“I’m finding all that administrative work is a full-time job on its own. The team is comprised of paid and volunteer positions and we cover a lot of territory.”
The concept intrigued Boone. “It’s surprising they haven’t had a team like this before.”
Cole nodded. “That’s exactly what I thought. I think the right set of circumstances came together. It was time. I happened to be able to get the ball rolling.”
“How many are on board?”
“We’re still staffing the team,” Cole said. “Our current flight nurse has a day job at the memory care facility. Not exactly ideal. And we’ve hired a pilot.” Cole took a drink from his water bottle. “We can tap staff from EMS and the fire station when we need them. There’s a lot of inter-agency coordination.”
Cole led the way into another room and introduced Boone to Peter Dahlquist, the fire chief, who was working with a paramedic named Ronnie Morales. By the looks between them, they had more going on than installing insulation. Boone didn’t miss the squeeze Ronnie gave Peter’s bicep.
And did she just call him Hot Stuff?
Well, okay then.
Cole laughed and continued down the hall. “Moving on—in here we have Jensen Atwood.” A man kneeled next to a cabinet where he was completing some finish work. “And, of course, you know Seb already.”
He’d seen their faces at the Java Cup and a few had even stopped in to watch Vivien’s auditions.
So like a small town.
They settled into the work, measuring, cutting, screwing in the drywall sheets behind the insulation team. There was something to be said about building things. Being part of a team.
Contributing.
And as the hours passed, Boone found the rhythm twining through him. See? He could keep Vivien off his mind.
It had been ages since he’d been part of a crew. Maybe Landry was right. Being a detective had been a solo endeavor for a long time. He’d put everything into it because it was his life. It was his identity. And his takeaway was a heart murmur, high blood pressure, and a lawsuit.
A door clattered shut down the hall.
“Drop your tools. Lunch has arrived.” Adrian Vassos came down the hallway. “It’s in the kitchen.”
“Outstanding.” Seb led the way and they all converged on the not-quite-kitchen.
“And, check it out.” Cole turned on the kitchen faucet. “Running water.”
“Nice.” Jensen grabbed a stack of paper towels and spray cleaner and wiped down the countertops. “Starting to look like the real thing.”
Adrian passed out sandwiches from Licks and Stuff and then tossed a bag of chips to each of them.
He turned to Boone. “I’m glad to see you’ve been swiftly assimilated into Deep Haven life. How’s that book you’ve been reading?”
“I’ve read the first page about four hundred and seventy-six times.”
Adrian raised a brow. “Ouch. That’s going to hurt when you need to sit down and cram it.”
“It’s already painful.”
Boone took a bite of his turkey and provolone, hunger hitting him hard.
“Coke?” Adrian held up a can from the cooler.
“That’d be great.” Boone took the offered can and sat down on a folding chair in the would-be dining area. Plastic sheeting still covered the floor and the only table was a plywood sheet on sawhorses.
Ronnie slipped into the seat next to Peter. “These sandwiches are amazing.”
“That reminds me. Megan sent me with these too.” Cole pulled a Tupperware container from a duffel bag, popped off the lid, and set it on the counter. “Brownies and chocolate chip cookies.”
“Oh, man. She’s going to make us fat.” Seb laughed. “It’s a good thing I’ll be running up and down the sidelines at practice.”
“So true.” Peter picked up a brownie and took a bite. “Worth it, though. Totally worth it. Hey, so how’s the game going to go next Friday?”
“Oh, I think it’s going to be a good, solid game, don’t you, Boone?” Seb tore open his bag of chips.
“I agree. Those boys have really been showing up this week. Working hard.”
Seb crossed his arms. “Of course, my boys will still prevail.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Caleb’s got Tiger Christiansen on his team. He’s young, but he’s got spirit.”
Seb nodded. “True, though I do have Johnny Dahlquist—and he’s one of our only seniors.”
“And my brother.” Peter thrust his fist overhead.
