Love Hime or Leave Him

by Sara Daniel

  Larry’s eyes narrowed. “Are you insinuating a threat against an officer and his family?”

  “Of course he’s not,” Connor said, setting aside his notebook. “He simply expects us to act like professionals. Becca has signed a confidentiality agreement, so she can’t talk about anything she’s seen tonight. No one will hear about this from anyone who’s here right now unless you tell them, Jake. But remember, someone else in town does know—the person who did this, and he or she may not keep quiet about what was written.”

  Becca’s heart thumped in her throat, remembering the whispers pointing to Toby on the last two crimes. Would everyone else’s silence prove his guilt? If he’d purposely set out to hurt Jake, how could she consider protecting him? But as her brother and only family member, how could she not? Mom, what would you do? What do you expect me to do?

  Her mother hadn’t left her with answers, only responsibilities.

  While Connor and Larry finished talking with Jake, Becca called Matt. By the time she put her phone away, a domestic disturbance across town had been called in and both Connor and Larry took off to respond.

  She smiled at Jake. “Good news. Because the paint is so fresh, Matt thinks it might come off by coating it with WD40, which is your best chance for not damaging the siding or taking off the color along with the spray-paint. If you don’t have it, he has some in his office he’s happy to let us use.”

  Jake offered a handshake. “Thanks for your help. Pretty ironic the owner of a convenience store turns out to be a huge inconvenience.”

  “You’re not an inconvenience, and I’m not leaving,” Becca said, holding his hand firmly. “I’m going to help you clean this off. That’s what friends are for. We are friends, aren’t we?”

  Jake smiled slightly. “Of course, we are. The problem is I need a fitness center and a personal trainer more than I need a friend right now.”

  Becca thought he needed friends more but didn’t argue. “Well, I can’t magically conjure a fitness center.” Although Connor had pretty much done exactly that little more than an hour ago. “How’s walking a half hour a day working out for you?”

  He scowled at the purple graffiti. “It’s a waste of time, no different than what I normally do, pacing through my store all day.”

  Becca frowned while Jake left to get the supplies Matt had suggested. If the rowing machine was functional or if she had a treadmill or elliptical, she could put together a progressively intense cardio program for him to follow. Calculating his time shuffling behind the store counter wouldn’t give Jake the measurable progress he needed.

  He returned, and with a lot of rubbing using an old towel and multiple applications of the WD40 grease, the graffiti came off an inch at a time. As much as she wanted to provide him with instant results, even the best fitness programs would tick off his weight loss at the same maddeningly slow pace.

  Her arm ached from keeping it raised in a continuous back and forth motion. She switched to her left hand and picked up the conversation to distract both herself and Jake from the tediousness of the paint removal. “I lead an exercise class six days a week. The class is currently all female, but we’re not opposed to having a man join us, as long as you can handle a room full of estrogen and your employees can cover the store without you between five and six in the morning.”

  “I might try it,” Jake said. “I’m usually finishing up the doughnuts by five. Maybe I’ll drop in later this week. If I can’t make the schedule work, would you be interested in giving me private lessons as my personal trainer? I’d pay you.”

  “I have a job,” she reminded him, squashing her impulse to automatically say yes. Her first real personal training client!

  “Think of it as extra spending money toward your big trip this summer. You can fit me in around your work schedule.”

  She could use the money, and she’d love the professional challenge, but they both needed a reality check. Jake was not Veronica, who simply wanted to maintain her figure and build muscle tone or even Pauline or Rochelle who hoped to shave off five to ten pounds. “I don’t know how serious you are about losing weight and getting in shape, Jake, but it’s not going to happen in a couple weeks. You need to commit to at least a year and a total lifestyle change to have real results. Even if you stick with it, I’m not going to be here to see you through to the end.”

  “If you can get me started, I’ll follow through. I promise.”

