Her Hometown Detective

by Elizabeth Mowers

  “Nah. Seemed to be a group of out-of-towners letting off too much steam. They were getting a little out of hand when I got there. I confiscated the firecrackers and sent them on their way.” Allison pulled a few peppermint sticks out of her breast pocket and handed them to Tully. “From your fan club.”

  Tully took the candy and dropped it into a cup of pencils on his desk.

  “Did you drive past Miss Jenkins’s place this morning?”

  “Yep. The walking club was there. Something about Miss Jenkins having to wait for a repairman.”

  “That’s right,” he said. He’d forgotten about the air-conditioning problem. He hadn’t thought of much else the night before with Faith Fitzpatrick’s kisses distracting him. “I told her I’d come take a look at it today if she needed help. I can swing by later when I check out the rest of the stores...” He crossed the office to check the call notes from the morning just as Charlie arrived. “No vandalism cases were logged last night. Did you respond to anything this morning?”

  “Nope.”

  Tully scratched his chin. “Maybe the vandal was a tourist and is heading home today.”

  “Could be,” Officer White said. “I saw a lot of unfamiliar faces at the fireworks. Caught a couple of guys slashing car tires too.”

  “What? Where was this?”

  “Outside The Bayshore Bar. Too much booze plus a scuffle in the parking lot ended with two guys, midthirties, slashing their supposed friend’s car tires.”

  “Did you arrest them?”

  “After backup arrived, the friend showed up and said he wouldn’t press charges. Couldn’t do anything but wait with them until they called for a ride.”

  “Who’d they call?”

  “A woman came to pick them up. I don’t know what her relationship was to them—girlfriend, wife, friend—but she didn’t look happy at having been called for chauffeur duty.”

  Tully drummed his fingers on the desk, contemplating. Two men in their midthirties slashing a friend’s tires after a drunken argument wasn’t quite the profile of someone vandalizing a series of stores.

  “Hey, what happened to you last night?” Charlie asked. Tully frowned and sipped his coffee. “Did you watch the fireworks from home?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Something like that?”

  “I had plans last night.”

  “Plans?”

  Tully scowled at his friend, aware of what he was doing. One technique to get more information from a tight-lipped suspect was to repeat the last thing they said as pleasantly as possible. Most people got uncomfortable with it and kept talking and divulging more information as a result.

  “I know what you’re doing.”

  “What I’m doing?” Charlie smiled mischievously.

  “You’re trying to get more information about my night with Faith.”

  “You spent the night with Faith?” His friend sat back on the edge of his desk. Even Officer White perked up at the new development. The technique really did work. Tully slammed his cup on his desk, surprising even himself.

  “Look, it wasn’t like that.”

  “No?” Charlie said. “What was it like?”

  “She wanted to watch for the guy responsible for all these break-ins. I came along for support.”

  “Hmm... What kind of support? I know Allie’s curious.”

  Allison waggled her brows as Tully’s eyes narrowed. He gathered his keys, ready to escape Charlie’s line of questioning.

  “It’s not a big deal. We sat on her roof and watched the fireworks and talked.”

  Dex arrived, looking noticeably more irritable than he usually did first thing in the morning.

  “Did I miss anything from last night?” he said. When he didn’t get an immediate answer, he glanced between the three of them as if reading the situation. “What’s going on?”

  Tully shot Charlie a don’t you dare say anything look, but that left Officer Allison to her own devices.

  “Well,” she began, “Tully and his lady friend had a date to the fireworks last night. It sounds like they were on some kind of stakeout.”

  “Lady friend?” Dex said in a harrumph. “Not Faith Talbert?”

  “Faith Fitzpatrick.” Tully eyed the doorway, but Dex had caught a blood scent and nothing could distract him now.

  “You’re not serious, are you? Tell me you went out last night with anyone but her.”

  “Take it easy, Dex,” Charlie said.

