by Patti Larsen
“At least someone has my back around here,” she said, voice pitched low. “Thank you for being here, Fee, for being loyal to your town. I can always count on you and your parents to have Reading’s best interests at heart.” Hmmm. Where did that come from? Dad had been a popular sheriff, but I wasn’t exactly well loved, considering I’d been present for a number of untimely deaths since I got home. “I do wish I could convince you to run for council. I could use your voice. Or your mother’s, for that matter.”
Whoa, what? This was the first I’d heard of any such desire on her part, and sat so far outside my radar I couldn’t muster a reply due to sheer shock. At least on my part. As for Mom and Dad? Maybe Olivia didn’t realize Mom wasn’t herself since that stupid show in January. I opened my mouth to let her have it after all, regaining control—loosely termed—of my tongue and temper when the mayor rushed on as if she had no idea, not one inkling, of the truth of the devastation she’d left behind her with that horrible choice.
“No matter and you don’t have to decide now. But I do know you understand just how important the continuing efforts of my position are in supporting and growing the tourism industry in Reading. This place doesn’t sell itself.” She wiped at her upper lip again, though whether from stress or from the heat of the day troubling her in her full suit I wasn’t sure. “The council seems to think that the efforts I’ve made up until now are sufficient.” Was that faint panic in her eyes? “They have no idea the kind of continuing pressure that needs to be applied, the marketing and strategies that placing Reading’s name and brand in the hearts and minds of tourists requires.” I guess I didn’t, either, then. Was I taking it all for granted? “You are the only one who appreciates just how much money and commitment goes into maintaining brand recognition, let alone stimulating growth.” She gave me too much credit. I was winging it, for the most part, felt myself flush with the desire to deny her compliment. “Well, you and Vivian. We really must sit down together and look at my vision. I’d love your input into direction next quarter.”
Whoa, she’d what? “Um, okay.” Fee, shut up, for goodness sake. Agree to nothing. Nothing.
But that was the right response, apparently. Olivia beamed at me before her face darkened once again. “I am acutely aware of who it was sabotaged this park and my recent efforts to publicize the Reading hoard and our famous ancestor.” She didn’t turn around, instead glaring her fury at me like I was the perpetrator. “And I’m taking steps to eliminate the threat.” Yikes, this was small town politics, not an arms race. Then again, there was a lot of money at stake, wasn’t there? My own business was proof of that. “Your continued support is greatly appreciated.” She let me go and I rubbed at my elbow, sure I’d have bruises there in the morning. “Say hello to your parents for me, won’t you?” And, with that, she spun and left, waving for the cameras and getting into her car, her council following while the media continued their barrage at the young owners of the park and my mind churned.
A traitor on council. I could guess. But why were the Pattersons suddenly so interested in politics? I briefly considered trying to talk to Geoffrey Jenkins, but held my place as he climbed into the back of one of the cars, accepting the excuse he was already leaving and I could go question him later about his and the family’s motives. Never mind the idea of actually having a conversation with him made me want to take a shower. A long, boiling shower with bleach.
Instead, chest tight with the need to do something, no matter what that something might be, I decided playing snoop here at the park was the happier alternative. Seeing Carmen and Aiden—and Jared—win against the protest would be most satisfying.
That was, as long as no one found a woodpecker. Better not. I was looking forward to a victory.
***
Chapter Eleven
By the time Carmen, reporters in tow, smiled at me from behind the counter of the welcome center most of the lingering unhappiness that had plagued my arrival was gone. Instead, her smile and the growing enthusiasm of Aiden and Jared fed my own grin as I stepped up, the first paying guest of Zip It!
“ID, please,” she said. “We need a scan for insurance purposes.”
I gaped at her. “You’re kidding.” I’d naturally left it in the car. But after all this, surely she’d let it slide?
Nope, not happening, and I guess I didn’t blame her. She firmly shook her head, addressing the cameras pointed in her face. “We’re strictly by the book here at Zip It!,” she said. “Safety and protocols are of the utmost importance to keeping our visitors safe.”
