Between a Book and a Hard Place (12 page)

I was uncertain as to why he was in the voc-ed program, since he'd made it clear he'd be attending the University of Central Missouri's software engineering program when he graduated. Maybe he planned on owning his own company and wanted practical experience in running a small business.

He watched me refilling the book rack for a minute, then asked, “Are you okay, Dev?” Taryn tilted his head, and his wire-rimmed glasses slipped down his nose.

“I'm fine.”

“Then why are you putting the new Stephen King book where the romances go?” Taryn was a keen observer and a voracious reader.

“Well, horror and romance have a lot in common. Neither is too realistic and both can keep you up at night.” My feeble attempt to distract Taryn with witty repartee didn't work. The boy had no sense of humor. Or at least, none that I'd been able to find.

“True.” Taryn narrowed his eyes. “I hadn't thought about it like that, but you're right. Maybe I'll use that premise for my next English paper.”

“Probably not a good idea.”
Hell!
I couldn't let the poor guy do that. I doubted his teacher would buy the idea, and he'd end up with a failing grade because of me.

My day didn't improve when the phone rang at eleven thirty. It was Noah, and he said, “I am so
sorry about your stepfather, Dev. And I wish I could be there for you, but we have an emergency.”

“Oh.” I cringed. What had happened now? Was his mother acting up again?

“One of the patients in my waiting room just went into labor.” He paused to give someone on his end several lengthy directions, then said, “I need to accompany her to the hospital.”

“I understand.” How could I be upset with a doctor saving a life?

“Sorry. Elexus has her hands full at the clinic. The patient is two months early and a high-risk pregnancy.” He paused again. I heard a commotion, and then he said quickly, “I've got to go. The ambulance is here. I'll call you when I get back to town.”

He hung up before I could answer, which was just as well. There was nothing to say. He had his obligations and I had mine. Several of which were awaiting my attention. So instead of an intimate lunch with Noah, I dealt with unreliable vendors, disgruntled customers, and a three-year-old shoplifter who grabbed a candy bar and shoved it into his mouth before his mother could stop him.

The frustrations continued to mount, and I was close to locking myself in the bathroom and screaming when my father arrived at three fifty-five. He took one look at my scowling face and wrapped me in a hug.

I enjoyed the novel sensation of having my dad around to comfort me again, then eased out of his embrace and, as casually as I could, said, “I missed seeing you at breakfast. Did you sleep in?”

On Wednesdays, when the store was open in the evening to accommodate one of my craft groups,
instead of his usual morning shift, my father came in from four to eight.

“No.” He raised a brow, indicating that I wasn't fooling him. “I had an appointment with my parole officer over in Kansas City at nine, so I had to leave early in case traffic was heavy.”

“Did you make it in time?”

“Yep.” Kern smiled. “And afterward, I treated myself to a nice lunch and a matinee of the latest Bruce Willis Die Hard movie.” As I opened my mouth, he added, “It wasn't as much fun alone, but it was still nice.”

I hid my relief that Dad hadn't been with Yvette, but the twinkle in Dad's eyes said that he knew what I'd been thinking. He pecked me on the cheek and headed toward the storeroom to put his things away before starting to work.

As I watched him walk away, I went over to the soda fountain and poured myself a cup of coffee. I had just settled on a stool when the sleigh bells over the entrance jingled. I twisted my seat toward the sound and my heart sped up. Six feet four of hot man strode through the door. And this time Jake was alone.

J
ake threw his leg over the stool next to mine, and I said, “I'm surprised to see you here. I thought you were going to call.” Trying to ignore the electricity zipping between us, I asked, “What's up?”

“After I introduced the health aide to Meg and got him squared away, I hightailed it away from the ranch so fast that my pickup left skid marks in the gravel.” Jake's smile was both devastating and contagious. “I was hoping we could talk to some folks about your stepfather's murder.”

“How did Meg take the change in nursing staff?” I sipped my coffee and watched Jake's reaction from behind my cup.

“She was screaming fit to be tied, but the aide said that was normal and he'd handle it. I sure hope the poor fellow has earplugs.” A dimple at the corner of Jake's lips appeared. “Tony and Ulysses decided this was a good evening to go eat barbecue in Sparkville and catch the latest action movie.”

“Smart men.” I traced the rim of my cup with my index finger.

“Yep. That they are.” Jake leaned back, propping his elbows on the counter. “So what do you say we do some investigating, then grab a bite to eat at the new Mexican place out near the highway?”

“I wish I could, but this is my late night at the store,” I reminded him.

“Can't your father cover for you?” Jake coaxed. “I'm hoping to get some info from the dispatcher about what the police have on the case.”

“I'm sure Miss Perky Boobs will tell you a lot more without me there.” I bared my teeth in a fake smile. The woman had practically gotten on her knees in front of Jake the last time we were at the PD together.

“I thought you could talk to your friend Chief Kincaid while I charmed Bambi.”

Bambi wasn't her real name, but Jake had explained that it was a tag the marshals use for a woman whose IQ is less than her bra size.

“The chief is only my pal when I have something to trade,” I retorted, then remembered the gossip I'd caught that morning and murmured, “I wonder if Chief Kincaid heard the rumor going around that Jett was killed to stop the library from opening.”

