“Like I said, you did your job.” He glanced at his watch. “Aren’t you off duty?”
“I am.”
“Then why are you still here?”
Her mouth twitched with a half smile.
“Again, I appreciate that you brought this to my attention. I’ll handle it from this point forward.”
“Thank you.” The relief in her voice was evident.
When Gloria had left his office, Troy decided he’d better talk to the mayor immediately; otherwise, this whole affair could blow up in his face. Briefly he wondered if Louie was a secret drinker. In any case, Troy was not the kind of lawman who’d bow to influence or intimidation.
But the reasons for the mayor’s behavior, whatever they might be, were irrelevant. Louie was in the wrong, no question about it.
When he called the jail, he discovered that Mayor Benson had been released on his own recognizance.
Their confrontation wasn’t going to be pleasant. Lately he seemed to be at odds with the mayor over a number of issues. This certainly wouldn’t improve their relationship.
Troy found Benson in his office at city hall. The mayor glanced up when Troy was announced, then glanced away. He looked dreadful—pale and disheveled with bloodshot eyes. From his appearance, Troy suspected Benson hadn’t had much sleep.
“Your department seems to enjoy embarrassing me,” Louie said, taking the defensive even before Troy had opened his mouth.
“I’d say you’re doing a mighty fine job of that all by yourself,” he countered.
Louie got up to close his office door. When he turned to face Troy, his mouth was set in a grim line. “I’d like this matter to disappear. I trust you can make that happen.”
Nope, he couldn’t. “Unfortunately, the outcome is out of my control.”
It was as if the other man hadn’t heard him. “Your deputy’s overzealous. She targeted me because of my position as mayor.”
“That’s simply not true. Ashton is a good officer. She—”
“I was only fractionally over the legal limit, Sheriff. The officer refused to listen to reason. Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to be put in handcuffs and escorted to jail?”
“You broke the law.”
“By a fraction of a point,” he said, tapping his desk.
“You’re the one who decided you were sober enough to drive. Don’t cast blame other than where it belongs.” After a meaningful pause, he added, “If you want to make a fuss, perhaps I should mention that not only did you break the law, you threatened one of my officers.”
The mayor ignored Troy’s comment as he paced, his steps agitated and angry. He seemed to be weighing his options. Finally he sighed, shaking his head. “Okay, whatever. You’re right—I shouldn’t have gotten behind the wheel. I accept full responsibility. Still, once word of this gets out, it could ruin me.”
“Possibly.” Troy wasn’t going to downplay the situation.
“But that isn’t your problem, is it?” The question was tossed at him flippantly.
“How you cope with the political fallout is up to you.”
The mayor walked back to his desk and braced his hands against the edge. “I’ve never done anything like this before. I…I don’t drink and drive.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
Benson was quiet for a moment, then looked up at Troy. “Do you have any suggestions on how to deal with this?”
Troy didn’t wait for an invitation; he sat down and met the other man’s eyes without flinching. “I believe honesty really is the best policy. Admit that you made a mistake and that you’ll take responsibility for your actions.”
Slowly the mayor sank into his leather chair. “That’s harder than you think,” he muttered.
“It would be helpful for the public to know how easily something like this can happen.” Troy frequently dealt with similar cases. A couple of after-work beers or glasses of wine in quick succession, and then people would drive home, unaware of how much the alcohol had affected them. Mayor Benson wasn’t alone.
Apparently he didn’t like Troy’s advice. Frowning, he said, “So now you want me to turn this into a public service announcement.”
Troy didn’t feel that was worthy of a response. “However you approach it with your constituents is up to you,” he said dispassionately.
Louie’s face seemed to pale even more. “You’re right…it’s just that…” He left the rest unsaid. Sighing again, he hung his head. “I guess the best way to deal with this fiasco is to face it head-on. I’ll contact Jack Griffin at the paper and give him the story before he prints it on his own.”
“Smart idea.” Jack, the Chronicle’s editor, was a good person for the mayor to talk to, for more than the obvious reason. Jack was a recovering alcoholic with quite a few years of sobriety. If the mayor had a drinking problem, there was no one better than Jack Griffin to confide in.
The two men parted amicably enough. The arrest was acutely embarrassing for Louie and at the same time it might be the wake-up call he needed. What happened now was entirely up to Louie Benson.
After that bumpy start to the day, Troy was hoping his afternoon would run smoothly. Unfortunately, that wasn’t to be.
Faith’s call came in at close to one o’clock. Troy couldn’t disguise his pleasure in hearing from her. “Faith! This is a nice surprise.”
“I apologize,” she said and hardly sounded like herself, “but I’m going to have to cancel our dinner date.”
Troy’s spirits did an automatic nosedive. “Oh?” He did his best to seem nonchalant, as though this was a minor disappointment. It wasn’t.
“Someone slashed my tires last night.”
“What?” Troy gritted his teeth as anger surged through him. “Did you report it?”
“What good will that do?” she cried. “I’ve reported the vandalism before and nothing seems to help.”
Troy was too agitated to discuss this over the phone. “I’m on my way over to your place.”
