The Hunk Next Door (10 page)

But the gas lamp posts in each yard... Wow! Who had managed to get all of the neighbors to do that? Parking in her driveway, she got out of her car and admired the effect of wide red and white ribbons that turned each lamp post into a candy cane. Even hers. Happiness washed over her that whoever had come up with the idea had automatically included her. The effect was unifying yet neutral enough that it didn’t fight with the individual displays each family preferred. Belatedly, she noticed that even the tall generic streetlights at each end of the block were similarly decorated.

With the heart of Belclare becoming a Christmas Village each year, the residential areas joined in, too. It was a friendly competition within each neighborhood. Exhausted or not, she needed to get her own yard decorated before her neighbors gave up on her.

It had been smart to avoid dinner with Deke, and not just for his protection. She needed a hefty dose of something normal. With a smile for her decorated lamppost, she turned to face her house, thinking about what she could get done tonight. Deep down, part of her was still turning over the puzzle of who had broken into her garage and planted evidence.

The troubling thought had her whipping back around to have another look at Calder’s house. The lights were up across the roofline and draped over the shrubs. While many homes on her street went with white lights, for the past three seasons Calder and Libby deferred to their young daughter and created a colorful display. The inflatable snow globe was new, as was the Santa Stop Here sign on the chimney.

Calder couldn’t have done that. She’d visited with him in the hospital at lunchtime and the doctors didn’t plan to release him before tomorrow. Libby was pregnant. Abby sighed. She supposed another neighbor had stepped in. Not surprising.

“You like it? I thought the stop sign was a nice touch.”

Riley O’Brien had rounded the front corner of Calder’s house. He gestured to the tiny white icicle lights dripping prettily from the roofline. He’d wrapped the front windows with wide ribbon as if they were packages. That trademark grin spread across his face. The sleeves of his flannel shirt were rolled up. He held a tape measure in his hands and his tool belt slung low across his lean hips. He looked exactly like the carpenter he claimed to be.

Realization dawned on her. “This is all your doing, isn’t it?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I finished work early. I was bored.”

She surveyed Calder’s house again. The view was safer than staring with fascinated interest at her new neighbor. “Tell me you had help.” After last night, she didn’t like the idea of anyone working on a ladder alone. Not so close to where she lived anyway.

“Peg and Danny helped. Plus a few of the kids after the school bus dropped them off. It was a team effort.”

Danny wasn’t much more than a kid himself, so that made sense. “Peg?” Abby felt her jaw drop. “You’re kidding.” After the deep freeze she’d given Abby today, she was surprised the woman came anywhere near here. But, then, Calder was her friend, too.

“Not at all,” Riley assured her. “Peg came over to take a look at the kitchen and talk flooring. She did all the gas lamps. I think she got a kick out of pitching in.”

“Peg,” Abby repeated dumbly. It seemed impossible that the woman had decorated anywhere near Abby’s house rather than pummel it with eggs. “You’re like the Pied Piper,” Abby said with a shake of her head, “the way you get people to cooperate.”

“The nuns said Tom Sawyer, but it’s about the same, I guess.” He gave another careless hitch of his shoulder.

“Nuns?” Now she was really confused.

His gaze shifted to Calder’s place and back to her. “My teachers. Irish parents, remember? Catholic school’s practically a requirement. Our school did a lot of community outreach like repair work and local theater. We learned early that jobs were easier when more people got involved.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter what they said then, I’m grateful to you now. It looks beautiful.”

“I thought the street could use a mood lifter.”

“You thought right.”

He walked over and held up a shiny brass key. “Your lock is repaired and the new snow shovel is right inside the door.”

“Thanks,” she said, pulling out her key ring. Anything to keep her from gawking at the man making such a positive impact around her town. All evidence pointed to him as an asset, one of the good guys, but she couldn’t help wondering if she was being a fool to trust him so easily.

He tucked his hands into his pockets. “Any leads?”

“On which case?”

He shrugged. “Any or all of them.”