“Why would anyone want to do that?” Jake's dark brows drew together.

I gave Jake the short version of Emma and Angie's conversation.

“Who was it that this housekeeper overheard complaining about the library?'

“The women talking never mentioned a name.” I grinned and elbowed Jake. “Guess you'll have to go out to the club and poke around.”

His normally tanned cheeks paled. The last time
Jake had tried to get information from the country club ladies, the cougars had nearly made him the main course on their hot-guy menu.

“Back to tonight's agenda.” Jake's chiseled face relaxed into a sexy smile. “Now that you do have something to trade with the chief, how about going with me to the PD and using it to find out what he knows?”

“I'm not sure Dad is ready to handle Blood, Sweat, and Shears by himself.” I bit my lip. “That group might eat him alive.”

“If Kern survived prison”—Jake twirled the brim of his cowboy hat on his finger—“he can manage a ladies' sewing circle.”

With Winnie Todd as the club's president, I wasn't so sure. Still, it was probably worth the risk to get to the bottom of Jett's murder. Just because the chief hadn't questioned my father yet didn't mean he wasn't building his case before he pounced.

When I'd spoken to Yvette earlier in the afternoon, she'd informed me that there was a police car sitting in front of her condo, watching her. I'd advised her to stay home and hibernate. She'd giggled at my suggestion and informed me that she had nothing to hide. It had taken all my self-control not to laugh in her face.

“There's one other person I should talk to ASAP.” Jake broke into my thoughts. “And I know you'll want to be along for that conversation.”

“Who?” I didn't like the tiny grin playing around Jake's lips.

“Nadine Underwood.” Jake grabbed the cup from my hand and chugged the rest of my coffee. “Tony overheard her and one of her CDM friends saying that your stepfather needed to stop poking his nose
in places it didn't belong or he'd be sorry. I'd sure like to know what places those are and why Nadine was so bent out of shape about it.”

“I would, too.” My father's voice startled me. I hadn't noticed him come out of the back room. “That woman is always up to something.”

Jake and I both swiveled our stools to look at him. He stood by the register, frowning, with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“You go with Jake,” Dad ordered in a tone I wasn't used to hearing. “I'll handle the sewing ladies and close the store for you.”

“But—” I protested.

“Devereaux Sinclair,” Dad interrupted, crossing his arms and staring at me, “surely you have enough faith in me to let me sell refreshments without your supervision?”

Giving in, I didn't quite meet his eyes when I said, “Of course I do.” My father had played the trust card, and after how I'd behaved when he was wrongly convicted and sent to prison, there was no way I could do anything but agree to his wishes.

“Good. I promise to straighten up afterward.” Dad nodded to himself, then said, “Since you won't let me see her or call her, check on your mother while you're at it.”

“Okay.” I smiled at Dad, then turned to Jake and frowned. “But I'm not going to blindside Noah by popping in on Nadine without warning him.”

“Look at it this way.” Jake lowered his voice. “If it's his mother getting into trouble versus your father returning to prison, who wins?”

“Dad.” I sighed. “But I'm still sending Noah a text. I'm sure he won't interfere, and he deserves to know what's happening.”

“Maybe.” Jake shrugged. “But Underwood has a history of caving in to his mother.”

“Not lately,” I argued. Jake didn't have to remind me about Noah's past betrayals. It wasn't something I was likely to forget. Raising a brow, I lasered a sharp look in Jake's direction. “But we all have obligations that interfere with our personal lives.”

“Some of us have seen what's really important and made the necessary adjustments.” Jake's gaze burned me like a branding iron.

Unwilling to allow him to distract me, I stood and said, “We're wasting time. Chief Kincaid usually heads home for dinner by five and it's four forty, so if we want to talk to him, we need to get going. Let me grab my purse and I'll meet you out front.”

The Shadow Bend PD was located between the hardware store and the dry cleaner. Jake and I made the short walk across the square in silence. I had no idea what was going through
his
mind, but I was thinking about my aversion to entering the police station.

The building's square cinder-block structure, recently installed front window bars, and overall crushing atmosphere reminded me of where my dad had been incarcerated.

Which was a problem for me, because during my one and only visit to the penitentiary, I'd developed a sort of claustrophobia that kicked in whenever I stepped into anything that resembled a prison. It had been hard enough yesterday, but I'd been nervous about what Mom was saying to the cops and the distraction had been enough to get me inside without fainting. Today I had nothing to worry about except the oversexed dispatcher tackling Jake
and having her way with him. I was fairly certain he could avoid that touchdown, and if he didn't, I'd put on my helmet and intercept her myself.

Before I was ready, we were in front of the station and Jake had opened the door for me. Although the anxiety I felt had lessened somewhat with my father's release, my chest tightened and I still experienced a moment of panic as I walked through the entrance.

I was in the process of working myself into a full-on state of alarm, when I was sidetracked by the crowd of strangers milling around the lobby, wearing odd costumes and carrying posters. I paused and nudged Jake, then pointed to a sign that read,
EARTH WELCOMES OUR NEW INTERGA
LACTIC FRIENDS. BEAM
ME UP, KHRELAN NAZE.