  “He’s the one who should be taking it easy. She’s been playing him like a fiddle ever since she arrived.” Dex pantomimed the fiddler from The Hometown Jamboree band, even stomping his foot for embellishment.

  “She’s innocent until proven guilty,” Tully said. “Or have you forgotten the presumption of innocence?”

  “Me? Have you forgotten how to be a detective? Motorcycle rides and dates to watch the fireworks? Oh, yeah. I heard all about that. Remind me again how you can be impartial with a woman who has been turning your head all week. I saw the way you were looking at her at The Gypsy Caravan when you should have been questioning what she was doing there in the first place. She nearly stomped all over the crime scene, and you let her. She’s been going around town questioning folks like she’s running your case. Did you know she talked to Ledger Callahan about the break-in? Wanted to know where he was when it happened, like the guy has to prove something to her. She actually questioned the guy about his whereabouts as he was trying to get his store door fixed.”

  Tully hadn’t known exactly how Faith’s interview with the Callahans had gone down and now wondered if Ledger’s defensiveness with him had been a direct result of Faith being too bold.

  Dex continued, “Rick Murdock swung by her place yesterday and found the whole situation fishy.”

  “So Rick Murdock is your new lead investigator, is he?” Tully said. “That’s rich.”

  “He brought up good points. The worst vandalism on the block happens to be at the store of the number one suspect?”

  Tully recalled CeCe’s prediction that Faith’s shop would be vandalized next.

  “She’s not the number one suspect,” Charlie said.

  “She should be. Tully says he was with her all last night?” He turned to Allison. “Did anyone call in a vandalism case today?” Allison shook her head, giving Dex more momentum. “That’s rather convenient, wouldn’t you say? Did our serial vandal decide to take the night off or what?”

  Charlie sauntered in front of Dex as if trying to break his glare. “Hey, anything could have made him go quiet for a night. There were more people out on the street last night because of the fireworks. He didn’t want to be seen.”

  Dex held up his hands in mock surrender. “If you say so, Charlie. I’m merely following the facts, like our detective usually does.”

  Tully struggled to hold his composure. He’d never been accused of not doing his job well. He was excellent at being a detective. It was probably the one thing in his life he was proudest of. So to have one of his colleagues, a colleague whom he had shared a mutual respect with for years, suddenly question his integrity...

  “Do you think I’ve compromised myself, Dex?”

  Dex snorted. “We all know you have. Even the people in this town have been talking about it. CeCe Takes came to me yesterday instead of you, because she thinks your judgment is impaired. I gotta tell you something, Tully. I never thought I’d see the day when anyone in Roseley accused you of being soft. You’re known for your wit and your unflinching... I don’t know.” Dex flapped a hand at the air. “I always thought of you as doing the right thing. Now I’m not so sure.”

  Tully couldn’t muster a response, a rebuttal, anything. He felt like he’d been socked in the gut—hard. It might not have been a two-punch knockout, but it was all he could do to stay standing on his feet.
<
br />   Charlie stood next to him. “If you’re questioning Tully’s integrity because he—”

  “I’m not the only one questioning it,” Dex said. “Get it? I’m relaying what other people are saying. In fact, they’ve been saying it for days now. Tully’s been too distracted to notice.”

  There was a long silence between the four of them, but it wasn’t a standoff. For Tully, it felt more like an intervention, a wake-up call. If there was one thing he valued, it was the fact that folks respected his judgment. If that was called into question or if they started to lose faith in him, where would that leave him? His job was everything. He was the job.

  Before Tully could respond, there was a buzz at the entrance door signaling a visitor. When it opened, it was the last person Tully had expected to see at the police station, and the one person he needed to stay as far away from as possible now.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  FAITH CAUGHT THE surprise in Tully’s expression as she walked across the room to meet him. The silence between, not only the two of them, but also the other police officers gawking nearby, expanded like a balloon. The hair on the back of her neck prickled as she became aware she’d stumbled into a conversation, possibly about her.