Boone smiled at Peter. “Oh, so I know whose side you’ll be cheering for. Johnny’s an excellent player. I got to work with him a bit this past week.” He hadn’t been to a good hometown game in years. He was looking forward to the buzz of the crowd, the percussion of feet striking against the stadium seats creating a rumble as the crowd cheered.
The group fell silent, the only sounds crinkling sandwich wrappers and snapping Coke can tabs.
Adrian grabbed a folding chair from the nearby stack and popped it open to sit down with his lunch. “So, Boone, what do you make of Vivien’s strange delivery?”
“What delivery?” He took another bite of his sandwich.
“The box of burned roses.” He studied Boone. “Oh—you didn’t know?”
Burned flowers? Again? Or— “When was this?”
“Just last night.”
He swallowed. Took a drink. So, this was actually her second delivery. And she hadn’t said a word. Hadn’t reached out to him.
“No, I didn’t know.” And now he couldn’t ignore the cop inside.
I had this fan… One night, I went into my dressing room and he was there…roses everywhere…he got between me and the door, and then, he cornered me.
Boone set down his sandwich, his gut knotting at the memory.
Adrian swallowed a bite then dabbed mustard off his lips with a napkin. “Huh. I figured you’d know more about it than me.”
Yeah. Him too. And never mind his investigator’s instincts…the seed of doubt settled in. Maybe Vivien didn’t really want him to be part of her life. Maybe he’d misread her. She had tried to set him up with Beth.
“So, you said this was last night?”
“Yeah.”
“How did you find out about it?”
“I was at the VFW talking with Kyle. His band had finished playing for the night when he got the call.”
“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” Boone asked.
Adrian chewed another bite of his sandwich and swallowed. “She’s your girlfriend. Why didn’t she tell you?”
“Contrary to popular belief, she isn’t my girlfriend and we don’t spend all our time together.” Except, well, maybe she could be his girlfriend. If she actually wanted to be.
“Right.” Adrian cut him a look of disbelief.
“The cast list is up. Maybe the flowers are from a sore loser,” Seb offered.
“In this town?” Boone pushed aside his sandwich, his ravenous hunger suddenly gone.
“Yeah, why not?” Peter asked. “Vivien didn’t seem too surprised.”
Ronnie drew her brows together. “Well, you know your cousin. You never know when she’s acting and when you’re seeing the real deal.” She pulled a rubber band off her wrist and scooped her brown hair into a high ponytail.
“Very true.” Peter nodded. “She’s a tough one to read.”
Cole popped open a Coke. “Things still happen here. We’re like any other town.”
Boone shook his head. “No, you’re not.” But frustration cut an edge to his voice. Apparently, every guy—and woman—on the work site knew more about Vivien’s scare than he did. Right. Her so-called boyfriend. And if the thundering roar in his head was any indication, his blood pressure was no longer in the safe range. He stood. “I’m sorry, I need to go.”
All eyes raised to him, heads nodded.
“Sure. We’ll see you at the game on Friday?” Cole stood and crumpled up his sandwich wrapper.
; Seb held out a fist for a bump. “Oh, yeah. He’s helping us coach—although Caleb said he’s banishing him from the sidelines during the game so he gets the full hometown experience.”
“Outstanding,” Cole said. “Thanks for your help.”
“You’re welcome.” Boone tapped Seb’s fist, then scooped up his lunch leftovers and tossed them in the trash can. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”
In fact, he wasn’t leaving town until he figured out who was terrorizing the girl he kinda, sorta, yes, wanted to be his girlfriend.
Chapter 9
Sunshine flooded Vivien’s bedroom as she dug through piles of clothes. She’d find the ideal outfit to wear to the blue versus white scrimmage slated for next Friday or else she’d need to squeeze in a shopping trip during the week. Something that combined her indomitable team spirit with her flair for old-style Hollywood.
Because she wasn’t going to let some black flowers get her down. Even if Kyle’s initial report was scant on information. And, while he’d taken her seriously, she still felt like an idiot reporting an unwanted flower delivery.
