by Tanya Agler
Georgie picked one and removed the wrapper. “There’s more. Max knows.” She bit into the muffin, the warm goodness calming her frayed nerves. “It was all I could do to talk him out of coming back.”
“He’s staying in Florida, right?” Heidi’s brows furrowed. “He has to. His life might depend on it.”
“I think I convinced him. You might want to call him later and back me up.” Georgie demolished the rest of the muffin with a vengeance.
Heidi gave her a side hug. “Of course, darlin’. I just thank the good stars above you weren’t hurt.”
Georgie sighed and wiped her hands, crumbs falling to the ground. Keeping the repair shop running was key to Max staying in Florida until he knew the extent of his condition. “We won’t be able to open for a couple of hours. The mess will take a while to clean up.”
“Honey, that’s the least of my worries. If you’d walked in...” Heidi shuddered. “They might have hurt you. Or worse still, they could have...” She narrowed her eyes. “Good thing I didn’t walk in. The doctors would still be picking buckshot out of the robber’s backside.”
Heidi’s husband, Travis, came up behind Heidi and started massaging his wife’s shoulders. “Now, honey, give Georgie some room. She’s had a shock.”
A shock that could cost her dearly. If Brett Cullinan heard of her negligence, she could kiss her chances on the pit crew goodbye. She glanced over at Mike near his squad car. A lost job might be the least of her worries.
“Nonsense.” Heidi shooed her husband away. “She needs TLC. Have another muffin.”
Travis pulled at Heidi’s arm. “We’ll ask Harrison if we can go inside.”
They skedaddled, and Georgie furrowed her brows. Why the sudden rush to get away? Oh. A new model cream Mercedes convertible pulled up alongside her, and the answer became obvious. Her mother had arrived, her hazel eyes twitching just as they always did when she was determined to get her way.
No one who valued peace argued with Beverly Bennett.
“Georgianna Victoria! Is the news I heard from Harriet the dispatcher true? Was there a burglary here?” Beverly fanned herself with her hand.
“Yes, Mom. Hi, Kitty.” Georgie whooshed out a breath, causing the bangs on her forehead to fly about before settling again. “But, Mom, you should be in bed instead of driving around with Kitty. No offense.”
Georgie waved at her mother’s best friend. Kitty waved back and switched off the car’s ignition. Her sympathetic look was a sight friendlier than her mother’s disapproving frown.
“None taken. I was more worried your mother’s blood pressure would go up until she saw you were safe and sound.” People often underestimated Kitty with her soft voice, but the slender reed of a woman possessed a backbone of steel. Had to, being married to the local district attorney and staying close to Beverly all these years.
“Don’t talk about me as though I’m not here.” Beverly’s chin went up. “You should have called me, Georgianna. Imagine how I felt when someone else delivered the frightful news. Get in the car. We’ll go straight to cousin Odalie’s dress shop. Working at a dress shop is much more respectable than this repair shop.” Beverly sniffed, her nose scrunched up with disdain.
Georgie’s back stiffened as it always did whenever her mother went off on a similar tangent, which was near close to every day.
“I love being a mechanic.” Then again, was her mother onto something? Kevin had spat out her lack of feminine wiles as his rear had collided with her front door. Georgie disagreed. She liked herself and wouldn’t change for anyone. “Besides, the thief is long gone. I doubt he’ll be back. All of this activity can’t be good for your recovery. You need to go home and rest.”
“Surely the doctor didn’t perform my stent surgery last Friday so I could stay in bed while you’re toiling in a hotbed of criminal activity.” Beverly placed one hand over her heart and her other hand over her forehead.
“The officer investigating the breaking and entering is still here, talking to Mr. Reedy.” Georgie pointed toward the bench. “What’s safer than police on the premises? Not to mention Beau, Mr. Reedy’s dog.”
“Oh, goodness mercy,” exclaimed Beverly. “You call that a dog? That’s a monstrosity on legs. No self-respecting female would be caught dead with that beast. A poodle or Maltese, yes, but that?” She shuddered.
Georgie drew in another breath, knowing what her mother was about to say as well as she knew who manufactured the best spark plugs for this Mercedes.
“Thank goodness I’m allergic to animals and cannot have anything like that in my house.”
Beads of sweat popped out on her mother’s pale face. Beverly shouldn’t even be out of bed yet, let alone traveling all over Hollydale. Georgie stepped toward the car.
“Are you okay? Do you need to see your doctor?” Georgie pulled out her smartphone from her jeans at the same time Kitty whipped hers out of her Coach handbag.
“I’m fine.” Beverly sure didn’t sound fine, the mere whisper most unlike her normal full bluster.
Georgie hovered, not buying her mother’s easy brush-off. Beverly squinted, and Georgie bristled at the question she could predict was coming.
“Is Michael Harrison the officer assigned to this case?”
And there it is.
Beverly had been the only person to ever call Mike by his given first name rather than Mike, a gesture which he’d often rewarded with an eye roll.
“Yes, Mom.” Georgie sighed and flicked imaginary muffin crumbs off her T-shirt. “Why didn’t you tell me Mike was a cop?”
