“Okay,” she said, then added quietly, “Thanks.”
Lizzie had left a few tank tops and several blouses on her dresser. Jane decided the black blouse with lacy trim would look a little more appropriate for the sheriff’s station than the hot-pink or lime-green tank tops. She slipped out of her nightgown and into the borrowed clothes. Jane opted for her own boots this time, feeling more comfortable in them than the tennis shoes Lizzie had provided.
Jane took a look at herself in the mirror, hoping that something more than lavender-blue eyes and blond hair would register, but nothing came to mind. She recognized the face staring back at her, but that was all. No past, no history. It was as if her life had begun the minute Mac had found her up on that road. She promised herself to keep positive and remain patient. She trusted Mac Riggs, and placed her faith in him. And she prayed that something would turn up today.
She took a minute to brush her hair, apply lip gloss and brush a few swipes of mascara on her eyelashes. She made up the bed and tidied the room, then headed to the kitchen. She could really use a big cup of Mac’s mean coffee.
Jane stopped short when she entered the kitchen. The table was set for one, complete with napkin and place mat, even a thin-stemmed red rose in a tall glass vase. Eggs, bacon, oatmeal and biscuits were laid out in bowls, buffet style. Jane shook her head. She couldn’t possibly eat all this food.
The rich scent of coffee filled the room and she poured herself a cup, then sat down, once again overwhelmed. She filled half a bowl with oatmeal and ate it quickly, then covered the rest of the food with foil and placed it in the refrigerator.
She took a second to savor the sweet scent of the rose, a thoughtful gesture on Mac’s part, then poured a second mug of coffee, and with two mugs in hand, strode purposefully out the back door to the garage.
Coffee spilled from the mugs when she stopped suddenly, realizing her mistake. “Oh, uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
She glanced at the coffee stains on the garage floor, cursing her own stupidity for seeking Mac out.
“Hey, Jane,” he said. “Morning. And you’re not interrupting. I’m almost through.”
Jane shot him a half smile, trying not to stare, but it wasn’t easy, seeing him in a pair of gray sweatpants and nothing else, lifting weights. Beads of perspiration coated his bare chest and his skin gleamed in the morning light filtering into the garage. His arms bunched and muscles popped as he finished his repetitions with arm weights.
Pulse racing, Jane set the mugs down on a worktable, fearing she’d drop them otherwise. Pumped up and hard, Mac was the most physically fit man she’d ever seen.
So that was what lay beneath his tan-and-brown sheriff’s uniform.
Jane’s mouth went dry. She sipped her coffee, acting nonchalant and trying to keep her focus. She’d come out here for a reason. Ogling the sheriff hadn’t been her intent, yet she couldn’t deny the attraction. She felt drawn to Mac Riggs and that wasn’t a good thing.
Mac finished his workout and sat down on a bench, wiping sweat from his brow. Jane watched him swipe at his torso with a small white towel. “I want to thank you for breakfast,” she stated quickly. “I ate oatmeal. I guess I’m not much of a breakfast eater.”
He swept a long, leisurely look over her body. Heat crawled up her neck and suddenly she felt self-conscious in Lizzie’s tight clothes.
“Guess not. I should have known.”
“Now we do know.”
“Right,” he said, his gaze lifting from her chest to her eyes.
“I guess you don’t need coffee,” she said lamely, showing him the mug.
He brought a big bottle of water to his lips and took a swig. “No, but thanks for the thought.”
“Speaking of thoughtful,” she said, “I really liked the red rose. Is it from your garden?”
He sipped water again, and Jane watched his throat work, taking it in. “Lizzie’s doing. I cook. She sets the table. She loves her flowers.”
“Oh,” Jane said, kicking herself for the assumption. Of course Mac wasn’t the sentimental or romantic type. Why would he have put that rose on the table for her? She was his houseguest, not his lover. “I’ll have to thank her. So is this your hobby?”
Mac glanced around the garage at his workout stations. Jane figured he had half a regular gym in here, from free weights to Nautilus machines, mats and benches.