  Becca narrowed her eyes. The determination in his voice convinced her he meant it, but she wanted this project so much she feared she’d become so invested she’d consider setting aside her travel plans just to see him through. “Do you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into?”

  “Are you my friend or not?”

  “I don’t think I can be your friend if I’m going to be your personal trainer. You will hate me too much.”

  She could almost see the toned, self-assured man he could become. For the first time she found herself looking forward to going to work. She’d prepared her entire life for this job.

  …

  Connor finished his patrols, but instead of going home, he drove back to the convenience store. At the front of the building, Jake scrubbed out the word big with such tenacity he wouldn’t have been surprised if the man himself shrank in size.

  Becca talked and scrubbed simultaneously, as cheerful as if she was in the midst of a midnight party. The words trans fat and high fructose corn syrup drifted to him as he approached. He shook his head in disbelief. Her excitement fed off the topic of conversation. She reveled in dissecting and conquering those words.

  Unfortunately, her joy faded into uncertainty as she noticed him. “Grab a rag and some WD40. The spray-paint comes off, although it takes a lot more than the quick swipe we were hoping for.”

  Even with his help, they needed a miracle to finish before the rest of the town woke up and created the first-ever gaper’s delay on Kortville Road. The person who did this should be scrubbing it off while Jake cracked the whip. At the very least, he deserved justice and the vandal should be held responsible for his or her actions.

  And Connor needed to redeem himself. The town had been hit by vandalism for the third Friday night in a row. He should have seen this coming. Instead, he’d been so distracted by Becca’s presence he hadn’t noticed anything else.

  He sprayed and then scrubbed the word Dough(nut) on the side of the building while Becca answered Jake’s questions about proteins and muscle groups. Although Connor considered fitness a hobby, he didn’t understand the science behind exercising the way she did. In fact, it usually turned his brain to mush when he tried. But the way she explained it actually made sense. She even made it sound simple.

  He hadn’t seen this side of Becca since she’d been a high school student—near the top of her class. Her talents truly were wasted behind the checkout counter at the grocery store. “Jake, did Becca tell you the idea she and I were discussing for your bowling alley?”

  She shot him a look. “It’s a great idea, but it’s your idea, not mine.”

  “You said you’d help,” he reminded her, explaining his concept to Jake who latched onto it immediately.

  “So this is the type of thing you dream up during one of your nightly insomniac episodes?” Becca asked him as Jake went back in the store for more rags.

  Connor lowered his oily cloth to the ground. He never mentioned his nightmares. How could she have guessed? “What are you talking about?”

  “You said you don’t sleep, so I figured you spend lots of time thinking up random ideas.”

  “No, I think about this during the day when I’m surrounded by brightness and cheerfulness.” You. The nightmares didn’t touch him then.

  He studied the offensive purple gh(nut) remaining. This was Jake’s nightmare, and Connor hadn’t stopped it. Just because the destruction wasn’t on the same scale as Kevin didn’t lessen Connor’s failure.

  “Keep your ears open at the grocery store tomorrow
. If anyone starts talking about what happened here, I want to know who said it and how much they know, even if it implicates your brother.”

  Her back straightened. “If Toby were behind this, he’d be spray-painting something that belongs to me, telling me what a sucky parent I am.”

  She wasn’t a sucky parent. She’d done an amazing job even without considering she’d had to deal with her mother’s death and her father’s abandonment at the same time. From his breakfast here with Toby last Tuesday, he’d been certain if Toby had been involved, the crimes would have stopped. But they hadn’t. So either Toby wasn’t responsible, or Connor himself had done a sucky job of getting through to the teen.

  Either way, he needed to come to an absolutely certain conclusion. “Next Friday, I want you to be with Toby all night from after school until you go into work Saturday morning. If we can’t catch the perpetrators in action, we’ll eliminate suspects one by one.” But he needed to do it fast.

  He’d failed in his duty to protect Kevin.

  He’d failed to protect Mrs. Parker.

  He’d failed Jake too.