  It had been a tumultuous morning to say the least. After the blissful time she’d spent talking and cuddling with Tully last night, she’d spent the early morning hours occasionally pinching herself as she worked in her shop. He’d warned her to lock her door, not that it made much difference considering an intruder needed only to rip off the tarp to step into her store, but she’d heeded his advice. Instead of keeping an intruder at bay, it had been CeCe Takes who had attempted to open her front door.

  Once Faith had reluctantly stepped out onto the sidewalk, CeCe was all too happy to inform her that after doing a little surveillance of her own the night before, watching the street from behind her darkened windows, she hadn’t spotted anything all that suspicious. Faith had been pleased with the news, suggesting that the vandal had moved on, perhaps because he had been an out-of-towner gone home after the Fourth of July festivities. CeCe hadn’t agreed.

  “To an untrained eye, I suppose it looks like the worst has passed.”

  Faith wasn’t about to tell CeCe that she and Tully had been conducting their own surveillance of the street and that Tully’s trained eye hadn’t spotted anything. Maybe it was only the newest development between her and Tully coloring her outlook, but Faith really hoped the vandalism was over for good.

  “You didn’t spot anything suspicious?” Faith had asked. She was more curious about the fact that CeCe was so eager to share news with her.

  “It depends on how you define suspicious.”

  “Things that don’t belong,” she said. “Things that seem out of the ordinary or could lead to a crime. Take your pick, Mrs. Takes.”

  CeCe’s face had smoothed into a pleasant expression.

  “As a matter of fact, I did see something out of the ordinary.”

  “Oh?”

  “I saw a truck that looked familiar but was parked on the street where it isn’t usually.”

  “Uh-huh.” Faith had remained as stoic as possible, suddenly fully aware of the truck in question. “Why don’t you hurry down to the police station and tell them all about it, Mrs. Takes. I can’t help you with something like that.”

  “Nor can I help you, Ms. Talbert—”

  “Fitzpatrick.”

  CeCe grinned. “But there seems to be someone in town who is all too eager to help you, isn’t there?”

  Faith closed the door to her shop and pretended to work until CeCe had left the area. She knew CeCe had spotted Tully’s truck, either during the night or early in the morning. She might even know that it had stayed parked on the street near her shop all night long. She could sputter an explanation that they had been conducting a stakeout of their own, but CeCe wouldn’t care anything about that. She would tie Tully’s presence to no vandalism on the street and the lack of vandalism to her guilt.

  Faith had hurried to the police station to tell Tully what had happened, but once she’d arrived she suspected the damage had already been done.

  “Hey,” she said, as casually as she could manage. She hoped he would give her a sign that he was happy to see her or that he’d been thinking of her. He didn’t.

  “Ms. Fitzpatrick,” he nodded. “Nice to see you again.” His words had never sounded so cold before, nor had his expression felt so distant. He’d addressed her by her last name—the opposite of what her heart longed for.

  Officer Stillwater managed a warm smile, giving her some small hope that all was not lost. But at Tully’s downcast expression, deepening by the second, her jaw tightened. He worked a muscle in his jaw, highlighting something he needed to say but couldn’t.

  Officer Randall snorted and brushed by her, exiting through the door she’d just entered. She looked to Tully.

  “What are you doing here?” he finally said as the door slammed. Officers Stillwater and White redirected their attention to paperwork on their desks, though she knew they were still listening.

  “Can we go somewhere and talk?” she said. Tully shook his head.

  “I have a lot of work to do. Is it anything to do with the vandalism case?”

  A lump formed at the back of her throat.

  “I heard there weren’t new acts of vandalism last night.” He shuffled paperwork on his desk but said nothing, so she continued, “CeCe is drawing her own conclusions...” He’d been so attentive the past few days and now it seemed he wanted to look at anything but her.

