Barbecue and Bad News (7 page)

“Sheriff!” someone shouted from behind him.

He spun around to see two girls clambering onto the stage. They weren’t locals.

One of his deputies was already escorting one of them off. That was the only problem with having a celebrity do these kinds of things locally. The locals respected Cody and his privacy, and appreciated the free concert, but fans always found out about their private events and showed up causing trouble.

He grabbed the second girl by the waist and set her down on the ground. “Calm down, young lady.”

“I know him!” she screamed. “I love him. He wants me to come onstage.”

“I’m sure he does. It just won’t be tonight.” Sheriff Calvin guided the half-drunk, scantily clad brunette to the edge of the stage and gave her a choice. “You can enjoy the rest of the show from right here, or I’d be happy to show you the way to the parking lot.”

She started with a flurry of words that his momma wouldn’t deem ladylike.

“Parking lot it is,” he said.

CHAPTER THREE

W
hen Savannah opened her eyes, the room was so dark that it was d
isorienting. The sun wasn’t shining through the blue sheers of her bedroom window, and the city sounds of DC weren’t ratcheting up like an alarm clock trying to nudge her awake along with the smell of coffee she’d set to perk the night before.

No, this morning the room was so dark she wasn’t sure whether it was still night or her body had done its usual six o’clock ready-to-go like it did every other day.

She extended her arm, patting the air for a table and her phone. Finally she felt the rubbery case of her phone and picked it up. As soon as she pressed the thumbspot, the display cast a bright light in the room and showed the time: 6:00 a.m.

Like clockwork. That’s me.

One fuzzy thought pushed in and she remembered she was in Adams Grove. In a rented apartment for some downtime. Or a semi-vacation, as Evelyn had put it. But seriously, wasn’t vacationing like being pregnant? You either were or you weren’t.

Then again, Evelyn was going to reassign the Advice from Van column, and that was enough to make her practically bounce right out of the bed. She didn’t even care if it meant a pay cut. She’d been frugal with the pay increase from the column, treating it like a bonus rather than a long-term thing from the start. Who knew that joke would turn into a two-year commitment? She’d had a good run with it.

With no commute and no schedule, she felt like she had time to sleep in. An unusual feeling, but a nice change. Plus it was Sunday. But her body wouldn’t cooperate with her brain.

She twisted the light switch on the bedside lamp, then slipped out of bed and into her yoga pants and a T-shirt. She hadn’t planned to be in Belles Corner but one night, so her impromptu extended stay in Adams Grove left her with limited wardrobe choices.

Her notes and laptop lay on the table near the window. She grabbed them and sat down to write, but her attention kept drifting outside. Maybe the good view wasn’t the best recipe for productivity. Finally she got up, took her laptop to the office, and settled into the oversized executive chair behind the ornate wooden desk.

She’d forgotten to ask Connor for the Wi-Fi login information, but she remembered what that old guy at the B and B had said. A quick glance down the short list of wireless connections and she was able to log in on the wireless network titled AG_Library. Sure enough, no password and no pass-through fee. A few clicks and she was on the GetItNowNews website and able to access her work e-mail at GINN, which was already stacking up. It hadn’t been but a couple of days, but if she let it go, it would become unmanageable in a hurry. She did a quick scan of the long list of e-mails and deleted the ones she knew were junk, then closed out of it.

There was no sense in getting started on the story for Evelyn, since she’d just have to stop to meet up with Connor and Carolanne at the event down at the artisan center this afternoon. So she jotted down a couple of ideas for articles instead. Speed traps. Pumping your own gas. Small-town gossip. Diet differences. How many businesses does a town really need? Car choices—city versus rural. None of them seemed exciting, though.

She shifted gears and made a quick grocery list and a to-do list and arranged the desk to her liking. Maybe she’d pick up a few stronger story ideas while she was in town.

The small-town cops idea hit a little close to her discomfort zone, and Evelyn knew that, but the incident was funny, and Savannah knew she could turn that little speeding ticket story into something fun with nothing more than her imagination and memories from her hometown. Out of the few she’d brainstormed, that seemed to be the best one to start with. Besides, Evelyn already seemed to love that story and it would buy Savannah more time to figure out the others in the series.

Right now, though, the priority was coffee.

She shut the top of her laptop and headed downstairs to venture out. A quick cup of coffee and then a trip to the market to get the bare necessities should do it.

