Shoreline Drive (16 page)

Although that could just be the way Matt was looking at her, and the catch in her breath when he bent his head toward hers …

And of course, that was the exact moment that a pair of high beams flooded over them like a cartoon spotlight.

Hoping against hope that her luck would hold out and it would be Merry again, on another midnight lullaby tour of the island, Taylor squinted into the bright headlights as the driver’s side door opened.

“Do you kids know you’re trespassing?” asked a woman’s voice … but it definitely wasn’t Merry. In a single stomach-sinking instant, Taylor identified the voice as belonging to Sheriff Andie Shepard.

“Run!” Taylor dropped the bottle and scrambled to her feet and lit out for the line of trees at the edge of the salt marsh bordering the cove. After only a second, she realized she was running alone.

Looking over her shoulder, Taylor gasped. Matt was being handcuffed by the tall lady sheriff, his broad shoulders blocking her view of Taylor’s escape. Indecision clutched at Taylor’s throat, but when Sheriff Shepard crouched and picked up the half-empty bottle of rum, a numb despair settled over Taylor.

The thought of how disappointed her father would be nearly brought her to her knees, but she forced her legs to carry her back to the scene of the crime.

Maybe she was a bad influence, but she wasn’t a bad person. She couldn’t let Matt take all the blame for this adventure. Especially since it was really all her fault.

By the time she was following Matt into the one-room station house, Taylor’s resolve was weakening. After one hissed, “Why did you come back? I would have covered for you!” from Matt while they sat in the backseat of the SUV waiting for the sheriff to get around to the driver’s seat, they hadn’t spoken.

With Sheriff Shepard’s calm, stern presence in the front seat and Matt’s tension-filled form beside her, Taylor hadn’t been able to think of anything to say other than, “I’m sorry.”

But being sorry was usually a waste of time, and Matt obviously didn’t want to hear anything from her, anyway. He barely even glanced at Taylor as Sheriff Shepard uncuffed them and gestured to a pair of chairs in front of the battered metal desk in the corner.

Instead of sitting down at the desk, Sheriff Shepard leaned against it and stared down at them with an expression Taylor couldn’t quite decipher. Regretful, maybe, as if she weren’t enjoying hauling two teenagers in for processing … but calm, too. Regret wasn’t going to stop Andie Shepard from doing her duty as she saw it.

“Tell me who I should call to come pick you two up,” Sheriff Shepard said brusquely, hooking her thumbs in the belt loops of her tan uniform pants.

Taylor perked up. Maybe they weren’t being charged after all! Thinking quickly, she wished with a sudden ache that she could call Jo. But with Ella’s return to the island, Jo had both of her real daughters to keep her busy.

“Your parents?” Sheriff Shepard prompted. “Taylor, of course I know your dad.”

Taylor froze in panic while the sheriff eyed Matt coolly. “But what about you, Mr. Little? I haven’t seen your mom at the Firefly the last few days. Is she out of town?”

“Yes,” Matt confirmed, his voice slightly muffled as he slouched low in the uncomfortable plastic chair. “My mom’s cousin is staying at the house with me. You can call him. Sam Brennan.”

Sheriff Shepard reached for the old-fashioned rotary phone on her desk, but before she could do more than put the receiver to her ear, Taylor unfroze and blurted out, “Don’t call my dad!”

A flicker of sympathy flashed through the sheriff’s bright blue-green eyes, but her voice was very firm when she replied, “I have to, Taylor. You know the drill.”

Taylor winced. She did know the drill, but after the last time, she’d promised her father he’d never have to come down here to pick her up, ever again. She’d meant it with every inch of herself at the time, and she’d do just about anything to keep that promise now.

“No, I know,” she improvised. “But he’s out of town, too. Business trip.”

Sheriff Shepard narrowed her eyes. “Then who should I call?”

Inspiration struck. “My sister,” Taylor said, twining her fingers together to hide the fact that they were trembling a little. “Merry Preston. I have her cell number in my phone. Please?”

Studying her for a long moment with those uncannily ocean-colored eyes, Sheriff Shepard seemed to pierce straight through Taylor’s mask of bravado to see the scared kid underneath. Taylor did her best to sit up tall in the chair and meet the sheriff’s gaze head-on, but it wasn’t easy.

When the woman nodded decisively and held out her hand for the cell phone, Taylor let out a silent breath of relief. Glancing over at Matt, she felt a pang at the obvious misery on his face.

