by Sara Daniel
Becca turned away while Pauline and Rochelle sniped at each other. Connor had been questioning Toby. Surely not formal questioning, though. Wouldn’t he have to take Toby to the police station or let her know or something? And darn it, how dare he act so sweet to her if he had planned to lock her brother up?
Or did that explain why he’d been extra sweet? Not because he returned any of the feelings she’d been experiencing.
“Hey.” Veronica settled her hand on Becca’s shoulder, her blue eyes full of concern. “Are you upset about Toby or Connor?”
“I’m not upset. Connor’s just doing his job, and I can hardly expect him to consult me before he does it.” But somehow, since she’d marched down the street to confront him while he was wearing only a towel, she’d gone from thinking they were on opposing sides to believing they could one day operate as a team. “And I trust Toby. He’s not perfect, but he’d never set out to hurt anyone.”
“You’re absolutely right,” Veronica said with a smile. “And I have to tell you Matt has been so impressed with Toby’s dedication. Anytime Matt calls he’s ready to go. He worked twelve hours straight both Saturday and Sunday and never said a word of complaint.”
Because he wanted to work long hours doing backbreaking tasks for the rest of his life. How could Becca explain to a woman who’d given up a glamorous city life to plunk down roots here that Toby needed to spread his wings, to see what the world had to offer, to capitalize on his potential?
By Friday, Becca decided she needed to spend some quality time with Toby. She texted him as she left the grocery store and then called when she arrived home and found the house empty. She started cooking dinner while she waited for a reply, carefully setting the folder with the college information he needed to complete next to his plate.
Just as she pulled the baked chicken and broccoli from the oven, Toby texted back he had other plans.
“What other plans?” Becca texted.
After a half hour without a reply, she acknowledged she’d gotten all the response from him she was going to get. She filled her plate then sat in Toby’s chair, absently thumbing through the folder as she ate.
She paused as she came across a paper from the local community college. Unlike the other schools, she hadn’t made him apply to this one, since it didn’t offer a dormitory option. His reluctance to further his education always centered on the assertion he didn’t want to take English and history classes at any college, local or not. Yet, the opening “congratulations” clearly marked it as an acceptance letter.
She sighed and closed the folder. She needed to talk to Toby. Obviously, he’d been keeping important information from her. Had he looked into apartments near the college to rent? Did he have any idea how many extra responsibilities he’d have in an apartment over a dorm? Of course he didn’t. He’d never lived on his own and paid his own bills before.
Peering into the chicken and broccoli leftovers, she sighed. She might as well run a dormitory with all the food she made that Toby took for granted. Tonight she’d created a low fat alternative Jake had been struggling to put together on his own. She’d take him a dinner-size portion and maybe check on the rowing machine too.
Parking at the bowling alley, she strolled across the connected lots to the convenience store. Jake tended a line of three customers, but his eyes lit up at the sight of the meal, happily exchanging it for the bowling alley key, allowing her to work on the rowing machine herself.
Returning to the abandoned building, she took several minutes to coax the finicky lock into cooperating as it proved even trickier than the back door of the grocery store, which wouldn’t shut tight unless the person locking it leaned against the door and turned the knob simultaneously. Finally forcing her way inside, she turned on the single overhead bulb, spreading dim light across the dingy space.
The dusty, badly lit interior should have come off as spooky, but something about the space called to her as she paced from one end to the other. If someone took the time to pull up the waxed lanes and lay down suitable flooring, he or she would have a great space for a business.
“Hey, I thought I noticed a suspicious person in this abandoned building,” Connor said, smiling from the open entrance.
“Hey yourself.” Suddenly, the structure felt even more like home with him inside it. She brushed off the thought, still frustrated that he questioned Toby without her knowledge. “Jake picked up this old rowing machine. I don’t have the heart to tell him it can’t be salvaged, so I thought I’d look at it again.”
“Here I hoped you planned to renovate the building.”
“Renovate?” Surely, the lighting wasn’t so awful that he couldn’t see who he was talking to. She strolled toward him. “Why would I do that? I don’t even own this place, let alone have a use for it.”
“Becca’s Body Mecca? Or if that’s too over the top, how about Becca’s Workout Center?”
She rolled her eyes, ignoring the tingle shivering through her body. She didn’t know the first thing about running her own business, and the idea of tying herself here bordered on ridiculous.
“If you don’t want to, I’ll suggest Jake look into it. I need a real weight room and a way to run when the weather’s nasty, preferably with a space to lock up my gear while I’m running and shower after I’m done. Dang, if someone could incorporate all that into this place, I could live out of my cruiser and wouldn’t need my house for anything.”
“What about sleep?”
“Not an issue for me. I’m a bit of an insomniac.”
Becca frowned. The troubled image didn’t sit well with the man she once knew. “Since when?”
He shrugged. “Since Afghanistan, I guess.”
But he didn’t have PTSD? Really? He had some serious denial going on, but at least she hadn’t witnessed any more flashback episodes since the incident with Fetch. “I’ll mention your idea for this place to Jake and see what he thinks. I’d lend a hand as a fun side project to help get it started before I leave.”
