The Sheriff Meets His Match (4 page)

L
aurel nestled
the tattered old Santa into place on the branch, careful to avoid the sharp needles and sank down from her toes for a better look. Perfect. She overheard Tina giving her dad a hard time over the lights and had to smile. It reminded her of happier times spent with her own family. It was obvious Tina and her father had a close connection to each other. Rumor was Jack’s wife had left him and Tina the moment his career as a pro football star ended due to a terrible auto accident.

She couldn’t imagine ever walking away from her own child like that, never mind leaving a great guy like Jack Garrett. Not only was he clearly devoted to his daughter, he worked hard to take care of his town. And the man was seriously hot. His nutmeg brown hair had a slight curl that invited a woman’s hands while his chiselled face and expressive eyes said he’d know how to make her happy. Laurel felt her nipples harden and glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was paying any attention to her.

Jack’s gaze was focused on her butt. She flushed and hurried to swipe her fingers down the back of her skirt in case some tinsel clung there or something. Nope, not a thing, but her movement did achieve results. Now Jack’s attention lifted to her face with an intensity that had her hands going damp.

Wow.

The man had sinful intentions written all over him in broad strokes. If only she dared to take him up on it, but that would be the height of stupidity. He stood for upholding justice, while she… she hoisted the flag for allegiance. It wouldn’t work. Besides, she was leaving soon anyway, thanks to Max.

“How’s your uncle making out?” Jack asked.

Laurel jumped.
Does he know?

She pulled herself together. Of course not, he was just being polite, making conversation. She eased out a strained breath and attempted a relaxed smile. “He’s good… most days.” It couldn’t hurt to lay the groundwork for her upcoming reveal of her uncle’s supposed dire circumstances. Laurel watched Tina place ornaments for a few moments. The guilt over what they planned sat on her chest like the flu. She hated lying to these people who’d given her a chance at a new life.

“Is he ill then?” Jack probed.

Laurel was searching for a diplomatic way to change the subject when Tina solved the problem.

“Daddy look, remember this?” She held up a circle of yellowed clay, a child’s handprint immortalized within. Jack’s face softened with parental love. He moved to his daughter’s side and wrapped an arm around her skinny shoulders, drawing her close.

“Of course, I do. That was the first Christmas gift you were old enough to make for me. Aunt Tess helped you with the mould, but you insisted on wrapping it yourself.” He smiled into her beaming face. “I'm pretty sure you used a whole roll of scotch tape on the paper, but nothing could stop me from seeing what you made. I'll treasure it always.”

Laurel was surprised that they would use such a special keepsake here, in the sheriff’s office. “Don’t you worry about it getting broken?”

Tina was the first to reply, “I wanted Dad to have something at work to remind him to come home at night.” She shrugged, looking uncomfortable with the admission.

Not so Jack. He pulled his daughter into a tight hug, before leaning back to look her in the eye. “I will
always
be around to make your life miserable, don’t ever doubt that.” He chucked her lightly under the chin. “It’s you and me, kid, forever. Okay?”

Laurel’s chest tightened. She blinked back tears. Jack was one in a million. She’d give anything to have someone’s unconditional love the way the Garretts displayed theirs. Tina was a lucky girl. It would be wonderful to have a man like Jack in her corner, no matter what.

The opening beats of the latest Taylor Swift song interrupted the moment. Tina swiped her eyes, dug into her back pocket, and pulled out her cellphone. A quick glance at the screen and she turned bright red, spinning away with a muttered, “Be right back.”

Jack looked pained as he watched her twirl and un-twirl the ends of her hair while giggling at whoever was on the other end of the line. Laurel took pity on him, redirecting his attention to the tree. “Miles of forest all around us and this is the nicest pine you could find?”

Jack’s lips quirked as though she’d said something funny. He threw the jumbled pile of lights into the box and stepped around the table. When he arrived at her side he reached out and fingered the needles of the nearest branch, releasing a pungent aroma into the air between them.

“This is a spruce tree,” he said as he gazed into her eyes, humor lighting their depths. “Short needles, see? A pine’s needles are longer and softer, Florida girl.”

Laurel bristled, and then relaxed, laughing softly. “Fair enough, Ranger Rick. Next time you’re in my part of the world I’ll show you some real trees.”

His look turned liquid, melting her resistance. “I’ll hold you to it.”

She could totally picture him wandering the beach in board shorts—and nothing else. “I don’t think you could handle the heat.” The flirting was unintentional, but worked to fan the flames nonetheless.

Jack’s hand moved to her waist and tugged her closer. Close enough she could feel the inferno raging beneath his skin and the rigid length of his erection. She swallowed hard.