The morning air was warm, but a breeze made it pleasant. The air smelled of breakfast. Not bagels and coffee, but bacon and sausage. Even the food preferences of small-town folks were different. She’d grown up on eggs, bacon, and toast slathered in butter. Not refrigerated hard pats of butter either, but butter that had been left right out on the kitchen counter so it’d be soft enough to really glop it on good. Those were the days, but then if she still ate like that, she’d have to spend every afternoon in the gym burning calories. Nowadays, she might get an occasional doughnut, but more often than not breakfast was limited to just coffee, and on the rare occasion a yogurt or maybe a piece of fresh fruit.

She resisted the temptation to go back to Mac’s for another one of those amazing pastries and crossed the street to Jacob’s Diner. When she walked inside, the only seats left were at the counter. She slid into the chair closest to the door.

Was it her imagination or was everyone staring at her?

That feeling reminded her way too much of being back in Belles Corner. Rather than ignore it, she ordered two coffees to go and whole wheat toast, plain. Of course, the two coffees would probably get their tongues wagging. Who was she with? Was it one of their own? Blah-blah-blah.

Too late. She’d already placed the order, and sure as heck people were still looking her way.

She picked up the complimentary copy of the
County
Gazette
from the counter and thumbed through it as she waited. The police blotter section caught her eye. She’d been bamboozled into that gig pretty quickly, but Connor seemed like a nice enough guy. How many lawyers would look out for their clients like that? Besides, she kind of hoped the police blotter would give her some more story ideas.

If she got these assignments done, she might just be lounging around on Evelyn’s dime.

Of course, Evelyn probably knew that would never happen. Savannah hadn’t taken a real vacation in the seven years they’d worked together. The busier she was, the better. She wasn’t sure if it was real ambition or a safety net, but either way it meant she was focused on work . . . all the time. She didn’t have time for friends or hobbies with the work schedule she kept. And she liked both better at arm’s distance anyway, no matter what Evelyn had to say about it.

At least using the information from the blotter, she could limit her interaction with the people in town. Evelyn was always saying that it was never a good idea to get to know the subjects of your story too well. That could make it harder to write an unbiased article, and then she’d have a second small town wanting to run her out of it.

Not that anyone here would even read the articles. Most of them didn’t look like the online-paper-reading type, and there was only local news in the
County
Gazette
. She skimmed through the entire paper as she waited, and she didn’t see even one news item picked up from the wire on all six pages of it. She flipped back to the police blotter.

The first report was “Resident on Valley Drive saw male duck.”

Savannah stifled a giggle.
The quack-quack kind, or is there a peeping Tom in this small town?
The list of speeding tickets was collapsed into a table. In- and out-of-state offenders, speeding, equipment violations, and other. The only details were a list of the local infringements—only a total of eight of those. She’d be able to report this without too much effort.

As she set the paper back on the counter for the next patrons, a family walked inside. The tall waitress with
LARA
embroidered across her blouse whisked them over to a table that had just been cleared and poured coffee for them.

Savannah did a double take. Darned if it wasn’t Cody Tuggle, and he was even hotter in person than he had been onstage. He was with a beautiful blonde and a little boy.

It was a nice diversion to feel like she wasn’t the center of attention as the room’s interest moved from her to the superstar and his little family.

She pretended to check the messages on her phone and snuck a couple of quick pictures of them. Couldn’t hurt to have them tucked away for later. Maybe there was a story there to tell.

“Here you go.” Lara came out with the two coffees and a bag full of condiments along with the toast. “I slipped in some of our apple butter for you to try. I know you said you wanted that toast plain, but we’re known for our apple butter, and it’s not even all that fattening. You’ve got room for the extra calories anyway.”

Savannah shoved her phone into her pocket. “Thanks. I’ll give it a try.”

“You’ll love it,” Lara said with a quick squeeze of Savannah’s arm.

“By the way, your nails look beautiful. Where do you get them done?”

“Nicole down at the Hair Station does them for me.” She wiggled her long fingers to show off the shiny lacquered nail color. “She’s the best. They do nails on Tuesdays and Thursdays. While you’re there, get Linda to wash your hair. Honey, that’s better than a spa treatment. She’ll scrub your head till you want to kick your leg like a coonhound. I swear.” She tugged a pen from her apron pocket and jotted the number right across one of the coffee cups. “There ya go. Just give her a call and tell her Lara sent ya. She’ll do you up right.”