He shot her an incredulous look. “Don’t you want to jump on the idea and run the place yourself?”
“Of course not. Someday after I’ve seen the world I might want to settle down and run a fitness center somewhere, but right now I have a full-time job and a brother to worry about.”
“Speaking of Toby, where is he tonight?”
Becca jolted, hoping he was asking as a way to make conversation, not as the police chief. She studied his relaxed demeanor then answered as a friend. “Otto’s house, I think. His message was a little vague.”
“Are you up for another evening of cruising? We can swing by and make sure his car’s there.”
Again, concern niggled at the thought of the police hunting down Toby’s vehicle, but she’d feel better knowing where he was for sure too. Her real cause for concern was her ability to handle a few hours snuggled within arm’s reach of Connor, enjoying his conversation, soaking in his alluring scent and handsome profile. She should refuse, for no other reason than to keep herself from imagining more to their time together. “Sure.”
Locking the building, she left her car, pocketing the key, since Jake had flipped the sign for his nightly dog break. Then she settled into Connor’s cruiser as they made a loop around town, predictably locating Toby’s beater in front of Rochelle and Otto’s house. She’d worried over nothing, and whatever capacity Connor had asked her in, he could be reassured, as well.
Mrs. Parker’s house sat across the street. Becca had meant to check in on her all week, but the gossip in the store deterred her, leaving her with the impression that the woman had a lot of visitors and was tired of talking about what had happened. Or maybe she’d been using that as an excuse, not wanting to discover if the elderly woman suspected Toby and his friends.
They continued the leisurely drive along Main Street past the Laundromat, reminding her of the overflowing basket she’d been putting off in favor of writing blog posts and experimenting with stretching combinations
. Connor slowed, peering in every window, entryway, and shadow, finding nothing out of place in the hardware or grocery stores. At the library, a piece of broken caution tape fluttered in the wind.
“Good news. The library’s reopening on Monday,” she said, noting the handwritten sign in the window.
“Yep, lots of fun things to look forward to this week. My personal favorite is when you blindfold me on Tuesday night.”
He viewed the blindfold episode where he’d caressed her and sucked on her hand as fun? She’d been a ball of emotions—needy, vulnerable, and cherished. She wondered if she could inspire some of the same in him.
But what if she did? Did she really want to follow the romantic path to its logical conclusion? She wouldn’t stay here because of him any more than she expected him to leave town for her. She’d been through a broken heart with him before and had no desire to repeat the hurt.
Maybe instead of assuming she knew what his intentions were, she needed to ask him outright. And more important than anything personal between them was what his interest in Toby stemmed from. Taking a deep breath, she plunged in. “People have told me you were questioning Toby. I understand you have to do your job, but as his guardian I have a right to be kept in the loop.”
“If I’m formally questioning Toby, I promise you will know.”
“I heard you two were at the convenience store Tuesday morning.” Her heart bled a little, knowing Connor hadn’t brought up the conversation when he’d made the cocoa for her later the same evening. Toby hadn’t mentioned it at all. Of course, with him, she’d have been more surprised if he had voluntarily provided any information.
“He asked me to meet him as his mentor. So I did. We had doughnuts, talked, and he went to school. No big deal.”
“Did you talk to him about college?”
“I told him he should keep the option open,” Connor said.
Her chest lightened, and she took a freeing breath. Having this man on her side would make a difference for Toby and his future. “Thanks. Your mentoring advice is improving.”
“I never thought it was bad to begin with.” He grinned at her.
She opened her mouth to reply, but his radio crackled with static, interrupting her.
“Report of vandalism and graffiti at 789 Kortville Road.”
Becca lurched. “We were just there. That’s the convenience store.”
“En route,” Connor radioed back, his face set in a grim line as he barreled toward the scene, red and blue lights blazing.
They came up to the building from a side street, and Becca gasped. The new siding, pristine moments ago, now dripped with purple spray-paint. Home of the Dough(nut) Boy glistened from the side wall. Connor slammed to a stop, and Becca immediately jumped out to take in the entire store.
Giant letters spelling Jake Barn-ey is as big as a barn had been scrawled across the front from one end of the building to the other.
She swallowed but couldn’t dislodge the lump in her throat. Whoever had done this had gone too far. The pranks weren’t silly or ridiculous anymore. These words would hurt Jake’s tender heart more than falling and breaking any bone would have harmed Mrs. Parker.
…
Connor stepped from the car, his headlights illuminating Larry scribbling in his notebook and Jake standing with his arms folded across his massive chest. So, Larry wanted to take the lead in this investigation. Connor had to admit he was curious how the other man would approach it.
“So, you say you were here the whole time, but you didn’t see anything?” Larry asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Do you think I would have written this crap about myself?” Jake demanded.
“Of course not. We believe you.” Becca crossed the concrete lot to stand next to him.
Honestly, Connor had to agree that her compassionate approach was best.
“And Becca, your car was the only vehicle around during the entire incident.” Larry zeroed in on her. “I suppose you think you can use Connor as your alibi again.”
Surely, Larry didn’t mean to make such a blatant, ridiculous accusation.