  “I’ll keep an eye on that.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means, thanks for letting me know.”

  “Thanks for letting you know?” Faith took a step nearer, ducking her head to try to get in his line of sight. “Did you hear what I said?”

  “Yes, Ms. Fitzpatrick, I’m aware of how the situation—”

  “Ms. Fitzpatrick? The situation?” She laughed but it was only to keep from yelling...or crying. “Are we back to this? I’m Ms. Fitzpatrick to you again, new resident, shop owner, suspect number one? Is that it? Did the last few days mean nothing to you?” She lowered her voice. “Did last night mean nothing?”

  He carefully laid down the papers he’d gathered and faced her fully.

  “Last night was a lapse in judgment.”

  “What part exactly? The part where you bared your soul to me or the part where you kissed me like no man ever has before? Because I gotta tell you, John, I’m having a little trouble keeping up with this one-eighty you’re pulling.” Hot tears burned, but she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of their falling. Her only defense was to jump into the lion’s cage and wildly wield a weapon. Why cry when you could fight? “Look at me, dammit.”

  He did and his poker face was steadier than any she could imagine would be at a world championship game.

  “I wanted to help you last night,” he said. “But I realize now that that was a mistake. I have my job to do, a case to solve, and you have your shop to open.”

  “Are you saying that those things can’t coexist in a world where you and I spend time together romantically?”

  “To be clear—”

  “Oh, please be clear. You felt something for me last night, but I’m not worth the risk to your...what? Work? Ego?”

  “You’re a great woman but—”

  “Don’t let me down easy, John. I’m not the kind of woman who needs that.” It wasn’t true. She might be trying to steel herself against the fact that he was dumping her before they’d even really started dating, but inside she felt as fragile as porcelain. She pressed her lips together to keep her bottom one from shaking. She had already pictured a life where they could help each other and be exactly what the other needed. If she’d wanted to try love with anyone ever again, it had been with
John McTully.

  Instead, he was standing in front of her and saying he wanted to try for his job. “What a waste,” she said, swallowing the lump filling her throat. “I thought we made a pretty good team.”

  He brought his hands to his waist in a superhero pose, but he was anything but a hero to her now. He looked like a coward.

  “That’s the problem, Ms. Fitzpatrick. I work alone.”

  It was then that she realized the other officers had left the room. Even they couldn’t stand to watch what was quickly becoming the worst humiliation of her life. She’d run from this kind of rejection for her entire adult life, but the moment she’d let her guard down and entertained the possibility that Tully was different, that he would never treat her how the others did, she’d been gutted to the core.

  She’d known how foolish it had been to want him. It had been a pipe dream, wishful thinking at its most delusional core, to think that someone like him could fall for someone like her. He was Roseley royalty, and she’d been run out of town. He was admired by all, and she could count every friend and loved one she had on a single hand. He was honorable and good and desired, and she had married a man who hadn’t cared about her from the day they’d married.

  If the ground would open up and swallow her whole, she’d be eternally grateful and not just because she wanted to escape the embarrassment. He needed to stay on his disciplined, familiar track and couldn’t indulge in a relationship with her. She felt like a walking, cautionary tale to all young women who dreamed of something more, of something good, but overreached. He’d been the sun she’d flown too close to and he’d scorched her in an instant.

  “It’s Faith,” she snapped. “Faith who listened to you and cared about you and—” She couldn’t choke out the last words as it would hurt too much to admit her feelings and leave them unrequited in the open air. “Who still cares deeply about you. I counted on a lot of people in this town treating me like I was unworthy, but I never expected it from you. I’d give you everything if you asked, but all you’re doing is pushing me away, pushing us away.”

  She turned on her heels and marched out of the police station. She’d no sooner made it to her car when she heard a voice behind her. She spun, thinking Tully had realized his mistake and followed her, hurrying to swing her up into his arms. Unfortunately, it was Officer Randall’s chuckle that met her ears.