Yes—clothing was the perfect prescription. She’d dress up, play the part, and pretend that nothing was amiss. And, while kissing Boone yesterday may have been a mistake, it had certainly been the most pleasant of her mistakes since…ever.
I got the bad guy and the bullet wound, but I didn’t get the girl.
He certainly deserved the girl. Boone, the protector. The man who never gave up. She’d googled his name. Couldn’t help herself. Lots of news story mentions as a detective in court cases, and it hurt her heart a little to think about the ugly things he had to see in the pursuit of justice for victims.
Some football highlights from high school. A middle school play.
Okay, now she felt like a stalker.
She turned back to her clothing pile. She’d dug out every blue anything she owned, which was actually a substantial quantity. Not that she had a shopping problem. Nope. Well, maybe she had salved her emotional wounds with a trip through the boutiques in SoHo.
She held up the fitted navy boat-neck blouse. Or maybe she should go with the blue cashmere sweater. She snagged it off the bed and looked at it in the mirror.
Yeah, maybe she did have a shopping problem. But still, the blue cashmere was probably best for the evening game. She’d just begun piling everything back into her closet, ending up with both the navy blouse and the cashmere sweater in hand, when the doorbell rang.
She opened the door to Boone, who wore jeans, a Kellogg Police T-shirt, and a hard set to his jaw that said he wasn’t about to sweep her into one of those incredible kisses with those perfect lips.
“Did you have anything you wanted to tell me about?”
“Um…?” She held out the tops in her hands with a shrug. “I’m thinking I might go with the navy?” She held up the blouse and batted her eyes at him.
“Why didn’t you say something to me about the flowers?”
Oh. That. She tossed the sweater and blouse onto the couch and crossed her arms, still standing in the doorway. “How did you find out?”
“I was down at the CRT headquarters this morning. Turns out, everyone in town knew about it—except me.”
His tone suggested anger, if not hurt.
Oops.
“It’s not a big deal. I only called Kyle because Ree said if I didn’t, she would.” Vivien gave him a convincing smile. “Really, it’s nothing, Boone.” She touched his arm. “People are just chatty. Need something to talk about.”
“It doesn’t sound like nothing. Not when you’ve had your half sister creeping around. You get black flowers delivered. Then your ex starts sending you messages and calls. That’s a few too many coincidences.” He frowned. “And let’s not forget about the run-in with the guy at the auditorium.”
“Gordy?” She waved him off. “He might be a crank. Sometimes even a jerk. But he’s harmless.”
“Is he? Do you really know that? And what about that crazy fan you mentioned?”
And the sunshine might as well have ducked behind one of those fluffy cumulus clouds because Caleb and Issy pulled up out front. Parked, popped the hatch on their SUV, and tugged boxes out of the back. And now, they had an audience.
Boone kept his eyes on her even as he moved aside for Issy and Caleb.
“We brought the pom-poms to sell on game day.” Issy followed Caleb up the walk, each carrying a box. “I appreciate you crimping them for me.”
Vivien smiled, not looking at Mr. Thundercloud. “No one wants to buy a flat pom-pom.”
Boone frowned. “Terrific.”
“Is there a problem?” Issy paused. Looked to Boone.
“There’s no problem. Law and Order is just jealous he doesn’t get a pom-pom.”
Issy raised an eyebrow.
“Ms. Cheer Squad should be down talking to Kyle.”
Oh. So that’s how it was going to be.
He turned to her. “Really, you need to take this seriously. Don’t shrug it off.”
“There’s nothing more to say. I already talked to the sheriff about it.”
Caleb looked from Vivien to Boone. “I feel like we’re interrupting something. We can—we can come back later.”
“Or I can find someone else to crimp these.” Issy shook her box of pom-poms.
Boone shook his head. “I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t say something. It frustrates me. I could help.”
“It’s nothing. Just stop before you stress yourself out.”
Issy adjusted the box in her arms. “Are you sure you don’t want us to come back?”
“It’s fine,” Vivie said.
“Right,” Boone growled. “She says it’s fine. It isn’t fine. And she left me in the dark. I can’t stand being left in the dark.” He grabbed the porch rail with both hands. “I—I just want to hit something, I’m so frustrated.”