“I’m pulling rank and taking over this investigation,” Connor said, making eye contact with Larry, then switching his focus to Jake. “Why don’t you start from the beginning and explain everything you saw and heard and how you came to notice this?”
“I already wrote all that down. We can move on to motive,” Larry said.
Connor gritted his teeth. “We’ll compare notes later. I want to hear what Jake has to say.”
“Obviously the motive is they think I’m as big as a barn and a doughnut boy and want to make sure I’m aware of the situation,” Jake said, his voice shaking slightly. “I’m surprised they didn’t use the Barney angle to call me a purple dinosaur too.”
Becca ran her hand along Jake’s arm, distracting Connor’s focus. “Do you know who ‘they’ are, Jake?” she asked. “Did you see or talk to anyone during the time this might have happened?”
He shook his head. “I went out back with Fetch, like I always do at this time of night. I put the ‘Be back in fifteen minutes’ sign on the door and locked up.”
The siding had been clean. Connor had seen it himself as he’d driven away with Becca. Dang, he had to have been minutes or seconds from crossing paths with the perpetrators.
“I was probably gone from the store for closer to twenty minutes. Fetch needed some extra time running around after he did his business and I refilled his food and water.”
“Did you hear or see anything unusual during that time?” Connor asked, forcing himself to ignore Becca’s arm sliding from Jake’s elbow around his back. He couldn’t speak for Jake, but her attempts at soothing had the opposite effect on him.
He frowned. “I thought maybe I heard a car door or muffled voices, but nothing unusual so I didn’t think anything of it. People know I do this every evening. If they really can’t wait to buy whatever they stopped here for, they know where to find me. Even Fetch reacted normally, so he didn’t suspect anything.”
“Someone local,” Larry speculated. “Someone who knows your schedule, maybe even who’s familiar to Fetch.”
Connor frowned. Larry hadn’t said anything the rest of them couldn’t deduce, but he still needed to zip it this early in the investigation if he wanted to be on Connor’s force.
“Obviously it’s someone local,” Jake spat out. “How would a stranger know I’m the size of a barn?”
“Connor and Larry will figure it out, and we’ll make the perpetrators clean off every word,” Becca said. “It makes no difference what size you are. No one has the right to deface your property.”
“No.” Jake finally, thankfully, stepped away from her touch. “I don’t want anyone to see what they wrote. I don’t want anyone in town to know.”
“It happened,” Larry said. “People will know when you press charges.”
Connor surveyed the scene. Whoever had done this had left in a hurry. Spray-paint cans lay on the ground just under the words Dough(nut) Boy. He returned to his squad car for his camera, taking pictures and making notes, detailing the footprint in the mud at the edge of the lot as well.
Gathering evidence didn’t ease his guilt. He’d let Becca distract him from his job. He’d let down another citizen who counted on him. First, he hadn’t protected Mrs. Parker from falling in a puddle of toilet water. Thankfully, the damage this time had been limited to property and fragile egos. But next time his inattention could mean the difference between saving someone’s life and losing that person forever.
If he’d kept his mind on high-alert, his gaze scanning his surroundings instead of laughing at another one of Kevin’s jokes, the man might still have a chance to tell jokes. But Connor had let down his guard. One moment had taken away the life of his comrade.
Maybe the mayor had been right to consider replacing him. As long as Becca commanded part of his attention, he couldn’t give the town his all. Even she had her brother’s back with mo
re consistency than he’d been able to show for his citizens. He was perilously close to becoming a danger to the people he had sworn to protect.
But if he gave up his position to those who could do the job better, what would he do? He had no other skills. Protecting others from danger was all he knew and everything he lived for. Redeeming himself for not being able to protect Kevin required a lifetime of service.
…
“I’m wrapping up the investigation if one of you would like to give Matt a call to clean this off,” Connor said, nodding to Becca and Jake.
“No,” Jake said before she could jump on the opportunity to do something productive. “I told you I don’t want anyone to see this. I’m not going to be known as Doughnut Boy and the guy who’s as big as a barn. I am more than the town fatso. I’m cleaning it off myself.”
“With what?” Becca had never dealt with spray-paint removal before.
“I don’t know yet.” His tone shifted from defiance to defeat.
She despised the injustice of Jake having to remove the offensive words written against him, but she’d committed to supporting him wholeheartedly. “I’ll call Matt to ask what cleaning products he recommends,” she said. “But I won’t tell him what we need them for.”
“Make sure he doesn’t get it in his head to be extra helpful and come over,” Jake said. “I’ll do my level best to run out of town anyone who spreads rumors about this. I tried to run Matt out when he made Veronica’s life miserable last year. I’d hate to have to do it again.”
“People will know as soon as we make an arrest,” Larry pointed out.
“You have no one to arrest because I’m not pressing charges,” Jake said flatly.
“You brought the entire police force out to investigate. When you employ this kind of man power and have a real crime, you press charges, so we can bring the no-good lowlife who did this to justice.”
“Sorry. I made a false call-in or whatever term you use for a prank 9-1-1 call. Arrest me or give me a ticket if you have to. I don’t want any rumors about what happened here—from you or your wife.”