by Donna Fasano
Reece swore under his breath. "Do you realize that the list of suspects just doubled?" He looked at Jason. "How well do you know Arnor? Are you sure it couldn't be him?"
"I'm not sure, no," Jason said. "But all my years as a police officer are telling me that Maggie's trying to catch the wrong tiger."
"Look—" Derrick left his beer untouched as he leaned toward Reece "—do you have access to any information about Maggie's past cases?"
Tapping a knuckle against his chin, Reece took a moment to think. "She brought lots of files with her when she came. I think she was afraid the ass might get into her house and destroy her records. I haven't seen the files since she came, but I would assume they're still upstairs."
His friends made to rise.
"Wait, guys. Now, just hold on." Reece had planted his hands on the tabletop. "I can't go invading Maggie's privacy like this. I trust her ability. She's good at what she does. I need to give her the space she needs to make her own way. I don't want her to think I'm intruding. And besides, she's got a lot on her mind right now. You see, we've... she's..." The fact that he'd begun to stammer caught his attention, and he snapped his jaw shut.
Both Jason and Derrick eased back down into their seats, staring and speechless. Reece reached up to rub his jaw in an attempt to cover the awkward moment. An acute silence hung heavy among the three of them, and Reece realized that, as friends, they had never experienced this kind of discomfort when they were together.
"Gee, Reece," Jason said, looking perplexed, "you're talking about trust, you're complimenting this woman, saying that she needs to be treated with respect and common courtesy." His brows rose. "Is there something you want to tell us about Maggie?"
A ragged sigh escaped Reece's throat. "No. There's nothing I want to tell you. I can't really. Not until I've figured it all out myself." He heard the self-consciousness in his tone.
"Oh, I dunno," Derrick commented, a devilish gleam lighting his gaze. "I think you've done a good job of figuring it out, Reece. And if the situation wasn't so darned serious, I'd be razzing the hell out of you... lover boy."
Reece grimaced, and then narrowed his eyes on Derrick. "Don't start."
Derrick only grinned.
"Look, Reece," Jason said, "I understand your wanting to give Maggie some space. Especially if she's thinking over some matters of the heart."
Reece knew Jason was choosing his words carefully and he appreciated that.
"But, like Derrick pointed out, this situation is serious." He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "If Maggie's right and Arnor is the guy she's looking for, then she should have some kind of backup. The behavior you described regarding the person breaking into Maggie's home is beyond twisted. This isn't a rational human being we're talking about." Jason shifted in his chair. "If Arnor is innocent, then that means there's someone out there... someone who has it in for Maggie. And it seems like, before she left her home, the crap that was going on was accelerating, getting worse, more serious. And if this joker was stalking her at her home, the next logical step would be for him to go out looking for her. Especially if he's frustrated that she moved out of her house and he can no longer terrorize her there. That's probably why he trashed the place."
Anxiety, thick and sweaty, crept up on Reece. "But we haven't had even a hint that this person knows she's here. As long as he doesn't know where she is..." Seeing Jason shake his head, Reece let the rest of the sentence fade.
"Everyone has favorite hangouts," Jason said. "Places they frequent that seem safe. Coffee shops, convenience stores, that kind of thing. You can bet, Maggie's stalker knows where she gets her coffee, knows where she stops to eat. It wouldn't take much to find out where she was staying."
Reece shifted on the seat, not liking the sound of any of this and wondering why the hell he hadn't come to Jason sooner.
"You had her car worked on," Jason said. "Anyone working at the repair shop could give her away. They have no idea her whereabouts are supposed to be kept secret, do they?"
Reece raked his fingers through his hair, apprehension tensing in his gut. "Well, no. It never dawned on me to say anything about it. But I trust them. I used one of the garages that does insurance work for me."
"So anyone at your office could possibly discover that Maggie has been staying here," Derrick said. "And didn't you say," he went on, "that you had the car towed from her house and delivered here to your house? The towing-service people could—"
"Okay, okay, I see what you mean." Reece felt his worry turn to icy distress. Some lunatic could be out there right now, stalking Maggie, following her with malicious intent.