“No leads on anything. At this point, I’m lucky I still have a job.”

“It’s not your fault Belclare is under siege.”

She shook her head, tired of making zip for progress. “Under siege feels about right.” Abby indulged in a heartfelt sigh. “Unfortunately.”

As she’d gone through her day, his words had been in the back of her mind. Who would gain the most if she was gone or if she even backed down? There was no clear answer, but she knew he was right. The question had her considering almost everyone in town as a threat again. A position that danced on the edge of paranoia.

“How’s Calder?”

She turned, feeling her lips curve in a relieved smile. “Healing quickly enough to give the nursing staff a hard time.” She pulled out her phone to take a picture of his house. “He’ll be thrilled when he sees this.”

“Peg already did that,” Riley said.

“Oh.” She lowered her phone, feeling silly. “Of course she did.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind another one. All lit up at night it’s even better.”

“True.” She snapped the picture and sent it to Calder. “Well, I’d better get busy with my own yard or I’ll get the Grinch award.”

“Seriously? They give those out?”

“Well, it’s not an official thing.” She raised her arms wide, indicating the whole block. “But it’s real enough and I’m obviously way behind. When you live in Belclare, holiday spirit is kind of required.”

“Let me help.”

She waved an arm, indicating the entire block. “You’ve done plenty.”

He looked at her house, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’ll need a ladder.”

She clenched her teeth against the memory of last night. “There are other options.” She could just string lights over the bushes and around the doorway. A couple wreaths on the shutters would help. It wouldn’t be an award-winning display, but it would be enough. Maybe she’d pick up an inflatable ornament this year.

“I don’t think so. Whatever you have planned, you’re not working out here alone. Come with me.”

She automatically fell into step behind him, before she caught herself. “Wait. Who made you boss of the evening?”

When he turned, his mouth was twitching. “Which one of us is current on holiday decorating skills?”

“I have plenty of experience.”

“Great. Tell me what you want done and where the decorations are stored and I’ll do it for you. Even my boss says I’m the fastest guy on the team this year.”

No surprise. She’d heard nothing but praise when she’d called the company and checked up on him. “Congratulations, but helping me isn’t necessary.”

He stopped short right in the middle of their driveways and she nearly barreled into his chest. She sort of wished she had.

“Necessary or not, that’s how it’s going to be, Abby.”

The way he said her name made her feel like a completely different person. It made her want to step away from official roles and just be...herself. At least a slightly more relaxed version of herself. More like the person she’d been before the fallout from the drug bust.

“I wouldn’t do anything differently,” she said.

“Do you have a picture of how you did things before?”

“Yes, but I didn’t mean the decorations,” she clarified. “I was thinking about the drug bust.”

He rocked back on his heels and crossed his arms. She didn’t understand how he could look so comfortable in the chill of the evening in only his thermal and flannel shirts, jeans and boots. Maybe the tool belt had a heater built in. The thought that maybe
he
was the heater made her shiver.

Every time she saw him, he reinforced her growing opinion that he was a friendly, competent and kind man. The type of man a woman would be lucky to know. And that was the crux. Knowing her, being around her, could prove extremely unlucky for him. “You should just go on inside and take a break. I can handle it.”

“No.” He shook his head resolutely.

“Riley, please.”

He leaned down into her face until they were nearly nose to nose. “You’re stuck with my help. Deal with it.”

She could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes. Her gaze drifted lower, to his mouth. His lips tipped up at one corner and she forced her eyes back to his before he could tease her with that wicked grin. It didn’t help. He was staring at her mouth. She licked her lips, wondering how he would kiss. Slow and easy? Quick and hard? She’d be happy with either. Both even.

She stepped back before she gave in and found out. She didn’t want him to get hurt because some unidentified terrorist wanted to make her suffer. But he wasn’t backing down. Did that make him foolish or her careless for appreciating it?

“Okay. Fine.”

He straightened. “Glad you understand. Now, will you show me where you store the decorations?”

She tipped her head back toward the garage. “In the loft.”

