The Sheriff Meets His Match (2 page)

B
y the time
she pulled into the snow-laden parking lot at the sheriff’s office, Laurel’s temper had cooled along with the temperature outside. She shivered as she hurried toward the front doors. Her synthetic fur jacket was poor protection against the biting wind. And she’d left southern Florida for this. Maybe she
was
just as crazy as the rest of her eccentric family.

Head down to protect her uncovered face, she rounded the corner of the building and ran straight into a bulky chest. She would have bounced backward if not for the gloved hands that reached out and grasped her arms.

The startled laugh died in her throat when she looked up and met the gaze of the very man she’d been avoiding for the last week and a half, her Uncle Max.

“There you be, I’ve been lookin’ for ya everywhere, me darlin’.” His Irish heritage rang through his voice and in the ruddy handsomeness of his face. Blessed with bright blue eyes and thick dark hair, Max had never lacked charisma. Integrity, yes, charisma, no.

Her heart pounding, Laurel gave him a quick hug and stepped out of his reach, sending a nervous glance over her shoulder. She needed to get rid of him before anyone spotted them together, especially Jack. He was far too perceptive not to notice the family resemblance, even though her coloring was much fairer than that of the Black Irish side of the family. They all shared the same high cheekbones and stubborn chins. Max was her mother’s older brother and took his duties as patriarch seriously. Laurel just wished he would find an honest way of supporting all of them instead of what he’d chosen for a living—scam artist extraordinaire.

“Uncle Max, what are you doing here?” She wanted to scream her frustration. Why couldn’t he have worked his dirty schemes back home and left her out of it for a change?

“Well, lass, where else would I be? We’re a team, you and I, we needs ta stick together.” His tone was placating, but his eyes held a crafty sparkle within their depths.

Yeah, he needed her to save his butt whenever he got in over his head, which was like—always.

“Did you follow me this morning?” she asked, her head tipped to the side suspiciously.

He looked genuinely confused. “No. If’n I’d followed ya, I’d a known where you was, wouldn’t I?”

Laurel sighed. The old goat had a good heart; he just couldn’t resist running his get-rich quick schemes—most of which left them poorer than when they’d started. But lying to the family wasn’t one of his many faults, so that meant he was telling the truth about following her. All of which left her wondering, who
had
been chasing her?

Whoever it was, they’d almost run her off the road before she managed to lose them. Her old car might not look like much, but it had a kickass motor under its hood thanks to her brother, Gabe.

“Let’s go for a coffee, Uncle. I don’t know about you but I’m freezing.” Laurel turned and led the way back to her car, anxious to leave before the sheriff arrived.

“Don’t you have to get to work?” Max huffed as he struggled to keep up with her long strides.

Yeah, she did. “It’s okay, my boss is a pussycat.” More like a mountain lion. One prepared to pounce on his prey at the least sign of weakness. She refused to allow that to happen to either Max or herself.

They’d just started across the parking space, escape in sight under a growing mound of fluffy white stuff, when a cruiser pulled into the lot.

Damn.

She was tempted to ignore Jack and leave anyway, but one look at his grim visage changed her mind. She couldn’t afford to let him think she was hiding anything, or anyone.

“Let me handle this, Uncle Max.”
Please, oh please, don’t screw this up.

“Whatever you say, darlin’,” he agreed, his eyes fixed on the big man climbing out of the cop car.

Laurel set her hands on her hips and faced the sheriff with false bravado, chin in the air.

“Hey, boss.” She might as well fire the opening salvo.

He hesitated, then tipped his hat back on his forehead and ignored her to check her uncle out. The two men sized each other up as though they were prizefighters about to go a few rounds in the cage. Keeping his gaze fixed on the older man, Jack unbuttoned his coat far enough to make sure Max saw his badge.

Laurel stiffened. She hurried into speech to bridge the lengthening silence. “Sheriff, this is my Uncle Max. Max, this is my
boss
.” She emphasized the last word in an attempt to stop the upcoming skirmish. Not that it worked.

“Sheriff, mighty fine town you have ’ere.” Max thrust out his hand. “Too bad you’ve bin ahavin’ so much trouble with the criminal element.”

“Max,” Laurel warned, and shrugged when Jack gave her the look. “He didn’t hear it from me.”

It wasn’t her fault the townspeople liked to gossip, especially with sensationalist stories including local celebrities like the Fowlers. A fatal incident and abduction at the Twilight Theatre just after Laurel arrived in town had provided plenty of chin-wagging at the Grits and Grace Cafe.

Jack let go of her uncle’s hand and pointed toward her car. “I thought you might rethink getting your car seen to, so I went around by Gus’s, but
no,
apparently you like freezing to death.”

Max turned her way. “What’s wrong, luv? I thought Gabriel gave her an overhaul before you left home?”