“Troy—”
“Ten minutes.” He hung up, grabbed his hat and coat and was out the door. Although this wasn’t technically an emergency, he turned on his lights but not the siren. He wished he could determine why Faith had been targeted—and how to stop it. But whatever it took, he was determined to put an end to this.
When Faith opened the door, she looked pale and drawn, with dark shadows beneath her eyes. He wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her but reminded himself that he was there as a professional, not as her friend—or would-be lover.
“Tell me what happened,” he said in his most authoritative voice.
Faith led him to her living room and slumped down on the couch. “I was supposed to go to work this morning, but when I went out to the car, I saw that…that my tires were slashed.”
“All four?”
She nodded.
This was no small expense.
“I called the clinic and told them I couldn’t come in today. Then I contacted the auto service. They had to tow my car to the tire place…. I won’t have it back until tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry, Faith.” As the town’s sheriff, Troy felt responsible. “Did the neighbors see anything?”
Faith shook her head. “I already asked. It must’ve happened after midnight, which is when the McCormicks next door went to bed. No one saw or heard a thing.”
Troy closed his eyes in frustration.
“I was so upset, I phoned my daughter, and Jay Lynn insisted I spend the weekend with them. Frankly, Troy, I need to get away. I’m at the end of my rope. Someone doesn’t want me here and after today…after this morning, all I can say is I don’t want to be here, either.”
“You don’t mean it,” he said.
“I do. I made a huge mistake the day I moved to Cedar Cove.”
His hand tightened on his hat brim, crushing the felt. “It was exactly the opposite for me. It was one of the best days of my life.”
“Apparently you have a
short memory,” she chided, then smiled weakly in his direction. “I was shocked when the Seattle house sold so quickly—but even more shocked when you said we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”
If Troy could take back those words, if he could unsay them, he would. Breaking off the relationship with Faith had been one of the biggest blunders of his adult life, and he’d paid for it every day since.
“Listen,” Faith said, “I don’t mean to rehash old arguments. I’m tired and upset and a weekend away will do me good.”
Troy agreed, although he would’ve liked it a whole lot better if she’d decided to visit her son instead of Jay Lynn. Scott, at least, lived in town.
“Is there anything I can do?” Troy asked.
She gazed up at him, her bruised-looking eyes meeting his. “There’s nothing anyone can do. The best thing for me is to leave town.”
“No!” he objected loudly.
“For the weekend,” she amended. “What happens after that can wait. Now isn’t a good time for either of us to make a decision about…whether we have a future together.”
Troy disagreed with her. He wanted Faith with him. He wanted to marry her. But first he had to convince her that they did have a future together. A future in Cedar Cove.
Twenty-Three
Linc Wyse was not in favor of this idea of Mary Jo’s. If his sister wanted to move out of the house, fine; she was free to do so whenever she wished. That said, in his opinion the timing didn’t make any sense.
As a young mother, Mary Jo needed to be home with her baby. It went without saying that she resented his attitude—but then that was par for the course. He knew that by today’s standards it was perfectly normal for a mother to return to work three months after giving birth. Their own mother had been a stay-at-home mom and he had strong feelings on the subject. Okay, maybe that wasn’t a popular stance and it certainly wasn’t one his sister shared. When he became a husband and father—he instantly dismissed that thought. Marriage wasn’t likely to happen for someone like him, not with his old-fashioned views. That saddened him but he might as well accept reality.
He’d found it more difficult than he would’ve believed to watch Mary Jo pack up and move across Puget Sound. Despite that, he rather liked Cedar Cove. He’d driven all around the area on Christmas Eve, searching for Mary Jo, and—for the most part—he’d had a good impression of it. His recent visits had confirmed that. It was a nice little town, welcoming and friendly. The only drawback was the distance. In the past week alone, he’d made four trips to the Kitsap Peninsula to see his sister and the baby. To check up on both of them.
According to Mary Jo, not a single one of those trips had been necessary. But Linc wouldn’t sleep at night if he hadn’t personally seen to his sister’s and niece’s well-being. He’d always taken family responsibility seriously.
It only seemed right that he visit Noelle on her very first St. Patrick’s Day. Their family background—like that of so many Americans—was motley, with English, French and German that he knew of. He was sure there must be some Irish in there, too. Just in case, he’d bought her a plush leprechaun doll. But he had an even better excuse for this visit; he’d located a new sofa and chair in a closeout deal. He’d wanted to bring them himself, which saved delivery fees. The truth was, he looked forward to surprising his sister.
Mary Jo had him pegged as some sort of ogre and that just wasn’t true. He hoped this peace offering would help.
When he parked in front of the duplex, he saw Mack McAfee on a ladder, cleaning out the gutters. Linc hadn’t quite made up his mind about McAfee. Mack had been with Mary Jo during the most critical time of her life. Still, having him live right next door was a little too convenient. Linc wasn’t sure he approved.
He’d made the mistake of voicing his concerns, and Mary Jo had nearly bitten his head off. He’d kept his trap shut ever since. Apparently, when it came to McAfee, his sister didn’t care for Linc’s advice. Fine. He’d keep his opinions to himself—and keep an eye on McAfee.