Just as Tina was ending her call, he leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Try me.”

Then he was gone, back to working those blasted lights as though his soul depended upon it.

A
couple
of days later Laurel wandered along Main Street enjoying the crisp air and the impossibly blue skies. A fresh layer of snow blanketed the mountain peaks in the distance, but none had fallen in town since the big storm, thank God. There wasn’t much that she wasn’t willing to try, but driving on icy roads was a skill she could do without. In that regard she was definitely a Florida bunny, as Jack liked to remind her every chance he had.

Since things were momentarily quiet at the office, he’d given her the afternoon off to do “girly stuff” as he’d put it. So she’d taken advantage of the opportunity to get her hair trimmed at the Hair Affair Salon, where the owner, Jenny, was more than happy to fill her ears with the local gossip. Over and above “who was cheating on who”, and the latest on the most eligible bachelors in town—which of course included the sheriff—she also imparted some distressing news. Grace Martin had diabetes.

“It’s the saddest thing,” Jenny lamented as she tipped Laurel’s head to the side so she could clip around the ears. “I’ve known the Martins since I was an itty bitty little thing. It about broke Grace’s heart when Jared left town to join the Navy. I figured this would be their second chance. You know, since he’s come home now and all.”

No, Laurel hadn’t known. She hadn’t met Jared yet, but already felt a kinship with the man. She’d been looking for a do-over herself when she got the call from her old college roomie, Rebecca Sorenson. When Rebecca mentioned her mom’s dream of a vacation to Nevada if only she could find a temporary replacement for her receptionist job in Washington State, half way across the country, it had seemed like fate.

Fate, ha.

The situation was quickly becoming untenable. She was being forced to choose between family loyalty and her heart. These people cared about each other, and although they knew nothing about her they’d welcomed her in without reservation. Laurel was making a home for herself here and resented the need to give it all up.

“What’s the matter, honey? You know what they say about hairdressers, right?” Jenny eyed her in the mirror while gently running the comb through Laurel’s still damp hair.

Laurel glanced at the cutting shears and then away, her eyes lighting on the plaque propped up on the edge of the table,
Words of Wisdom: Don’t piss off your hairstylist…ever.

Her hands turned sweaty beneath the cape. She cleared her throat before slowly answering. “The body is in the cut?”

Jenny’s blue eyes, caked in matching blue eyeshadow, widened for a stunned second, before crinkling at the edges as their owner let loose a peel of laughter.

“Oh, that’s good,” she snickered. “The body is in the cut, I like it.” She swiped at her runaway mascara, giving herself a set of raccoon eyes in the process before tapping the scissors on Laurel’s shoulder.

“I was going to say, what is shared in the salon, stays in the salon. So if you ever need to talk, sugar-pie, I’m here, okay?” The women’s eyes met in a moment of solidarity, then Jenny went back to work, tipping Laurel’s head this way and that and snipping here and there.

Laurel sat in the chair and fought the overwhelming urge to spill her guts. So much of her focus in life had been spent trying to pay back her uncle for his kindness that she’d never taken the time to make any deep connections with anyone else. Even Rebecca didn’t know the whole story. No one did.

* * *

J
ack met
up with his deputies, Mike Randolph and Norm Walters, in the parking lot of The Rendezvous Hotel.

“This the car you were telling me about?” he asked, as the three of them stood watching Gus back the tow-truck into position behind a dirty green four-door Chevy Impala.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Mike nodded, his cheeks ruddy from the cold. “We waited right here like you asked. No sign of the owner.”

“Has someone checked with Pearl already to see if it’s registered to one of her guests?” Jack questioned, his attention on the out of state plates. Florida. Now if he were a man who believed in coincidences, this wouldn’t matter as much. But since he was a cynical bastard, he kind of had to wonder at the chances of three different citizens of the land of sunshine and lollipops showing up here in his little town—in the middle of freaking winter. Something wasn’t adding up, and he
hated
puzzles.

Norm looked at him like he had a screw loose, which was highly possible. After all, he’d hired her.
Her
of course being the current stealer of his dreams, his own fantasy girl, Laurel Thomas.

“I’m not the one with my head in the clouds. There’s something fishy going on and all you can think about is getting into our secretary’s pants. Mind you, if I got my hands on that ass I’d…” Norm’s words were cut off when Jack let out a roar and charged, driving him back against the side of his squad car with a shoulder to the gut.

“Shut the fuck up, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jack ground out between clenched teeth.

“I know you got it bad if you can’t see there’s something weird going on around here.” Norm shoved Jack’s larger frame off and glared at him.