“I appreciate that.” Savannah gathered the cups and bag. “And can you tell me where the nearest market is?”

Lara pointed behind them. “The Piggly Wiggly is right down that street.”

“Perfect,” Savannah said. They didn’t have Piggly Wiggly up in DC, but they did back in Belles Corner. They’d always referred to the market as the Hoggly Woggly back home. Tripp had asked her out on their first date when he was bagging her groceries at the Hoggly Woggly. Momma had been more excited than Savannah had that day, insisting on stopping for Diet Coke floats on the way home to celebrate Savannah being asked out on her first real date. Momma had loved to celebrate every little thing.

One time Momma had pulled her right out of school and taken her shopping for what she decided to call MD Day. Mother-Daughter Day. They bought carnations to match their outfits and had lunch at a fancy tea shop.

Savannah balanced the diner bag in her arms.

“I thought you were in a hurry to get out of town yesterday.”

She froze at the sound of the male voice. Was he going to pop up over her shoulder everywhere she went? She spun around and met Sheriff Calvin’s gaze. Any other time her mouth ran in overdrive, but at this moment it opened and nothing happened. Not a hello or even a witty comeback. She blinked to break the lock from his hazel eyes. The flecks of gold didn’t go unnoticed. She shook off a tickling feeling, like he had pulled her into his space without so much as the whisper of a touch.

Lara sauntered up with the coffeepot and a heavy ceramic mug. “Hey, Sheriff,” she said, letting the words linger in the air. She filled the mug to the brim and pushed it his way on the counter.

Savannah felt her lips twinge a little as she smiled. Guilt? Maybe for the topic of the article she was getting ready to write. “Change of plans. I’m sticking around for a little while.”

“Really? The parade was that impressive?”

“It was pretty good. Those bear claws are definitely worth a second look, though.”

Did he just give her a nod, as if she was worth one too? Or was she imagining things? His scrutiny had her feeling as warm as the bacon sizzling next to a heaping mound of hash browns on the open grill.

“Lara, here, hooking you up with her famous apple butter?”

“Yeah, she is. Got my coffee to go.” Why did she even say that?

“Can’t start the day without my coffee either.”

“I was just reading the police blotter while I was waiting. You’ve been busy. I had to laugh. It said . . . Wait a second.” She reached for the paper and swung the page back. She ran her finger down to the spot. “Yeah. Here it is.” She held it out in his direction. “See. Resident on Valley Drive saw male duck.” She let out a hearty laugh. “That just cracked me up. I’m sure they meant a male subject ducked below a window or something, not a quack-quack duck.” She laughed again, but he wasn’t smiling. Clearly he didn’t see the humor in it. He looked like she’d just said his momma wore combat boots or something. “Anyway, it’s not that big of a deal that it wasn’t clear.”
I should have stuck to the weather.

Sheriff Calvin looked rather stoic. “Actually, it’s right just the way it is. Misty Johnson saw a male duck. As in waterfowl, or of the quack-quack persuasion, in your words.

“Oh.” She pressed her lips together, unsure whether to apologize or just let it go.

“One of our 4-H’er’s projects flew the coop, and Misty was reporting that she’d found it in her backyard.”

“Sorry, I—”

“Yeah. We rescued the runaway duck. It’s a small town. Everything is not peepers, perps, and bad guys around here, but it’s all important to the people of this community.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“I know what you think, but that kid would have lost out on the opportunity to show at the county fair if we hadn’t helped locate that duck. I don’t consider that a waste of resources. In fact, I’m glad this town has so little real crime that we have time to support our neighbors in things like that. It may not seem like newsworthy to read over your coffee, but it’s important around here.”

Geez. Had she hit a sore spot or something? She totally should’ve stuck to the weather. What a grump.

“My apologies for making light of your work.” She slid to the side in an exaggerated manner, still clutching her bag with the two coffees and toast. “Maybe you should drink
your
coffee.”

He tugged the hat from his head and took a sip from the mug.

Goodness gracious, he was just handing her the column on a silver platter. H
ow do you even respond to a sheriff who is spending his time rescuing waterfowl?

“Well, all in a good day’s work. Don’t work too hard, Sheriff.”

She turned to leave, and as she opened the door to exit, she heard him call after her.