Taking advantage of the sheriff’s back being turned to make her calls, Taylor nudged her chair closer to Matt’s. When he looked up, she tried out a smile.

He didn’t smile back. “My mom is going to kill me,” he muttered. “No, worse than that. She’s going to be disappointed in me.”

Gut wrenching with guilt, Taylor clutched at the plastic arms of the chair to keep from reaching out to him. “I’m sorry. The whole thing was my fault, it was all my idea. I’ll take the blame.”

For the first time since the sheriff showed up, a spark flared to life in Matt’s worried hazel eyes. “Don’t you dare. We’re in this together.”

“Together,” Taylor echoed, giddy happiness unspooling inside her like a perfect line of computer code.

Maybe tonight wasn’t a total disaster, she told herself with an unfamiliar burst of optimism. All she’d wanted was a chance to be close to Matt Little—and here they were, side by side. And if Merry extended her display of coolness about sneaking out to keeping this little incident from Taylor’s dad, then she was golden.

But when the front door of the sheriff’s office crashed open fifteen minutes later, it wasn’t Merry’s petite, slim form walking in beside a thunderously scowling Sam Brennan.

It was her father.

Taylor barely registered the fact that Jo Ellen Hollister was with him. For the space of a heartbeat, all she could see was the weary resignation in her father’s eyes, the stern set of his mouth behind his salt-and-pepper beard.

“Mr. McNamara.” Sheriff Shepard stood up, casting Taylor a look. “Home early from your business trip, I see.”

“What business trip?” Dad stopped short, just inside the doorway, his stare locked on Taylor in a way that made her want to slide off the chair and down through the cracked linoleum floor.

Shaking her head, the sheriff crossed her arms over her chest. “Not important. It’s good that you’re here. Thanks for coming. You, too, Jo Ellen. And Mr.… Brennan, was it?”

“Sam Brennan. Matt, get your stuff. We’re going home,” Sam growled, drawing Taylor’s attention. She stared at the way he was scowling at the sheriff, face hard as granite. He was almost unrecognizable as the big, gentle-eyed man who’d brought Java to Windy Corner Stables that afternoon.

If she met Sam Brennan in a dark alley in this kind of mood, Taylor realized with a half-pleasurable thrill, she’d run the other way.

Sheriff Shepard didn’t appear to be intimidated, although her focus had narrowed to Sam’s livid face. “I’m afraid Matt isn’t going anywhere yet. Not until we have a little chat.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Sam planted his feet, solid as an oak tree. “Matt is a good kid. Never been in trouble a day in his life. This is obviously some kind of mistake. Or a case of overzealous police work. Slow night for crime in Mayberry, Officer? Bored of giving tickets to wild horses for running too fast?”

The fascination of this exchange was almost enough to distract Taylor from her own situation. Sam Brennan had balls of solid brass, going after Sheriff Shepard that way. Taylor was seriously impressed.

Sheriff Shepard wasn’t. In spite of the fact that she didn’t move or flush or clench her hands into fists, Taylor was willing to bet the sheriff’s fingers were itching to go for her gun. She kept it all locked down, though, her voice as cool and unruffled as the surface of Lantern Lake at dawn.

“As duly elected sheriff of Sanctuary Island,” she stressed slightly, “I’m aware of Matt’s record. Or lack thereof. But that doesn’t change the fact that he was caught trespassing on the wild horse preserve property at Heartbreak Cove. With a bottle of rum.”

Sam stiffened, so clearly angry that his brown hair almost seemed to stand on end. “He wasn’t alone, was he?”

“Wait just a minute,” Jo broke in, hands on her hips. “What are you implying, Sam?”

For an instant, Sam looked tempted to back down, but then he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Jo. But you’ve mentioned your girl’s issues in the past—the trouble she’s been in. You know the rum was probably hers. Matt doesn’t deserve to get dragged into that.”

“Sam, don’t.” Matt spoke up, sending another thrill through Taylor, but the thrill was dampened by the knowledge that Sam was actually right. She’d messed up, big-time.

As if they hadn’t even heard Matt, the four adults kept arguing. Taylor’s dad jumped in with, “You weren’t there. For all we know, that boy is the one who talked my daughter into this escapade. It’s been a long time since Taylor was in any trouble, she’s matured a lot in the last year.” He paused, scrubbing a defeated hand over his mouth. “At least, I thought she had.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad.” Taylor sank down in her chair, feeling lower than the gritty sand on the bottom of her shoes.