“All right.” He walked to the bed of his truck and unlocked the storage bin on one side. “I’m grabbing a couple of work lights.”

“Good idea.” It would be dark as pitch in that garage loft.

She walked on back to the garage and tested out the key he’d given her for the new lock. It felt solid and worked smoothly. She expected nothing less. Everywhere he’d been in Belclare, people commented on his friendliness as well as his expertise with all kinds of odd jobs.

Inside, she flipped the switch, grateful for the light. The narrow space was big enough for her car, but she rarely parked in here, thinking it offered her neighbors a sense of security when she left the official sedan out in the driveway. After what happened to Calder, her neighbors probably felt differently now.

“Thinking about this morning?”

She wanted to kick something but checked the urge. “I don’t understand why anyone would so obviously plant evidence like that.”

“To get under your skin.”

“Well, it’s working. But I’m not letting these scumbags make me doubt what’s right.”

“Good.” He walked past her and reached for her stepladder, carrying it over to access the loft.

The clatter of the aluminum as he opened it and the legs settling securely on the cement floor made her swear.

“You okay?”

“I’m angry.” She drew in a big, deep breath. Didn’t help. “Calder’s an innocent bystander. Why don’t they just come at me?”

“A broken lock and planted evidence sounds to me like they are,” Riley said, climbing up a few rungs of the ladder until he could read the labels on the plastic boxes stored there. “Which ones do you want me to bring down?”

“The red box of wreaths and the green box of lights should do it.”

“You’re sure?”

“I can always add more when things settle down.”

His laughter bounced around the garage. “All things considered, I wouldn’t count on that happening anytime soon.”

She took the red box he handed down and set it on the floor. “Meaning?”

“Don’t jump all over me for stating the obvious.” He propped the green box on his shoulder as he came down the ladder. “Someone wants to get even with you or at least make a point that they’re above your attempts to enforce the law.”

If only she could figure out who. “We’ve been over all the evidence in the drug bust, interviewed all the employees and anyone resembling a witness.” As he replaced the ladder on the hooks, she picked up the red box and led the way out to the front yard. Riley followed with the heavier bin full of lights. “And we’re no closer to unraveling who’s really behind it all.”

She opened the bins and pulled out the pictures she’d taken of last year’s display while he plugged in the work lights.

He peered over her shoulder at the pictures, looked back at her house and then laughed.

“It looks that bad to your expert eye?” she asked, annoyed just a little.

“Not at all,” he said, taking a step back. “I’ve just never seen anyone so—” he shrugged “—organized.”

“Your dad taught you to swing a hammer—mine taught me to plan and document.” His face clouded over, but before she could ask him anything, he motioned for the paper and pictures.

“You want the same setup?” He glanced from the pictures to the bins at their feet to the front of her house.

“It’s simple, but pretty. No one complains.” She’d thought the wreaths on the shutters had framed her Christmas tree in the front window rather nicely last year. And the lit evergreen garland around her front door tied it all together.

“All right. Give me an hour.”

“I don’t believe in double standards. We’re doing this together.” The teamwork wasn’t just about safety.

“Want me to wait while you change clothes?”

“I’ll just get my boots from the back door. Give me a second.”

As they worked, she discovered she liked the company of the new guy in town. Give him time, she bemoaned, and he’d learn to hate her, too. Irritated with her uncharacteristic self-pity, she pulled out the garland for the door and its extension cord. She plugged it in, confirmed the lights were working and then handed the garland to him. “You should be able to reach this without the ladder.”

He arched an eyebrow but followed her over and, as she’d said, centered the garland on the hook above the door frame. When it was positioned to his satisfaction, she plugged it in again and smiled. “Perfect.”

“Thanks.” He took a theater-worthy bow. “What’s next?”

“I’ll start lighting the shrubs if you hang the wreaths on the shutters.”

“Deal.”

Under the glare of the work lights they finished transforming her home in record time. He made a few little changes and she liked the improved overall effect. “You are good at this,” she said as he packed up the work lights.