  He wouldn’t fail again.

  Chapter Seven

  “I love you two forever,” Jake declared. He put his arms around Becca and Connor, pulling them into a group hug.

  Caught off-guard, Becca found herself pressed against Connor from cheek to thigh. High off the fumes of WD40 and running on nearly twenty-four hours without sleep was not the time to test her defenses. Fortunately, she didn’t have the energy to act on her desire. “I’m so glad all the paint came off.”

  “I can’t see a single mark up close, and from across the street the outline where the words used to be is invisible as well. Complete success,” Connor declared.

  “Plus, you have the cleanest siding in the entire state,” Becca added. She stood just as close to Jake but felt nothing but a bit of brotherly affection.

  Connor cleared his throat and stepped away. “I don’t know about you guys, but I worked up an appetite. I think we all deserve a doughnut to celebrate. I don’t suppose you have any left over from yesterday, Jake?”

  “I’m not serving you stale doughnuts after you worked so hard,” he said in disbelief. “Come back in an hour, and I’ll give you first pick of a brand new batch.”

  Connor glanced at his watch. “Sounds like a plan. I better run if I’m going to make it home before Zelda calls.”

  “Shoot. I need to get home too,” Becca realized with a start. “If the ladies are standing outside the door waiting for me before I get there, everyone will know something happened last night. Jake, if you do make doughnuts after we leave, limit yourself to one, then fill up on fruit or unsalted, unsweetened nuts.”

  He made a face at her. “We worked all night. Don’t I get a reward?”

  “This beautiful clean building is your reward.” She grinned, relishing her new role as the food police. “Told you you’d hate me.”

  She wasn’t just a grocery store cashier anymore. As a personal trainer, she had the ability to make a real difference in people’s lives.

  But even living her dream, she still had to clock in to her cashier job. She’d take along the memory of Connor’s hip pressed against hers as a sexy little secret to help her make it through the day.

  Becca had no idea how she had the energy to run her class. She didn’t even remember going through the motions at the store as morning spilled into afternoon. She never skimped on sleep, considering it as important as breathing. However, for the first time in years, she was operating on absolutely nothing. Twice customers needed to remind her they had change coming.

  “Who were you out with all night?” Harriet asked with a speculative raise of her eyebrows, an assortment of gourmet instant hot cocoa packets on the conveyor belt in front of her.

  Having a man who could keep her up all night made quite a breathtaking fantasy. “No one.”

  “Well, it looks like ‘no one’ must have been a hunka-hunka-burnin’-love in the sack,” Harriet said with a laugh, fumbling through the coins in her oversized wallet for exactly the right change.

  Becca knew without a doubt the “no one” who would fit the bill. She’d been with him all night, although definitely not in any way related to the proverbial sack. But she didn’t encourage the gossip. She didn’t need Harriet spreading those kinds of rumors.

  She also didn’t correct the misconception. Larry must have kept quiet about the events at the convenience store, or his wife would have known Becca hadn’t been getting a bit of love.

  After Harriet left and the afternoon wore on, she had a true appreciation for the phrase dead on her feet. At least, she would have if she’d been awake enough to think at all. “Three dollars and ninety-two cents,” she said, as she rang up a candy bar and an energy drink.

  The customer slapped a bill in her hand, and her brain jolted awake even as the rest of her body froze. The pad of the index finger pressing against her palm was a shockingly bright shade of purple.

  She lifted her gaze to the customer’s face, dread, anticipation and triumph warring inside her. She’d found the spray-paint vandal. It had to be. After hours of scrubbing, the exact color of the graffiti on Jake’s building had imprinted in her brain.

  The impatient face staring back at her belonged to Toby’s best friend Nick.

  “What happened to your finger?” she asked.

  He glanced down, seeming surprised by the abnormal coloring. “Uh, I was helping Uncle Simon clean the blueberry mess in the back.”

  “Blueberry mess?”