Laurel noticed Jack’s lowering brows and hastened to change the subject. “I’m going for a coffee break to Grace’s, boss. Want me to bring you back anything?”

Just as she’d hoped, her words got Jack’s dander up. “What do you mean, you’re going for coffee? You haven’t even started work yet.”

Suppressing her grin, she eased away while tugging on Max’s arm. “No worries, I’ll catch up in no time.” Her relief at escaping without an interrogation was short-lived.

“While you’re out, stop at Gus’s. I told him to expect you.”

Dratted man.

* * *

J
ack ignored
the snow drifting down around him while he watched Laurel and her uncle haphazardly clean off her car before jumping in and starting the engine. The ugly little car had something big under the hood, given away by the throaty growl when she fired it up.

There was something funny going on with those two. She’d practically tugged the old man’s arm off trying to make their escape. And why hadn’t she mentioned anything about having family nearby? Jack wasn’t even sure where her home was. He didn’t remember Angie mentioning it when she’d come to him with the fait accompli of a new hire while she went off on a long awaited vacation.

Laurel gave the car some gas and spun the wheels. He hid his grin behind a frown and crossed his arms over his chest. She let off the throttle and glided slowly past with a little wave and toot of a sickly sounding horn. Then they were around the corner and gone, the snow quickly erasing any sign of her presence.

As if it would be that easy.

Ever since she’d shown up in his office with her crazy pile of sticky notes she liked to plaster on every available surface, he hadn’t been able to get her off his mind. She irritated him with her disorganization. He was used to having a place for everything, and everything in its place, but with Laurel, that rule went out the window.

He was intrigued with her secretive honey-colored eyes, sleek womanly body, and long golden-red hair. He didn’t like the churning inside whenever she was near and was determined to avoid her, but still seemed to find excuses to be close. His threatening glares warned off any would-be suitors in the department, much to his embarrassment and his staff’s delight. Everyone expected him to ask her out, but Jack refused to get involved. He’d pegged Laurel for high maintenance with her fancy clothes and girly ways. He’d been down that road and had the daughter to prove it, so no thanks.

And besides, who the hell was Gabriel?

L
aurel watched
her uncle pour half a bottle of maple syrup over a stack of plate-sized pancakes topped with three sunny-side eggs, and shuddered. Any appetite she had for her own breakfast of French toast disappeared. She pushed the dish aside and reached for her coffee, cradling the cup in still cold fingers.

“Not hungry, girlie?” Max asked around a mouthful of food.

She smiled over his obvious enjoyment with the sweet feast. The way he ate he should weigh a ton, instead his waist was as trim as that of an active man half his age. It wasn’t fair.

“Maybe later. So, are you going to tell me why you were looking for me earlier?” she asked.

Max finished chewing, set his fork down, and wiped his glistening lips on a napkin before meeting her gaze. “It’s your cousin, Bethany. She’s gotten herself into a wee bit of a fix. I’m afraid I’m going to need you on this one, Laurel.” His eyes were grim, unsmiling. Laurel’s heart plummeted.

“Oh, Uncle Max, what happened?” She reached across the table and grasped his gnarled, slightly sticky fingers. It was easy to forget he was almost sixty until you noticed those knotty knuckles and the faint lines bisecting his top lip. Bethany was his only daughter and the apple of her daddy’s eye. She was Laurel’s age and a good person, but seemed to attract bad luck like a bear to honey.

“That bloody husband of hers has been gambling behind her back.” Max shook his head in despair. “I tried to warn ‘er, but she was smitten. He overspent at the craps and put their house up for collateral. Now they need to come up with sixty grand or lose their home.”

Sixty grand. While that might not seem like much to some people, for Laurel it would be akin to winning the lottery—or getting hit by lightning.

“I knew that guy was a creep. So, what’s she going to do?”

“Not her, my dear, us,” Max answered. His blue eyes turned devilish with the gleam of a born swindler. He glanced around the half-full restaurant before leaning over the table, jeopardizing his clean, white dress shirt in the process.

“I’ve found my mark. I just need you to back me up. It will be like the old days. In and out, with nary a ripple.” He squeezed her hand, then let it go to pick up his cup of tea. Max swore tea was the secret to longevity, and looking at him it was hard to argue the point.

Interesting what he thought was nary a ripple. Twice, they’d been run out of different little towns just when Laurel thought about calling them home. And then there was the time they had actually been arrested, and it was only through sheer good luck, and cousin Heather’s judicial skills, that they escaped without a record. If he considered that smooth sailing, she hated to see what a storm would look like.

Laurel eyed her uncle over her cup and tried to come up with a diplomatic way of saying, “Hell, no.”

“Now don’t look at me that way, missy. I know what you’re thinking.”