“It’s my job,” he said, and when he met Jane’s eyes, she chuckled.
He cracked a smile and she realized that they had their own private joke. “Okay, I have to keep fit for work. It’s just easier doing it at home, on my own schedule. And I guess I do enjoy it. I run through a thirty minute workout most mornings before work, and when I’m off duty, I go an hour or two.”
Jane swept another gaze around the garage. “For a home gym, it’s quite impressive.” And so was he.
Mac nodded. “Thanks. You know, not that you need it, but you’re welcome to use my equipment anytime you want. It’s always good to stay in shape.”
“You are,” she blurted, and then caught herself. She added quickly, “Very nice to offer. Maybe I will sometime.”
Use your equipment. Oh boy, Jane, she thought. Get out of here before you make a complete fool of yourself.
“What time will you be ready?” she asked.
“Give me ten minutes to take a quick shower, then we’ll be out of here.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll meet you inside.”
And she made herself a mental note not to go traipsing after Mac Riggs when he worked out in the garage.
It was far too dangerous.
Four
H alf a dozen deputies huddled around Jane, waiting on introductions. “Back off,” Mac said. “Give the lady some breathing room.”
The deputies didn’t budge, except to bump each other as they offered handshakes and made small talk with her. Deputy Sheriff Marion Sheaver, his favorite colleague, if the crustiest deputy on the force, pulled him aside. She was six months from retirement and always had an opinion.
“She’s beautiful,” she said, “and quite a big deal around here. It’s been a slow week and a mysterious woman with no memory can liven things up. Let the boys talk to her. I bet she could use some new friends.”
“Friends?” Mac glared at his deputies, trying to shake off the protective feelings he had for Jane. She was his responsibility, nothing more. But sensations whirled through him as he watched his men gawk at her as if she were some prize to be won at the county fair. “I doubt friendship is on their minds.”
“And what about you, Mac? What’s on your mind?”
“She’s just a case, Marion.”
“You took her in,” she said, raising her graying brows. “She’s living with you.”
“Me and Lizzie. And don’t forget, when I found her she had no memory, no money, no identification. She’s not the type of woman to go into a shelter, for Pete’s sake. She was pretty freaked out about her situation.”
Marion scratched her head and eyed him. Mac always hated that particular look on her face. It usually meant a lecture was coming. Or an opinion he didn’t want to hear. “She’s beautiful.”
Mac folded his arms, ready for battle. “You said that already.”
“You like her.”
“I don’t know her. Hell, she doesn’t know her. Jane’s got amnesia, remember. She’s just learning about herself.”
“Mac, it’s about time you got involved with a woman again. If not your Jane Doe, then someone else.” Marion shook her finger at him. “You’re too good a man to live alone.”
He rolled his eyes. “Not this again.”
“You had a bad experience, but that was years ago.”
“Deputy Sheaver, don’t go there.”
“Don’t pull rank on me, Mac. You know I’m gunning for you.”
“Yeah, it’s your mission in life to see me tied down before you retire.”
“And let Lizzie have a life of her own.”
/>
Mac’s eyes went wide. “I’m not stopping her from anything. She’s a grown woman. She can do anything she wants.”
Marion shook her head and closed her eyes briefly. “If you believe that, then you’re missing all the clues. And for a man in your profession, that’s a real crime.”
Mac stalked off, heading for Jane, parting his men and taking her arm. “Ready?” he asked her, making eye contact with each one of his deputies. Funny thing, but the only men seeking out her “friendship” were his unattached bachelor deputies. “Let’s get those fingerprints now.”
He glanced at his staff. “Don’t you have work to do?”
Jane smiled at the officers. “Nice meeting you all.”
Mac grunted as the men slowly made their back to their desks.
“Is everyone in Winchester County so nice?” Jane asked, and Mac realized that she had no clue as to how attractive she was. He found that quality endearing. He wondered if she came by that trait naturally, or was it due to her recent memory loss? Who was the real Jane Doe? And why was it so hard containing his attraction to her?