  He held up both hands, showing bluish purple stains on all his fingers. Still, the hue on his index finger was off just a bit from the others. “Did you and Toby go anywhere last night?”

  “Otto’s, like usual. I don’t know what Toby’s problem is. He hardly hangs out with us anymore.”

  Becca’s breath hitched. She’d seen Toby’s car at Otto’s. Why would Nick cover for him? “Nick, tell me the truth. Are you sure he wasn’t with you?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m sure. You’ve successfully brainwashed him that he has to go away to school. Congratulations on making him miserable and ruining everyone’s plans.”

  She handed him his change, unsure whether he was speaking sarcastically or if in fact Toby had finally agreed to leave. Well, she’d discuss the future and the suspicious purple stains with her brother, not his friend.

  Nick looked at the money in disgust. “Where’s the rest of my change?”

  “A dollar and eight cents is your change. You gave me a five.”

  “No, I gave you a twenty.” He glared at her, as he spilled the change and receipt onto the counter.

  Had he? She never made that kind of mistake, but she’d never worked a full day after staying up all night either. Becca looked from the dollar, nickel and three pennies to the receipt to the money in her drawer. She’d rung him up as if he’d given her a five. The plastic flaps were down over the singles, fives, tens and twenties, all the money in the correct slots, leaving no clues. “I’ll have to balance out my drawer to know for sure.”

  Nick blew out a gusty breath. “You think I have all day?” Then he yelled, “Uncle Simon.”

  Becca’s head throbbed. She wished she’d been more sure of what bill he’d given her, but her mind emptied of everything but the purple paint on his finger, the hurt on Jake’s face, her own aching arm and sleepless night from wiping off the nasty words, and the certainty that wherever Nick went, Toby could be found within shouting distance.

  “What’s the problem?” Simon joined her behind the counter, his fingertips and nails stained a bluish-purple too. She remembered how he’d powerwalked away from the library a week ago. Could he be trying to cover a telltale purple spray-paint stain? She still had no idea what kind of grudge he held against the library, but he was forever disparaging Jake for stealing grocery store customers away with longer hours and ready-made snack foods.

  “I gave her a twenty, and this is all
I got in change,” Nick said, gesturing toward the single bill and coins.

  “I’m positive he gave me a five, but I can recount my drawer to check.” Becca sighed, wanting to collapse into bed and fill her brain with images of Connor as she drifted off to sleep.

  Simon’s gaze traveled along the accumulating line of customers. “Just give him the extra fifteen. If he’s wrong, he can give it back later, but I’m sure he knows what he gave you. Twenty bucks is a lot of money to a kid.”

  Nick’s eyes lit up, as if he’d hit the lotto jackpot. “You bet it is. Thanks, Uncle Simon.”

  Becca didn’t know if Simon really believed his nephew over her or not. But she knew from experience he’d use any excuse not to have to pitch in at the register, and with the other cashier already clocked out for the day, he’d have to if she stopped to count her drawer.

  She pulled a ten and a five from her register and handed them across the counter to Nick.

  An hour later when she cashed out for the day, she ended up exactly fifteen dollars short.

  Becca sent Toby a check-in text when she arrived home from work, then settled into the recliner in the living room to wait for him, too exhausted to boot up her computer and check her blog for comments.

  The next thing she knew morning light filled the house and a glance at the clock confirmed she was due at work in minutes. She scrambled out of the chair where she’d slept like the dead, never hearing Toby come home despite his car parked in the driveway. She didn’t have time for so much as a quick hello, let alone the careful, nonconfrontational questions she wanted to ask about school and Jake’s.

  That evening, though, she made a point of waiting up for him. “How’s everything with your friends?”

  He shrugged as if he had no idea what she was getting at. “Fine, I guess.”

  “Were you hanging out with them this weekend?”

  He shrugged again. “Off and on. Where have you been, by the way?”

  “Work and sleeping in the chair.”