But she should’ve kept her mouth shut, because now Dad was looking at her. Facing the full force of his disappointment was enough to make Taylor feel lower than dirt.

“What happened, Tay?” Jo asked softly. “I thought things were going so well.”

Anger burned through her, cleansing as fire, and a lot easier to handle than guilt and regret. “Of course you think everything’s going great now. You have your real daughters back.”

“Oh, honey.”

Taylor got a sick kind of satisfaction out of the hurt, horrified look on Jo’s face.

“Your real daughters, by the way, totally suck,” Taylor told her. The betrayal actually stung. Taylor latched on to it, glad for the chance to be the injured party. “I thought Merry was marginally cool, but no—she ratted me out the first chance she got.”

Surprisingly, it wasn’t Jo who defended Merry, but Dad. “She did exactly the right thing by calling me. I would’ve hoped you’d have the guts to face the music for this stupid stunt instead of imposing on a woman who’s got her hands full with a concussed fiancé and a newborn.”

Taylor sucked in a breath. She’d completely forgotten about Doc Fairfax’s injury. She was officially the worst.

“And the worst of it is that you broke your word to me,” Dad said, relentless. “After what happened with the Rigby boy, you promised me you’d abide by my rules about dating. You looked me in the eye and promised me.”

Eyes burning and throat closing around a knot of desperate shame, Taylor cried, “It wasn’t a date! We’re just friends.”

Which was true, even if she’d hoped for more, but she couldn’t bear the weight of yet another broken promise. Refusing to even glance in Matt’s direction, Taylor kept all her attention on her father’s face and the slight softening she saw there.

But every cell in her body was aware of Matt going tense and still beside her.

Sheriff Shepard spoke into the highly charged silence that followed. “Let’s all take a breath, here. Taylor and Matt are both in trouble. I have to charge them both with trespassing and underage drinking.”

Chaos erupted as Dad and Sam Brennan tried to outshout each other and Jo did her best to play referee, but Sheriff Shepard shut them all up by raising one hand and clearing her throat.

“The law is clear,” she repeated, inflexible as steel. Her blue-green gaze darted to Sam Brennan for an instant as she said, “Taylor and Matt might be good kids, but they broke the law. And while some of you may feel that the rules shouldn’t apply to you or your family, I’m afraid I can’t agree.”

Another uproar. Beside her, Matt groaned and slumped over his knees. Guilt ripped at Taylor’s heart.

But just as she opened her mouth, prepared to enrage her father by at least taking the blame for the bottle of rum, the sheriff pinned her with a look. She shook her head slightly, and Taylor’s mouth snapped closed.

“They’ll both be charged,” Sheriff Shepard said, “but since they’re both minors, there’s every likelihood of Judge Barrow opting for rehabilitation over a harsher sentence.”

“I bet you hate that,” Sam Brennan snarled through clenched teeth. “Just think, if you’d only waited a few years to throw the book at these kids, they could be tried as adults.”

Finally, a snap of temper flashed in the sheriff’s eyes. “Mr. Brennan. I’m sure it’s more comfortable for you to blame me than it is to take any responsibility for the fact that you were supposed to be looking after your young relative in the absence of his mother, but I don’t appreciate your tone.”

A muscle ticked under the close-cropped beard scruffing along Sam’s jaw. “I don’t give a damn what you appreciate. Do what you have to do, fine us or whatever, but I’m taking Matt home now.”

Sheriff Shepard reached across her desk to grab a stack of paperwork. “Fill this out. I’ll be in touch. Or someone from the courthouse will.”

Sam and Taylor’s dad both took the papers. Dad, an old hand at this, signed his name and handed the paper back, but Sam sat down to read carefully through every line of the document releasing Matt into his custody.

“Thanks.” The sheriff nodded at Jo and Dad, then cocked an eyebrow at Taylor. “You can go. And I hope this is the last time we see each other like this.”

Taylor locked eyes with the sheriff and straightened her shoulders. She’d hated the previous sheriff, a fat, old guy who’d pursed his mouth disapprovingly whenever he saw Taylor around town. But she liked Andie Shepard. Taylor liked that the new sheriff talked to her like she was a grown-up, not a dumb kid who couldn’t understand what she’d done or what the consequences might be. It made Taylor want to act like it.

“I swear, I’ve learned my lesson,” Taylor vowed, meaning it with all her heart. “No more breaking the law.”