"Giving Maggie time to sort out her feelings is one thing," Jason said with quiet firmness. "But, Reece, she could be in danger. Grave danger."
It took Reece only two seconds to decide what to do. "Come on, guys. Let's go look through her files and see what we can find."
* * *
Maggie was on the hunt. From her preliminary investigation of Anthony Arnor, she had discovered that the sheriff had been spending an inordinate amount of time with the owner of Bayview's only jewelry store, a beautiful and vivacious widow.
Shifting her position, Maggie tried once again to get comfortable on the dirt-packed ground. Unfortunately, the leaf-laden branches of the straggly hedge bushes she was hiding in prohibited the sunlight from reaching the grass beneath, so there was little cushioning for her bottom. She regretted having to leave her car up the road a couple of blocks; however, her hiding spot at the side of the yard gave her a terrific view of the house. Of course, the downside was that she was on the widow's private property, which could cause a bit of a problem if she were to be discovered. But since there was really no way to get around it, she decided the best solution to that dilemma was not to get caught. The pictures she'd snapped of Arnor entering the house would serve as proof for the man's wife. Now all that Maggie needed was documentation that Arnor had visited his mistress long enough for some hanky-panky to have taken place. Maggie decided she'd wait him out another hour; that should certainly be long enough to convince Betty Arnor of her husband's infidelity.
Silent minutes passed, and Maggie sat huddled under the bush in the dark, her thoughts drifting.
Her days with Jeff had stirred deep emotion in her; she'd developed a love for the child that was almost maternal. She loved his impish grin, his wide-eyed, wondrous way of looking at the world. She was going to miss the boy terribly once she moved back home.
And then there was Reece. He'd been so good to her. So giving. So kind. And he'd adamantly denied wanting anything in return. She continued to wrestle with wrapping her mind around that.
How could Reece be so different from any other man she'd dealt with—Peter, Buster, Sheriff Arnor... The list of hurtful, cheating, conniving men went on and on. Reece was a man, and although all of them were certain to have their good points, there always came a time when their less than stellar ones would come to light.
The thought saddened her. Because there was a part of her—the soft, feminine, emotional side—that wanted more than anything for Reece to be different. A side of her that desperately wanted—
Maggie froze when the outside light of the neighboring house switched on. The side door opened and a small dog scampered out into the fenced yard.
"Hurry up, now, Baby," a gentle, aged voice called. "Go potty so we can go to bed."
The collie made a beeline for the hedge bushes, and after sniffing at the fence just inches from Maggie's back, the animal growled under its breath.
"It's okay," Maggie crooned in a whispery tone. "I'm harmless, Baby. Really I am." Panic welled up in her. All she needed was for the dog to start barking. Maggie fumbled in her pocket. "Here, girl." She tossed a cheese cracker at the dog. "Now be a good little dog and go away."
After greedily gobbling up the treat, the dog continued to growl.
"Shoo," Maggie ordered softly.
The collie barked, and Maggie scrambled f
or another cracker to toss.
"Baby!" the dog's owner yelled sternly. "Quiet! You'll wake the neighbors."
The collie barked again.
"That's it," the elderly lady called. "Come!"
However, Baby continued to protect her turf.
The outside light of the widow's house switched on. Maggie's eyes grew wide, and perspiration beaded across her upper lip. She tossed the dog the last cracker. "Please, go away," she pleaded softly.
Baby's owner took a step out into the night. "Come!" she ordered. "Now!"
The collie finally obeyed, but not before squatting down and relieving herself beside the fence, inches from Maggie's foot.
"Thanks a lot," Maggie grumbled as the dog dashed off.
The air hadn't settled for two seconds before she heard a car traveling down the road. The widow's house sat in a residential neighborhood, so the arrival of the car wasn't the least bit odd; however, the fact that the driver turned off the headlights as it cruised by was suspicious.