Grumble, mumble, fine, whatever. I did my best not to show my irritation—I’d saved her freaking park, hadn’t I?—and instead headed back out into the sunny late morning and the parking lot. Felt weird to walk away with cameras at my back, that creeping feeling of being watched not helping even a little bit, though it was only because I was acutely aware of the scrutiny this entire place was under. It was almost a relief to pass through the gates and onto the blacktop, to retreat to my car and for a moment I considered just getting in and driving away. After all, Jared didn’t really need me anymore. The crisis was handled, at least for now. Except, of course, my inner busybody refused to drive off without resolution and I grinned at myself as I unlocked the front door and fished my wallet out of the dash. Sometimes being nosy was a pain in the ass.
I nabbed my hoody from the back seat, tying it around my waist, not sure if I’d be needing it and kicking myself a bit for failing to use it earlier as a shield from the camera attention. Whatever. So my rear was on national television? As I straightened, still chuckling about the vicious cycle of stay versus go I’d created for myself, I noticed movement among the cars across the divide of the parking lot. A tall, thin blonde with a camera crept through the lines of vehicles, snapping pictures of license plates. I crossed to her as quietly as I could, frowning as I noted her taking photos of even Jared’s truck and when I came to a halt next to her heard her meep in surprise to be caught in the act.
She stood to her full height, a few inches above mine, her slim frame willowy, long narrow face thin and faintly tanned. Her pale brown eyes seemed guilty but she laughed a bit at her shock and shook her head.
“You startled me,” she said in a soft alto.
“Are you a journalist?” I didn’t mean to sound threatening, but sneaking pictures wasn’t exactly something that endeared me, considering my own car sat in this lot.
She hesitated before shrugging. “Fleur King.” She offered her hand and I shook it, surprised by the strength in her fingers despite her slender appearance.
“Fiona Fleming.” I dropped her hand, crossing my arms over my chest, glancing at Jared’s plate. “Finding anything interesting, Miss King?”
She grinned, swiping a strand of thick, blonde hair out of her face. “A few things,” she said. “You’re friends with the owners?”
An honest guess. I was about to reply, however, that wasn’t exactly any of her business when I heard Crew call my name. I glanced over at the entrance, watched him head in my direction, and turned back to find Fleur had ducked away from me, waving as she vanished around the side of Jared’s truck. Apparently, people walking away from me when I was distracted was going to be a thing for me today. The first person who did it to me earlier seemed to have had a change of heart, though, as the sheriff came to a halt beside me. His gaze followed mine as I turned back to where Fleur had vanished.
“Trouble?” He sounded amused by the word and the suggestion I’d found some was likely.
I almost smacked him. “Funny guy, ha ha. You should try standup.”
He winked, nudging me with his elbow. “I’m here all week.”
Amazing how his blue eyes could make me want to grab him and kiss him. No, not just his eyes. How many times did I have to say down, girl before it stuck?
“I was thinking,” he said, “things are under control, at least for now.” He cleared his throat, looked down at the ground, then up at me again. “I w
ant to stick around and I know you’re staying put. There might be a great way to keep an eye on this place where we can both snoop.”
This was sounding interesting. “You up for some zip lining, Sheriff Turner?”
He grinned suddenly, boyishly, pushing one big hand through his dark hair. “I haven’t done it in a while and I love it.” He sobered before smiling again like he fought the compulsion. “I’m still working, but Jared suggested it. It’s a great idea.” It was clear he struggled with the mix of business and pleasure.
Well, if he was looking for me to give him permission, I was all for it. The thought of swinging through the trees like Tarzan and Jane had the instant kind of zinging appeal that made me laugh, so low and full of a burst of lusty passion it shocked me. And him, from the way his pupils dilated and his whole body swayed toward me.
“Not the first date I was hoping for,” I said, leaning in to place one hand on his chest, over his heart. It was beating about as fast as mine all of a sudden. “But I’ll take it.”
