’s what was taking so long. He wondered for a moment if the vandal had walked into the neighborhood rather than driven, but he couldn’t imagine that someone would walk down the street carrying over twelve dozen eggs. Well, they could, he supposed, but they’d want to get in and out of there in a hurry, and that kind of load would slow them down.

  He flipped off his light and lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. The vandal had known where the sensors were—or at least, was smart enough to figure it out. And he’d chosen a time of day when everyone was at work. He must have been studying Sam’s street for a little while to come up with all that information.

  Everyone was at work . . .

  Except Mrs. Stevens, who didn’t work, but she was out of town that weekend. She would have been sure to see what happened if it hadn’t happened while she was gone.

  He grabbed his phone and sent a quick text, forgetting to check the time first. Hey, Mrs. Stevens. How’s your trip going?

  She replied a few minutes later. Gracious, Chief, it’s after nine. Is everything all right?

  He chuckled, knowing he couldn’t answer that question honestly. What could he say? “I was just making sure that you weren’t murdered in your basement or anything because you’d be an excellent witness to a crime.” Yeah, that would comfort her. Instead, he replied, I didn’t realize it was so late. Everything’s fine. Just wondered how you were.

  We’re having a great visit.

  Good. I’ll see you when you get back.

  He put his phone away, feeling a little silly for his knee-jerk reaction, but those fine hairs on the back of his neck wouldn’t stop tingling. This vandalism hadn’t been the act of teenagers. It hadn’t been done impulsively. He now knew what he’d suspected—this had been planned very carefully, and the criminal had taken the window of opportunity created when Mrs. Stevens left town to carry it out.

  Carly had said she wondered if it was Mick. Sam was almost convinced of it now. And if Mick was for sure back in town, Carly and Sophie were in even more danger because Mick was upping his game.

  He grabbed his phone and called Deputy Anderson. “Where are you now?”

  “Pine and Third.”

  “Head over to Carly Wayne’s, please, and check it out. I’ll be there myself in about twenty minutes.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Then he sent a text to Carly. Hope you don’t mind. We’re having a slumber party.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Carly held the door open for Sam, who came into the house carrying a sleeping Tillie over his shoulder. She showed him to Sophie’s room, where he laid his daughter down on a pile of blankets Carly had arranged for her. Then he tiptoed out and joined Carly in the living room.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

  “I just got to thinking tonight and realized that I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone,” he replied. “Too many things are adding up to Mick being back in town, and I couldn’t sleep knowing that you were over here by yourself.”

/>   “How did you get here? Your car’s in my driveway.”

  “Officer Gray came and got us. You’d think my men would be tired of playing taxi for me, but they’ve been good about it.” Sam leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “We need to figure something out, Carly. I’m more than happy to hang out with you for the weekend—that’s what I wanted to do anyway—but come Monday, I’ll be back at work. I can still authorize cars to come around, but I can’t justify a full-on security detail unless you’re in immediate physical danger. Is there someplace you can go until we get this thing resolved?”

  Carly thought about it. She simply wouldn’t get her mother involved again. “Going back to Denver is out of the question,” she replied. “My mother can’t be put in the middle of this. I really don’t have anywhere. Maybe Julia could suggest something.”

  “That’s a good idea. She’s been a great resource for you. I even thought about sending you to stay with my mother—she’s a huge fan, by the way—but as fierce as she is, we’d better keep her out of it too.”

  “Your mother’s a fan?”

  “Sure is.”

  “You told your mom about me?” Carly couldn’t help the warmth that filled her chest at the thought.

  “Yeah, I did. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “No, I don’t mind at all. It means . . .”

  “It means I’m taking this seriously.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “It means I think we have a real shot here for something incredible.”

  “I think we do too.” Tingles raced up her arm at his touch. She loved this man—she was sure of it, even though conventional wisdom said she should be taking her time and getting to know him. She felt that she already knew everything that was important, and she’d come to know the rest later.

  He smiled, kissed her hand one more time, and stood up. “Do you have another blanket and pillow for the couch?”

  “Sure do. I’ll be right back.”

  She pulled what he needed from the hall linen closet and brought it out to the living room. “Thank you for being here tonight, Sam.”

 

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