Maggie watched the car pass the house very slowly. Then she heard rather than saw it stop. The engine switched off. What the hell was going on? Maggie wondered. Was someone else checking up on Sheriff Arnor? The county police force, maybe? Or maybe someone was investigating the merry widow....
Before she could ponder everything out, Maggie heard a car door open and shut. She scrambled up onto her knees to try to get a better view through the leafy bush. There were footsteps, first on the sidewalk, then on the grass.
"Maggie," she heard a husky voice whisper, "where are you?"
A dog barked over on the next block.
Reece? What was he doing here?
"Psssssst." His tone rose just a little. "Maggie."
The idiot was going to ruin everything! She crawled from her hiding place, but stayed in the shadows as much as possible.
"Here. I'm over here." She kept her voice low, but was unable to quell the frantic quality of it. Reece trotted up the side of the yard and squatted down beside her.
"What do you think you're doing?" The question spurted from her like air from a punctured tire, fast and furious.
"I need to talk to you," he said.
"Are you crazy? You're going to get me caught here. I am working!"
"Wait. Listen to me—"
"How did you know where to find me?" As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew the answer, and she gasped in outrage. "You ransacked my files!"
The guilty expression on his face told her she'd guessed correctly. She glared. "How could you do such a thing?"
"Who's out there?"
Maggie's gaze whipped toward the door where she saw Sheriff Arnor standing on the step peering out into the darkness.
"Damn it, Reece! Now look what you've done. What the hell are we going to tell him? How are we ever going to explain...?" She let the question die on her lips as Amor crossed the yard.
"Do you people realize this is private property?" he asked.
Having no reason to remain squatted in the shadows, Maggie and Reece stood.
The sheriff's distinguished face didn't show any anger, and that surprised Maggie. Having thoroughly dug into his background, she knew he'd turn sixty on his next birthday. He'd acted as the county sheriff for more than twenty years. Maggie expected him to show a little emotion since he was about to be caught in a scandal that would jeopardize all he'd worked for.
"Yes," she said, lifting her chin. "We do."
Amor's gaze darted to the camera that hung from a wide black strap around her neck. Lord, she was going to have to come up with a whopper of a lie to get them out of this one.
"Who are you?" the man repeated. "And who are your friends?"
Maggie's brows shot heavenward. "Friends?"
"Yeah," Amor said. "You are with the two guys who're standing on the corner there, right?" With a jerk of his head, he indicated the sidewalk that ran along the front of the property.
This time, Reece answered. "Yeah. They're with us."
Maggie shifted her surprised expression toward Reece.
His shrug was accompanied with a sheepish look. "It's Derrick and Jason."
"What is going on, Reece?" she asked. "Why are they here? What have you done?"
Arnor looked at Reece. "I'd like to know too." Then he turned his sharp eyes on Maggie. "But I have a good idea of who you are. You're a reporter for the local paper, aren't you? And you're aiming to tell the whole county about my secret, huh?"
His demeanor wasn't at all what she thought it should be. She expected anger, resentment, misplaced blame; instead, he was evincing a complacency that could almost be described as amiable. It was almost as if he expected her to be here, expected to be caught, and that he felt that was no big deal.
The sheriff's behavior ruffled her ire. "I'm not a reporter," she snapped. "But maybe I'll go call one, because I'd just love it if the county discovered that you're a liar and a cheat!"
"What?" Arnor looked as if she'd sucker punched him in the jaw.
"Come on, Maggie," Reece said, taking her by the arm. "Let's just go."
"No—" she jerked herself from his grasp "—I think I'd like to tell the sheriff here just what I think of him."
Confusion bit deep into Anthony Amor's forehead. Oh, she thought, doesn't he look innocent? He had his act down pat.
"Don't stand there and look at me like you have no idea what I'm talking about. You're as guilty as sin and you know it."
Darting a glance at Reece, the sheriff asked, "What in blue blazes is she talking about? Guilty of what?"