Crew’s answering grin had far more heat in it than even the sun overhead. And as we crossed together to the entry of the park, I wondered suddenly what it would be like to kiss him suspended at thirty feet.
***
I can honestly say I’ve never had that much fun in my entire life. While I was expecting to enjoy myself, the following hours spend flying through the treetops with Crew at my side bordered on the type of hilarious joy that brought me back to childhood abandon. A quick call to Daisy while the sheriff hovered, waiting for me to hurry up already, devolved into whispering giggles as she encourage me to take my time. Guilt washed clear the moment he took my hand and I followed him with the kind of skipping delight I knew I’d be embarrassed to look back on later.
As it turned out, stealing the occasional kiss from him on the towering platforms just before flying away on a thin line in a rush of air while laughing breathlessly over the sensation of his mouth on mine offered the sort of giddy rush that I hadn’t expected from today or any day. And, as we continued to explore the park, navigating the high ropes and the purposely rickety bridges of disconnected boards, climbing and gliding and embracing in the shadowing leaves for instants of private passion, I felt this giant bubble of happiness build and build inside me until I was positive I would never come down from the high that was Crew Turner.
My plan to keep an eye on the protestors evaporated every time he hooked one arm around my waist and tucked me against him, the pair of us lost for a moment in each other’s gaze. More often than not he would kiss me first, though I claimed my fair share of delicious encounters before pushing off and leaving him behind to follow.
He, at least, held onto a shred of responsibility, calling in on occasion to check with Jill and Robert on the state of the hunt for the endangered birds. Aside from the theft of some rope from the entrance building that Aiden seemed to think was a big deal, nothing untoward broke through our fun. As the afternoon began to age and the mostly satisfied protesters began to exit the park empty handed, a sense of peace and delight devoured my worry and, it seemed, lulled Crew out of the kind of tense observation that felt most common in him.
We only encountered one real issue as the day wore on. As I touched down at the bottom of a hand-over-hand bridge, the lines over my head and wiggling rope under my feet knocking me off balance, I stumbled and caught myself as someone barreled past, sign swinging beside him. It hooked the edge of my harness just as I disconnected from the line, spinning me sideways and pushing my already wobbly self into a hard fall on my butt. I woofed out some air in a grumbling complaint, Crew landing gracefully next to me in time to grasp the arm of the young man who’d knocked me over.
“Careful,” the sheriff growled. “Watch where you’re going.”
The young man tried to shake free before noticing the badge on Crew’s shirt, his characteristic white had gone in favor of the helmet Carmen fitted him with. Irritation turned to surprise as my unwitting assailant finally seeming to realize who he was talking to.
“Sorry,” he said, not meaning it, though he did meet my eyes with his own pale green ones as I pulled myself to my feet, brushing dirt from my backside and trying not to blush from the clumsy fall.
“Name,” Crew snapped.
“Philip Davis,” he said, turning to me again, this time with what looked like regret, boots grinding into the dirt as he spun in my direction. “I am sorry, miss.”
I shrugged it off. “Any luck finding the woodpeckers?” I didn’t mean to sound sarcastic. Oh wait, yeah, I did. Sue me.
How lovely for him to look so distinctly uncomfortable, glancing back over his shoulder, his expression guilty. Trying to plant some evidence, young man? “Not yet,” he said. Crew let him go and he nodded to both of us before hurrying off again.
Crew looked like he wanted to go after him, almost did. His momentum was cut off before it began, stopped by Carmen who appeared out of nowhere from the direction Philip had just stormed from. She stumbled to a halt, staring at us like she wasn’t expecting us to be there.
“Everything okay?” My handsome sheriff—yes, mine, back off Captain Gorgeouspants and you won’t get hurt—showed his typical concern, but she just shook her head, forced a smile.
“Protestors,” she said. “Just keeping an eye on them.”
Hmmm. This from the woman who told him not to bother? “Good so far?”