No, you don’t.

“You’re wondering why we ever quit.”

Laurel frowned in disbelief.

Her uncle nodded his head, taking her silence for agreement. “I sometimes wonder that me-self, but it was time. You kids needed to branch out on your own, see what the world holds and I was ready to retire, maybe even go fishing for a while.”

He fiddled with his fork on the side of his plate for a moment or two, then lifted suspiciously moist eyes. “She’s my only child, Laurel, I have to help her. Please.”

She had a feeling she was getting swindled by the swindler, but what could she do? Family takes care of family; it was a Doyle clan motto she couldn’t break. If only there were a bank out there somewhere willing to give a high risk client a loan. With her lack of stability and zero assets, no one would touch her. She’d tried.

Laurel sighed and gave in to the inevitable. “So, what’s the plan?”

* * *

J
ack rattled
around the precinct for a couple of hours, waiting out the storm. He’d written up a few reports and left them on his absent receptionist’s desk for filing—whenever she deemed to show up for work. Then he’d finished preparing his case for court on the recent abduction and assault of his brother’s girlfriend, Katy Fowler, and the manslaughter of old Doc Johnson. Jack was glad Ty had finally won the girl. He’d been in love with Katy since the two of them were teens. They deserved their happy ever after.

Then, he’d spent some time on the computer working two missing person’s cases, with little success. Ty had asked him to run a search of adoption records for a baby boy that Katy had given up years ago. The open files had shown nothing, and he couldn’t access the sealed archives without a warrant. Maybe they’d have to look into private investigative companies to get the information. He had a few connections and would make some calls on his brother’s behalf. Jack had a feeling the kid was Ty’s and wanted to help however he could.

The other case was proving to be just as frustrating. It had already been two months since he’d been thrust into the middle of an international case of drug and ammunitions trafficking, when associates of the organization terrorized citizens of Tidal Falls. During the ensuing takedown, an undercover member of the DEA, Maggie Holt, was captured and never found. Jack was contacting any informant sources he could think of to assist in tracking her down. Ty’s friend, Jared, had a stake in the case, as it was his old SEAL teammate’s partner who had disappeared. So far they had found little to prove she was still alive, but the team refused to give up hope.

A glance out the window showed the storm was losing its grip on the area, thank God. He hadn’t looked forward to spending the night patrolling the highway in search of accidents and possible fatalities. Tina still had another hour for school before he needed to picked her up and deliver her to her job at The Craft Shack. His sixteen-year-old daughter was as stubborn as her dear old dad and determined to go to university right out of high school. She’d was already saving toward that goal. Now, if only she’d give up dating.

A light tap on the office door heralded the arrival of Jack’s deputy, Sid Carmichael. His scrawny shoulders under the heavy blue police jacket were piled with clumps of melting snow.

“Shee-it, that’s some nasty weather out there.” Sid pulled off his hat and smacked it against his thigh. “Sure am glad it’s quitting soon. How’d you make out, Chief?” He dug around in pocket after pocket until he finally came up with a linen hankie. He lifted it to his nose and gave a blast loud enough to blow his brains out, and with a last couple swipes plopped down into the chair across from Jack’s desk.

Jack slid the hand sanitizer toward his deputy and frowned at the water dripping onto his freshly polished tile flooring. “Yeah, it’s a bad one alright. Handed out a few violation tickets and read the riot act to a speed-demon.” He withheld the fact that he knew the culprit, or that it was his own receptionist.

“I swear, the worse the storm, the more idiots come out of the woodwork.” Sid shook his head before glancing back through the open doorway to the quiet front end. “Mike and Norm still out then?”

“Yeah, they pulled short straw, working through the night.” Jack picked up his pen and set it down again, already guessing who his friend would ask about next.

“What about Laurel? Shouldn’t she be here by now?”

Bingo.

“Miss Thomas stepped out for an early break with her uncle, who I gather is in town for a short visit.” Jack was pretty sure he was the only one still calling her by her surname. Her name on his lips made him feel things he wasn’t ready to acknowledge. It was safer to maintain a distance between them. She threatened his placid, everyday life, and he didn’t like it.

Sid twirled his hat, dislodging more droplets of water. “I met him awhile ago. Nice enough guy. He’s been in town for a couple of weeks now. I seen him getting real chummy with Grace the other day.” He shifted in his seat. “Hope he don’t hurt her, boss. She’s been alone a long time now. It would be easy to be taken advantage of.” He looked up, and then quickly away again.

Holy shit, he’s in love with Grace Martin.

Jack sank back in his seat flabbergasted. He definitely hadn’t seen the writing on that wall. But he agreed with Sid anyway. Grace was a much-beloved part of the community—mess with her, you mess with the town. He better do a little digging around on Uncle Max.