“Nosy is what I’d call them. Good men, each one, but your appearance here in Winchester has caused quite a stir.”
“Really? Why?”
Mac shrugged, then placing his hand on the small of her back, led her down the hallway to be fingerprinted. Maybe they’d get lucky and get a hit before the end of the day. Then this unsettled feeling he’d been experiencing would disappear—when Jane left town.
“It’s a small community. We get petty thefts and local disputes, but we’ve never had an amnesia victim show up on our doorstep. You’re quite a mystery.”
“I wish I wasn’t.”
“Maybe we’ll have some luck through AFIS. Let’s hope for good news.”
“But what if that doesn’t work? What if my fingerprints aren’t in there?”
Mac halted, hearing the slight desperation in her voice. “Don’t worry, Jane. There’s more to do. We have a protocol. The next step would be to go to the local media. That’s why I asked about identifying marks on your, uh, body.” Mac immediately recalled their conversation about Jane’s birthmark. He hadn’t dreamed of it or her, like he’d said last night, but the woman had never been far from his mind since he’d met her, birthmark and all.
Jane’s blond brows rose to attention and she had this uncanny way of raising one brow higher than the other that drove him wild. “You mean for me to go on television?”
“Not exactly. We’d release a picture of you for the newspapers and television stations, along with what we know about you. We’d do spots on local radio stations as well, with your description and details about how you were found. We’d publicize anything that would help someone identify you.”
“Oh, when would we do that?”
“We can do so as soon as I can make the arrangements.”
“What do you think I should do?” she asked, looking up at him with those big blue eyes. It was clear that she trusted him, and he didn’t want to abuse that trust.
Mac placed his hand on her back again and they began walking slowly. “I say go for it. The more we do, the faster we can get results. I only hesitated about the media because being exposed like that tends to make some people uncomfortable. We can wait on it and hope you remember something, or we can move straight ahead.”
Jane listened intently, then nodded. “Let’s move ahead. And I hate to be a pessimist, but what if nothing works?”
Mac held her stare, reassuring her. “There’s more to do if we come up empty with all of this.”
“Like what?”
“DNA samples, hypnotist…But let’s not jump the gun. I’ll explain all this to you later.” He stopped again once they reached the window whose sign read Fingerprints. “Here we are. Margie will take you through the process. I’ll be in my office. Check with me when you’re through.”
Jane nodded and Mac left her, heading back to his office. Jane was one concern, but now Marion had planted a bug in his head about Lizzie.
And it was all Mac could think about the rest of the day.
“You’re home earlier than I expected,” Lizzie said, as she set down a mass of papers on the entry table and walked over to the living room sofa. Jane had spent the bulk of the afternoon reading. She’d found a Dean Koontz novel on the fireplace mantel and figured it would be a good way to pass the time.
“Hi, Lizzie. I could say the same about you. Finals all through for the day?” She set the book down, happy to have Lizzie’s company for the moment.
“Yep, and I thought I’d bring the essays home, rather than read them in the classroom. This way I can get comfy and put my feet up. Makes for a more generous grade for my students.” She grinned.
“I bet you’re pretty generous to them, anyway. What subjects do you teach?”
Lizzie sat down next to her on the sofa and sighed. “What subjects don’t I teach? I’ve been around a while and I’ve taught everything from home economics and art to journalism and English. Right now I’m teaching tenth grade English and history.”
“Wow, that’s pretty impressive. Do you have a favorite subject?”
“Mmm, I love American history. But it’s a challenge getting my students excited about our heritage.”
Jane couldn’t remember her school days, so she had little to add. She didn’t know her favorite subject or whether she had appreciated American history while she was in school.
“How was your day?” Lizzie asked, making herself comfortable on the sofa. She kicked off her sandals and lifted her legs, tucking her feet under her. Her earnest approach and guileless nature was what Jane liked best about Lizzie Riggs. She felt immediate warmth and a budding friendship with her.