Jake snorted and continued his march toward the short flight of concrete stairs that led into the rest of the station. I followed, scowling when I spotted Nympho Barbie behind the counter. Jake's luck was holding out. The dispatcher manning the desk behind bulletproof glass was the same one who had practically drooled on his cowboy boots the last time we were here together.

Seeing Jake, she licked her lips, unfastened the top button on her uniform shirt, and slid the window open. She leaned forward, exposing enough cleavage to hide an aircraft carrier, and drawled, “Well, if it isn't Marshal Hottie.” She fluttered her false eyelashes and pouted. “I'm mad at you. You were supposed to call me for drink.”

“Was I, darlin'?” Jake rested a hip against the desk and smiled seductively. “I'm sorry if I broke my word to you. That's not right.”

“I'll forgive you this time.” She sucked on her finger. “'Cause you didn't exactly promise, and I'm sure she”—the dispatcher jerked her chin at me—“keeps you on a mighty tight leash.”

It was all I could do not to tell her exactly what I thought about women like her. If I didn't watch it, I'd end up in an anger-management class. Of course, I wouldn't need to manage my anger if other people would just learn to manage their stupidity.

Jake shot me a smirk, then said to Ms. Boobs, “Dev here needs to talk to the chief. And while she's busy, maybe you and I can have a little chat, too. You know, catch up on what's been happening.”

“I might be able to arrange that.” Her sultry tone made it clear that in her mind, chat was another word for getting naked and doing him. “Chief Kincaid's hiding out in his office. He told me to let him know when the alien hunters leave the building.”

“We saw them in the lobby.” Jake flashed her a sexy smile, his straight white teeth gleaming. “What do they want with the chief?”

“Permission to camp in the town square until ET shows up.” The dispatcher fluffed her bottle-blond curls and allowed her gaze to sweep every delectable inch of Jake's six-foot-four frame. “Their weirdo leader was here earlier, but he cut out after the chief threatened to lock him up for trespassing on private property. Seems there've been several complaints.”

“Yeah. He's been nosing around my uncle's ranch,” Jake murmured, then said, “So how about Dev goes on back and talks to Chief Kincaid and you and I get better acquainted?”

“Sounds good.” She winked at Jake, then shook a long pink fingernail at him and said, “You stay right here, handsome.” Flipping open the counter,
she pointed at me and marched off, shouting over her shoulder, “If you want to see the chief, get the lead out!”

Biting my tongue, I followed her down the hall, nearly hypnotized by the sway of her backside moving to some primal rhythm only she could hear. Once again, it had been a bit unsettling to witness Jake turn on the charm in order to get what he wanted. It made me wonder how sincere he was in our relationship.

Miss Bodacious Tatas knocked on the chief's door, then opened it and announced, “That dime store woman is here to see you.” When Chief Kincaid grunted his okay, she turned on her heel and hurried away.

As I stepped into the chief's lair, I heard her deliberately raised voice float down the hall. “Sugar, now that the ball and chain is taken care of, you and I can really get to know one another.”

It took considerable self-control not to run back there and throttle her. She was one of those folks who really needed a hug around the neck . . . with a piano wire.

Instead, I gritted my teeth and greeted Eldridge Kincaid. His uniform was as starched and pressed as if he'd just started his shift, but his face sagged with exhaustion and his eyes were bloodshot. Clearly, handling a murder and a mob of extraterrestrial chasers at the same time was getting to him.

Once I was settled in a chair facing his desk, the chief said, “What can I do for you, Dev? Did you remember something you noticed when you discovered your stepfather's body?”

“I wish I could help you with that, but no.” I sat forward, put my palms on the desktop, and tried to
use some of my own charm. “I know this case is difficult for you and I appreciate that you haven't brought in my father. I'm afraid the people around here who still think he should be in prison would stir up trouble for him if it looked as if he's one of your suspects.”

“I've been keeping that in mind.” The chief laced his hands and stretched. “But I will have to speak to him soon. I've just been waiting for the crime lab to finish up the forensics before I do.”

“Would it be possible to drive out to the house in your personal vehicle and speak to him there?” I asked, knowing I was pushing his friendship with my father to the limit. “Or maybe stop by the store tomorrow morning and meet with him in the storage room?”

“That would work.” Chief Kincaid rubbed the back of his neck.

“Thank you.” Despite his quarrel with my best friend and his rigidity, I liked Eldridge Kincaid. I admired his dedication to his job and his loyalty.

“I did reinterview your mother today.” The chief tented his fingers and gazed at me impassively. “Her memory is as bad as yours.”

“Maybe it's not our memory as much as it is that we just didn't see anything,” I countered, glad Mom had evidently stuck to the designated story.

“Yvette denied knowing anything about her husband's business or finances, which surprised me.” Chief Kincaid tapped his chin. “I would have thought his money would be high on her radar, but she claimed that as long as her credit cards worked she didn't care about the details.”

“That sounds about right.” If the chief thought I would try to defend my mother's morals, he was
sorely mistaken. “I'm guessing Mom didn't have any knowledge of what Jett was researching, either.”