“Hey, Linc,” Mack called out. He climbed down from the ladder and thrust out his hand, which Linc willingly shook.
“I don’t suppose my sister’s home?” Linc already knew the answer. He asked because he wanted to know how closely the firefighter kept tabs on his little sister. This was one of those catch-22 situations. He wanted Mack to watch over her. At the same time, he wanted to be sure the guy wasn’t paying her more attention than warranted.
It was a thin line, and Linc planned on being around often enough to see that Mack didn’t cross it.
“Mary Jo’s home.”
“Good.”
“I see you brought her some furniture.”
Well, at least he was observant, Linc thought a little sarcastically.
“I think she’ll be pleased with the sofa,” Mack was saying.
Linc hoped so. Hard to tell with Mary Jo. Or with any woman, he realized. He simply didn’t understand women or know how to communicate with them. Over the years he’d had a number of relationships, all of which had come to an abrupt end. The way he figured it, the fault must lie with him. Mary Jo had often told him he was too domineering, too bullheaded and a chauvinist to boot. He’d honestly tried to change, tried to be more sensitive, but that hadn’t worked, either. As far as he could tell, he was destined to remain unmarried. Until Noelle, the fact that he’d never have kids hadn’t bothered him.
It did now.
He loved his niece more than he ever could have foreseen. With Mary Jo and Noelle living in Cedar Cove, the house was strangely quiet and empty. Mel and Ned led busy lives; they were often out. They didn’t have the problems Linc did with women. They were both in relationships and he assumed they’d be married soon.
When Linc wasn’t at the house, he was at work. He ran the car repair shop his father had opened nearly fifty years earlier. Because he was the oldest, he considered it his duty to hold the family business, as well as the family, together. Ever since their parents’ deaths, he’d done his utmost to manage the shop, keep the peace and make sure everyone was okay.
“How’s Mary Jo doing?” Linc asked.
“Why don’t you ask me directly?” she said. She stood in the doorway of her half of the duplex, arms crossed. “It’s not like I’m living in China, you know.”
“Right.” For fear he might say or do something else to upset her, Linc shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Since you asked, I’m doing very well, thank you.”
“And Noelle?”
“The same.”
Linc cleared his throat and turned to Mack; the return stare told him he was on his own.
Gesturing to his truck, Linc said, “I brought you a housewarming gift.”
“Another one?”
“Ah…it seemed you could use more than one.”
Mary Jo smiled. “That was nice of you.”
Linc felt the tension ease from his shoulders and the back of his neck.
He handed over the stuffed leprechaun, which was added to Noelle’s growing pile of toys. Then, with Mack’s assistance, he hauled the sofa and chair into Mary Jo’s living room. She indicated where she wanted them, then changed her mind not once but twice. He wasn’t annoyed, and neither was Mack.
Noelle had been asleep but woke shortly after Mary Jo was satisfied with the arrangement of the furniture. Sitting down on the new chair, Linc held his niece, who smelled deliciously of baby powder and shampoo, and kissed her forehead. She yawned and arched her back, raising her elbows as she did. Babies fascinated him. At first, when Mary Jo had brought Noelle home, he’d been terrified of hurting her—dropping her or squeezing too tight. Gradually he’d become more relaxed around the infant. It helped that she’d outgrown the colic. As it was now, he could hold this little one for hours and be content.
“Do you want to feed her?” Mary Jo asked Linc, after seeing Mack to the door.
“I thought…you know, breasts…” The words seemed to stumble all over themse
lves and he knew he was blushing furiously.
“Since I work now, I’m using a breast pump.”
Some subjects were best not discussed between sister and brother. Breast pumps fell into that category. “I…think maybe you should feed her.” He knew he sounded gruff but couldn’t help it.
Noelle smiled up at him and he smiled back. He dared not look at his sister as he muttered, “Are you seeing a lot of that neighbor of yours?”
There was a short hesitation. “What makes you ask?”
Linc shrugged, grateful she hadn’t taken offense. “It’s just that he seems to be around every time I stop by.”
“He lives next door. What do you expect?”
Her reply held an edge that warned him against pursuing this line of questioning further. Difficult though it was, Linc didn’t ask anything else. If his sister did become involved with her neighbor, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. As long as Mack understood that Linc wouldn’t allow another man to take advantage of her.
He was well aware that Mary Jo would never talk to him again if he asked McAfee what his intentions were. Still, Linc wanted to know.
Mary Jo offered him dinner but he declined. He’d stayed too long already. It was time to hit the road.
After thanking him for the living room set, Mary Jo walked Linc to his truck. “Drive carefully, okay?”
“I will,” he promised.
“You know, don’t you, that it’s not necessary to check up on me every day?”
He shrugged in response.
“Or even every other day.”
He grinned.
“You don’t need to hold the family together anymore, Linc. We’re all adults. And we’re all capable of making our own decisions, learning from our own mistakes. You’re sweet to want to protect me, but it really isn’t necessary.”
Then, to his utter amazement, Mary Jo rose up on tiptoe, placed her hands on either side of his face and kissed his cheek.