“My day went well. Your brother’s doing all he can for me. I spent the morning getting fingerprinted, and then Mac had me go through some missing persons reports. I guess time will tell. But I did meet some of the nicest deputies today. Everyone seemed so friendly. One of the men asked about you. A Lyle Brody?”
Lizzie’s brown eyes rounded in surprise and her voice went raspy. “Lyle asked for me?”
It seemed that Lizzie’s whole demeanor changed then. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree and she sat up, leaning in, on full alert. Her body language couldn’t be mistaken. Lizzie had the hots for Lyle Brody.
“He sure did. He said to say hello and that you should stop by the jail again real soon.”
Lizzie’s face took on a dreamy quality. “He didn’t.”
Jane grinned. “He did. He also said that I was lucky to be staying with you, because you’re the best cook in Winchester County. Did you cook for him?”
Lizzie beamed, though she tried darn hard to hide the fact. “Well, yes. But not really. I mean to say, Mac started this thing at the jail. The last Friday of every month they have Potluck Pantry. He’s got so many darn bachelors on the force that he decided once a month his deputies should get a decent meal. So some of us pitch in and cook them up enough food for lunch and dinner.”
“That’s nice. And Lyle likes your cooking in particular?”
Lizzie shrugged modestly. “I suppose.”
Jane figured Lizzie to be in her late twenties. She was cute and friendly and had a great personality. There had to be a reason why she wasn’t married, or at least dating. And Jane had a feeling that the reason had to do with Mac. Lizzie had made a comment once before about her loyalty to her brother.
“So, if he likes your cooking so much, why not cook him up a meal…in private?” Jane pressed.
Lizzie nodded. “I’ve thought about it, hundreds of times, but…”
“But?”
“It’s complicated.”
“So, un-complicate it.”
“If only Mac would settle down again,” she said quietly, and Jane guessed that she hadn’t meant her comment to be heard.
“Mac is a big boy, Lizzie,” Jane said sweetly. She didn’t want to overstep her bounds, but she also wanted to h
elp her new friend.
“I know. But he’s taken care of me for fifteen years. I can’t abandon him now. I can’t…leave my brother alone.”
“Have you spoken to him about this?”
Lizzie shook her head. “No. Mac’s protective. You know, the big brother syndrome. He doesn’t think anyone’s good enough for me. He’s kind of in the stone age about things like that.”
“Maybe it’s time you shook him into the twenty-first century.”
Lizzie took a good long minute to think about it, then smiled, her face beaming again. She gave Jane the oddest look and patted her knee. “Maybe I should. Thanks, Jane. I think you’ve hit upon something here.”
She grabbed her essay papers and sighed with contentment. “I’ll be hibernating in my room for two hours, then I’m off. I have a dinner meeting tonight. I’ll be home kind of late. You don’t mind cooking a meal for Mac, do you?”
“No,” Jane said, watching her leave the room with a bounce in her step. “Of course not.”
The strangest sensation swept over Jane. She shuddered involuntarily. Relying on her powers of deduction as well as a gut feeling, she surmised that something significant had just happened, something to do with her and Lizzie’s hunky brother.
Mac entered the kitchen and cursed under his breath. “Where the hell is Lizzie?”
“What?” Jane turned around from her task at the kitchen counter, looking puzzled. “Did you say something?”
“It’s nothing,” he answered, hanging up his hat and gun belt on the hook by the door. He already knew the answer. Lizzie’s car wasn’t in the driveway and she wouldn’t be home for dinner tonight. Again. This made three consecutive nights that she had been long gone when he arrived home from work.
Mac knew exactly what his little sister was up to. Lizzie and Marion had been prodding him for years to get involved with a woman again. Lizzie’s absence again tonight, the fact that she’d chosen the most revealing clothes to give Jane to wear, the fact that Jane looked like a damn cover model in those clothes, all had Mac’s nerves on edge.
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