Mike stepped in the middle, taking his life in his hands since both men outweighed him by at least fifty pounds or more. “C’mon, you guys are friends. Cool down and talk it out. We aren’t going to figure nothing out if you keep going around half-cocked.”

Jack eyed Norm over Mike’s head. There’d been friendly rivalry between the two men before over women, but nothing like this. The thought of Norm anywhere near Laurel made him see red. He wanted to snort like a bull. Shit, his heart was pounding. And all over a woman who wouldn’t even be around in time for spring. He was an idiot.

Jack stepped back, lifting his hands to show he was done. He heaved out a heavy breath, clouding the air in front of him, then turned back to inspecting the Impala, determined to let the matter drop.

“Pearl says the car’s been sitting here a week. That dates back to the blizzard we got last Monday,” Norm said quietly.

Relieved that his friend intended to follow his cue, Jack moved closer and peered into the frosty glass. A collection of fast food containers and several gas station coffee cups sat discarded on the passenger seat and floor space. He could just make out a pile of receipts crumpled in the console.

There was a clang as the winch cable was released on the tow truck. Jack strode to the rear of the car and waited while Gus hooked onto the sub-frame and loaded the car onto the flatbed. When he was done Gus hopped down from the cab and hurried toward them, his salt and pepper hair giving him a dour look.

“Thanks, Jack. Where do you think the owner is?”

Yeah, that was the million-dollar question. The car was far from fancy, but still… Unless it was stolen, he’d have to assume foul play. The containers seemed to suggest the car was in use when the subject disappeared. He needed this right now like he needed a hole in the head. All roads seemed to be leading back to his receptionist and Jack didn’t like it, not one bit.

B
y the time
Laurel made it back to the little house she’d rented from Jack’s aunt—though she hadn’t known of the relationship at the time—the stress of the afternoon had caught up with her. It was hard to go along as though nothing was wrong. Especially when the blocks she’d spent so much time building, such as her job, friendships, and a burgeoning relationship with the sheriff and his daughter, were about to come tumbling down.

She’d just set her purse on the end table by the door when she heard a faint buzz from inside. Worried that it might be her mother, she hurried to paw through to the bottom of the handbag where everything always seemed to land. Sure enough, her cell sat buried under a pile of unpaid bills, napkins, and ew—was that the sandwich she forgot to eat at work yesterday?

She thumbed through to her most recent text messages and saw three from her mom, two from Uncle Max, and one from her cousin, Bethany. What the heck was going on now?

She kicked off her boots on the way to the sofa and sank down with a relieved sigh before opening her mom’s notes.

Hi dear,

Laurel’s lips twitched. It had taken sixty-five years for her mother to get a cell phone and she insisted on proper punctuation while texting.

Have you heard from your Uncle Max recently?

Not since their lunch last week.

No, Mom. What’s up?

While waiting for her reply, Laurel scrolled over to her uncle’s messages.

Hey, m’darlin’, I need to see U

What did he do now?

What’s wrong?

Lastly she moved to her cousin’s message. She blanched at the stark words.

Joe knows where Daddy is. He’s on his way

Crap, could her life get any more screwed up? Laurel had let Jack go with the assumption she’d been driving carelessly, when in fact someone had tried to run her off the road and she only narrowly managed to escape. And a couple of times since then her back had crawled with the feeling someone was watching her, although a careful search never revealed a thing, so she’d sluffed it off to imagination. Now she had to wonder though.

Are you okay?

She worried Bethany might have gotten in the way of her ex’s fist in order for him to get that information. It wouldn’t be the first time Joe hit her. A trill let Laurel know another message had just come in.

Bethany is in the hospital. That bugger messed her up pretty darn bad.

Her heart skipped a beat. Her mom never swore, not even mild profanity. That, more than anything, told her how bad it must be. Another note from Bethany arrived.

I’m in the hospital, cousin. He got so mad when I told him there was no more money. He doesn’t believe me

Then, before Laurel could reply, she added,

I’m scared

Oh, Bethany. Laurel had tried to warn her about Joe a couple of times, but her cousin only saw the good in people so she’d brushed off the comments. Even when Joe started pushing her around and flirting with other women, Bethany had found ways to excuse his behaviour. It angered and frustrated her. Bethany deserved so much more than that piece of crap she’d tied herself to.

There was only one answer Laurel could give. Her fingers slid over the keypad.

I’ll take care of it

* * *

A
n hour
later an expected knock came at Laurel’s front door. She double-checked through the side window first, then opened the door to her uncle, shivering at the blast of cold air. A quick glance showed the sky darkening to a pewter grey with heavy snow-filled clouds forming on the horizon.
Didn’t the crappy weather ever take a break?