Reece pressed his lips together, raised his hands and shook his head.
Arnor's innocent act grated on her nerves. Why couldn't the man just be honest?
Then Maggie saw Reece's friends, Derrick and Jason, approaching them. What the hell were they doing here? The question glinted through her mind like the flash of her camera.
Men. They were all around her, and she couldn't seem to figure out even one of them. Suddenly, her breath left her in a sigh. Her shoulders sagged. She felt bone weary. Tired of trying to understand the opposite sex. Tired of feeling disappointed and angry when she discovered men like Anthony Arnor two-timing their wives. Tired of the confusion that roiled inside her each and every time she thought of Reece and how wonderful he made her feel.
She just wanted to go home. She just wanted to shower off the dog pee, slide into bed, and hide her head under the covers so she didn't have to deal with any of this anymore.
"She knows," Maggie told Arnor, her voice sounding jaded and overly fatigued. "Your wife knows."
"Maggie," Reece warned softly.
Something unnameable glimmered in Arnor's aged eyes. "Betty knows about the necklace? But I was so careful to keep it a secret."
Maggie balked. "I don't know anything about a necklace," she said, plowing ahead. "And as far as I know, neither does Betty. But she does know about your mistress."
"Maggie." Reece's voice was sterner this time.
By this time, Reece's two friends had joined them on the lawn, but Maggie was too preoccupied with the sheriff to give them much notice.
"Dear Lord," Arnor exclaimed. "My Betty thinks I'm... I'm stepping out on her?"
"She doesn't think," Maggie asserted. "She knows."
The man was intelligent enough to put the pieces together quickly. "You're not a reporter, are you?" He hesitated a moment. "You're a PI." His eyes went wide. "My Betty hired a PI?"
Maggie steeled herself for his onslaught of anger. She was happy that Reece was here with her. The thought struck her like a jolt of lightning, and she quickly tried to reason it out. Yes, she admitted that Reece's being here lent her some security. Not that she needed his protection; it was just that she was happy to have his presence. Frustrated with trying to figure it out, she shoved the idea from her brain.
Focusing her mind on the matter at hand, Maggie confirmed, "Betty hired me. And she knows that you've been spending your time with a woman by the name of Julie
t Dean, owner of Dean's Jewelry."
The Sheriff grew quiet a moment, and that puzzled Maggie. Where was the yelling, the anger, the blaming of others? Why wasn't Anthony Arnor reacting like any other normal, red-blooded male?
"Oh, my—" Arnor seemed to be speaking to himself, so soft were his words "—poor Betty must be feeling awful if she thinks I've been unfaithful. I hate the idea that my keeping this secret has given her even a minute of distress."
He lifted an imploring gaze first to Reece, then to Maggie. "I'm not cheating on my wife. I love Betty with all my heart. And I wouldn't do a thing to hurt her. Not a thing."
His face, his eyes, his words, all seemed honest and open. Nothing at all like the glinty-eyed lies and hollow-sounding excuses she was used to hearing. The irritation drained out of her, and was replaced by calm bewilderment. Could Arnor be telling the truth? Well, if he was, there were questions that needed to be answered.
"What are you doing here, Sheriff? Why are you with Juliet Dean, all alone, in the middle of the night?"
He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "I've been working on a surprise. A necklace. An emerald-and-diamond necklace specially designed for my Betty." A ghost of a smile passed his lips. "You see, our fortieth wedding anniversary is coming up. And I've spent weeks and weeks going over jewelry designs with Juliet."
Oh, crap. He was telling the truth. And she'd been so certain that Sheriff Arnor was cheating on his wife. She'd been positive he was just like all the other men she'd investigated. All the other men she'd caught in one illicit act or another.
"I need to go call my wife," Arnor said. "I've got to set her straight. To heck with the surprise."
However, Maggie had become so caught up in the jumbled thoughts tumbling around in her brain that the man's voice sounded far-off and hazy. She became vaguely aware of Arnor engaging Reece's friends in conversation.
"Maggie."