“What?” Vivien stepped back. She hadn’t realized how close Boone was to unravelling. But clearly, she should stick to theater because she was lousy at helping bring down his blood pressure. A pot of chamomile tea would have done more to calm him than she’d done.
Hopefully he didn’t come unglued when he found out these weren’t just run-of-the-mill burned roses. Nope. She could still feel her gut rebel against the stench.
He crossed his arms, tucking his fists out of sight. “Oh, come on. Not like that. I don’t have an anger issue.”
“Is everything okay?” Caleb looked at Boone.
“I think he’s got his blood pressure up awfully high. And that isn’t good for him.” Vivien picked up a pom-pom and used it like a wand. “You’re going to give yourself a heart attack.”
“I’m not going to have a heart attack.”
“Maybe we should call Rachelle,” Issy offered.
“I’m fine!”
“You don’t look fine.” Vivien tapped her temple with her index finger. “You’ve got this angry vein that says you’re not fine.”
He shook his head again, put his hands on his hips. “Thanks for that. Just—just—thanks.”
“So, we still don’t know what the problem is,” Issy said, her voice soft.
Boone rubbed his hand over his hair. “I’m just a little upset—”
“Angry,” Vivien interrupted. “He’s actually very, very angry.”
“Upset.” He narrowed his gaze. “Vivie here didn’t tell her boyfriend when she got flowers from a stranger.”
“Boyfriend?” This was the very same man who’d kissed her, apologized, poured out his deepest personal story to her, then carefully set her away from himself in the friend file.
“Boyfriend?” Caleb looked from Boone to Vivien.
Issy stepped onto the porch. “Flowers, huh?”
Boone nodded like the Blue Ox bobble heads they gave out on promo nights. “Oh, yeah. Not just any flowers either—weird, creepy black roses. Rotten? Burned? I’d know more, except she didn’t tell me.”
A furrow cut into
Caleb’s brow. “Okay, that is weird. Who sends black roses?”
“Yeah.” Boone turned to Issy. “Would you keep something like that from your boyfriend?”
“Do I get to say something?” Vivien held up her hand. They ignored her.
“Well, no, I wouldn’t keep anything from my husband,” Issy said. She looked at Vivien. “Sorry.”
“I’d be upset,” Caleb added.
Oh, right. Ganging up on her. She faced Issy and Caleb. “Whose side are you on?”
“See?” Boone had a smug look of self-satisfaction on his face—and it was all the more irritating because he was still adorable.
Of course he’d be worried. That was the kind of guy he was.
“I’m sorry—but I really don’t think it’s a big deal.”
The three of them cut her a look. She glanced away, the image of the decaying flowers filling her mind. She let out a long breath before facing him. “Okay, I agree. It’s weird. I should have said something.” She hoisted the box from Issy and dropped it inside the house while Boone took the second box from Caleb and set it inside.
“Right. Especially if you guys are dating,” Issy added. Spoken like a love-show radio host.
Boone smiled, held out his hand to Vivien. “Coming?”
“Where?”
“We’re going to go talk to Kyle. Together.”
She shook her head but smiled and took his hand and let him lead her to his car with a wave to the ever-smiling Caleb and Issy.
“See you at practice!” Caleb hollered. “Oh—hey, Kyle was down at the VFW rehearsing with his band when we picked up lunch earlier.”
“Got it, thanks.”
“Do you feel better now?” she asked, yanking her hand away.
He opened the car door for her. “Lots better.” She got in. “Go with the cashmere.”
Cashmere? Now he wanted to talk clothes? He closed the passenger door and walked around the car.
Got in.
“Are you going to explain why this is such a big deal to you? This doesn’t have anything to do with PJ, does it?”
“No.”
“Then what, Boone? What is it? Because you’re kind of freaking me out.”
He started the car and pulled away from the curb.
They rode in silence and Boone worked his jaw, clearly stewing on something. When they arrived at the VFW, he put the car in Park.
Then Came You Page 15