“Evening, my girl. Brr, it’s colder than a witch’s tit out there.” His nose and cheeks were ruddy and Laurel could feel the chill in his body as she helped him off with his wool jacket.

“You need to get a parka if you plan on being here for long, Uncle.” She hung up the heavy coat and ushered him into her cozy den. A few logs crackling merrily in the fireplace provided a cheerful glow and some much-needed warmth.

“Sit by the fire,” she urged. “I’ll bring you some tea.” Max had never possessed a driver’s license. He preferred to walk anywhere he needed to go, which was fine in Florida—here, not so much, unless you didn’t mind going around looking like
Frosty the Snowman.

Returning with a tray laden with camembert, crackers, her uncle’s favorite oatmeal cookies and the promised pot of tea, Laurel found Max rubbing tiredly at the spot between his eyes. Her heart softened with love for the man who’d taken on the role of a father figure for her and her brother without complaint. She hated to think what might have happened otherwise. Especially with her mom contracting pneumonia not long after her father died. Child Services were looking into placing them in foster care when her uncle stepped in and invited them into his home.

“I’m guessing by the look on your face that you heard the news,” she said quietly, setting the tray down on the footstool between them before sinking cross-legged to the floor.

“If you be talking about my sweet Bethany, yes child, I heard.” He glanced at her with a sadness that made her ache inside, then turned back to his contemplation of the flames. “A father should be able to protect his child. I’m nothing but a failure.”

Laurel had never seen her uncle look so defeated. It worried her. They needed to take care of Joe. Once and for all.

She reached over the top of the stool and gave his bony knee a pat. “Please don’t ever think that, Uncle Max. You’ve always been the yarn that holds us all together. We’d unravel without you.” She met his teary eyes and felt her own well up with emotion. “None of that now, we Doyles don’t give up, it’s not in our…”

“DNA,” he murmured at the same time as her, then faintly smiled. “I wonder where you heard that before, eh?”

Relieved that she’d managed to pull him out of his funk, if only for the moment, Laurel filled his cup with jasmine tea and passed it over. He inhaled the fragrance and sighed his pleasure.

“You make tea like your Maimeò, full-bodied and robust. Perfect for what ails ye.” He winked.

She smiled, remembering Grandma Doyle and her hooch hidden in the kitchen cupboard behind the pots and pans. Whenever she made a pot of tea she’d add a splash of rum. “For the joints,” she always said.

Laurel offered her uncle a cookie, and frowned when she accidently dropped a butter knife on the floor. “How bad is Bethany?” she asked.

Max prevaricated, pointing at the utensil. “You’re going to have a man visit ye soon.” He pulled a blue and white checked hankie from his pocket and swiped at his eyes before replying. “She has a broken arm, a cracked jaw, and he burst her eardrum.”

Laurel sat in stunned silence. Joe’s charismatic smile and laughing green eyes flashed through her mind. She’d hadn’t trusted him; something about the guy never rang true with her, but this… what kind of man attacks a woman half his size? She shivered and rolled to her feet so she could add another log to the fire—and regain her composure.

“What do we do now? He’s coming after us, Uncle. We need help.” She turned and held out her hands, pleading to his good sense. “Let me tell the sheriff, he’ll know what to do.”

“No,” he roared, half lifting from the armchair. His tea sloshed over the edge of his cup and settled his temper. He grunted his apology and bent over to wipe up the mess with his handkerchief, groaning over the awkward position. His face was flushed when he rose, either from exertion or anger, she wasn’t sure. Where the fire’s dancing shadows had seemed warm and cosy, now the crackle and pop of the burning wood just reflected the tension between Laurel and her uncle.

Max sighed and searched for a clean corner of his kerchief to wipe his forehead before slumping into his chair. “I’m too old to see the inside of a prison, don’t ye see?” He gazed up at her through rheumy eyes. “We do this job, you and I, get Joe his money, and I promise on your sainted aunt’s soul that I’ll hang up my conman’s hat for good. Deal?”

Something wasn’t adding up here. Max told her before the money was for Bethany’s house after Joe gambled it away, so why was he chasing across the country after them?

“What aren’t you telling me? Why did Joe beat the crap out of Bethany in order to find you?” she demanded.

Max stared into the fire for a long moment, and when he turned back all the flames of hell seemed to dance in his eyes.

“He found out that I arranged for him to lose that night. I wanted him out of Bethany’s life and figured if he thought she had nothing left, he’d go.” Tears rolled unheeded down his cheeks and broke Laurel’s heart. “I’m the reason she’s in that hospital bed.”