She nodded then, looked relieved. “Having fun?”
I grinned, couldn’t help it. “You’re getting a great review from me,” I said.
Carmen left us, waving, pursuing the disappearing figure of Philip Davis, leaving Crew to stare after her with his trademark frown. I took a chance and cupped his face in one hand, turning him toward me. Reached up on tiptoe to kiss the end of his nose. Winked.
Crew laughed. And followed me as I raced up the next tree.
Thank goodness I’d started running again or I never would have survived an hour. It was hard work, but so much fun, and being fit again could only benefit me as the summer unfolded. I really needed to make sure I kept up with it. I wondered if Crew would be into morning jogs. Or some other form of exercise that elevated the heartrate.
Fiona Fleming. Naughty, naughty.
Maybe it was just I finally got to see the real Crew. Or, I preferred to believe I was a good influence on him. Either way, as my watch hit 3PM with that final climb and my energy level began to flag, I was positive the last of his reticence had been washed away by the fun of the day. Who knew such a horrible and stressful beginning could turn out quite so delightful?
I came to a panting halt at the top of the last platform in the row, one we’d zipped several times already. It was the longest of the grouping, stretching out into the treetops, well sheltered at the beginning by a tunnel of branches and leaves that made a stunning oasis of green shadows and cool air fed by a soft breeze. The perfect day for zip lining, if I did say so myself. I turned as Crew landed next to me, so close I could feel his breath on my cheek before he bent to press his lips to my ear.
“Have dinner with me tonight.” The gruffness of his voice made me shiver all over, especially when he didn’t move after speaking, mouth grazing over my earlobe, faint trace of his teeth nibbling at the edge. He was lucky we were thirty feet up on a narrow platform because had we been on the ground? He’d have been at risk of a hard landing and some rather private activity that may or may not have ended in the pair of us getting arrested.
Seriously. Yum.
I met his eyes, took a long moment to stare into them, force myself to breathe. I wanted to say yes, instantly and without reservation. Instead, I held his gaze, made him look at me, really look at me, before I kissed him as softly as I could.
“Ask me again when we’re down,” I whispered over his lips. “And if you’re sure, I’m yours.” Shiver. Not the choice of words I’d meant, but, well. Yeah.
His.
He didn’t respond, waited for me to pull away. Watched as I
checked my helmet and switched over my carabiner from the climb rope tethered to the platform support line to the zip line before unhooking as I’d been taught. Felt like a bit of overkill on the safety department, but I wasn’t arguing. I stepped out onto the edge of the platform, staring down the expanse into the treetops, the bulk of it obscured from sight, fading from sunlight into shadow. And held my breath as I realized this plunge into the unknown—safe despite how it was made to appear to increase the thrill, I was sure—was a mirror to how I felt about Crew. As I smiled to myself, heart pounding over the connection I discovered, I made the physical choice symbolizing the one I would solidify tonight over dinner.
I chose to leap into the mysterious and a little scary and ride that line. I chose Crew.
It wasn’t until I plunged into the dark tunnel of leaves halfway down the line I realized someone else hung there, suspended ahead of me. There was nothing I could do to stop at that point and I impacted the limp form, my momentum carrying both of us forward. My hands grappled for the figure, slowly turning around on the lines suspending him, the furthest platform rushing toward us, though without the speed I’d been expecting from my previous rides.
He completed his rotation, facing me, empty eyes staring into mine, Lewis Brown’s limp, dead body pressed against me while we slid to a halt ten feet from the end, trapping me in his embrace, suspended above the forest floor.
While I exhaled. Inhaled.
And started to scream.
***
Chapter Twelve
Okay, so it’s not like this was my first dead body or anything. And I’d had a guy die on top of me, after all, so there was precedence set. Still, there had been tons of people around and while I’d been trapped under Skip Anderson briefly, the fact I was on the ground and rescue was quick to come had at least limited the physical contact to maybe a minute, tops.