“I don’t like to talk about men who don’t keep promises. Mike broke my little girl’s heart.” Iciness marked Beverly’s tone.
“What happened on prom night is water under the bridge. Ancient history, to say the least.”
If her mother was going to be mad at anyone for breaking her heart, Georgie’s ex-fiancé, Kevin Doherty, had much more claim to that anger. Beverly rubbed her chest and moaned. Georgie sent a pleading glance toward Kitty.
“I think I am tired, after all. Kitty, dear, please be a darling and drive me home.”
“Of course.” Kitty restarted the car. In spite of everything, the purr of a strong, powerful engine made Georgie smile before it faded under her mother’s glare.
“Mom...”
“We’ll talk more about cousin Odalie’s kind offer of employment later.” Beverly’s piercing gaze didn’t escape Georgie’s notice.
With the recent stent implantation, Georgie wasn’t about to argue here. She wouldn’t do her mother’s bidding, either, but her mother didn’t have to know that this minute.
The convertible pulled out of the parking space, and Georgie was relieved. The feeling was short-lived as Mike made his way over, concern written in the fine etched lines on his forehead.
“Georgie, would you follow me to the bench?” Mike’s voice was distant, almost hollow.
Cold water went through her veins before she shook off her worry. If he’d meant to arrest her, he’d be reading her Miranda rights rather than walking her over to Mr. Reedy.
“Actually, I need to help Travis and Heidi.” Georgie jerked her thumb toward the garage. “Our first customers have bookings in less than fifteen minutes.”
Mike cleared his throat and stood his ground. Same DNA, same voice, same deep brown eyes. But the lanky teenager had grown up, a virtual stranger in his place, a stranger unconvinced of her innocence.
“How long has it been since Mr. Reedy’s eaten a substantial meal?” Mike lowered his voice enough so his words were for her ears only, a technique he’d perfected in the halls of Hollydale High.
“How should I know?” She spotted her former high school teacher being practically held up by Beau. Mr. Reedy’s gasps and wheezes were more audible than ever. This wasn’t good. Georgie sprinted over and she laid her hand on his
arm. “What’s wrong?”
Mr. Reedy sagged, and Mike rushed by her, his hand reaching out to support the frail man. “Georgie, I’m taking him to the ER.”
“Won’t leave my dog.” A coughing fit came over Mr. Reedy’s frail body.
Georgie threw her arms around Mr. Reedy’s shoulders, even thinner and bonier than she’d anticipated. Those blasted oxygen tubes were in the way, but they were sustaining him. She had to help.
“Say the word. I’ll deliver Beau to whoever you want to take care of him for the next couple of days.” Her gaze met Mike’s. The comfort she sought that Mr. Reedy would be in and out of the hospital in no time wasn’t there. “A neighbor? Anybody?”
“There’s no one.” Mr. Reedy spat out the admission like yesterday’s bad news. More coughs racked his lungs, and Beau licked his owner’s hand.
Georgie gestured at Beau and then at Mike. In the past he’d been good at reading her signals. Even now, a child would understand her signal, asking him to take care of Beau.
Mike shrugged and shook his head. “My daughter would have a fit if I brought Beau home. And I don’t even want to think about Ginger’s reaction to Beau.”
Blood rushed around her ears. Mike was married and had a daughter? Her mother should have warned her. Then again, why would she? Georgie never brought up the subject of Mike, even in passing. And she and Kevin had been planning their wedding, the invitations addressed and waiting to be mailed, before he decided another woman would take care of his every need much better than Georgie. This was getting silly. If Mike wouldn’t come to Beau’s rescue, she would. Mr. Reedy’s staggered breathing left her little choice.
“I’ll take Beau home with me.”
Beau’s giant tail thumped on the pavement. Without further ado, the dog scooted around and licked her hand.
Mike raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you say you were staying at your mother’s house?”
She nodded once.
“Isn’t your mother allergic to dogs?”
“And cats. And guinea pigs. And hamsters.” Georgie ticked off half a dozen animals on her fingers and huffed. “I’m in the garage apartment. She won’t come in contact with Beau.”
Mr. Reedy gasped out a breath. “I’m not going.”
“Oh, yes, you are. Beau and I will get along fine,” she assured him.
She glanced at Beau. With Mike eyeing her as a person of interest, her mother pleading with her to work elsewhere and Heidi peeking out the window taking in all the activity, the dog might be her only ally right now.
One she intended to keep on her side.
CHAPTER THREE
MIKE HUSTLED PAST the town square’s gazebo, the new white paint glistening in the rays of the afternoon sun. Nearby two tourists posed for a selfie on the gazebo stairs while their golden retriever danced around them. The maples and oaks would provide a nice backsplash of red in that photo. Mike raised his hand in a friendly greeting while his gaze locked in on Sheriff Rick Donahue.
Heading toward his boss, Mike scanned the local shops as familiar as his daughter’s smile. The Night Owl Bakery, Rachel’s favorite, where they’d stop for red velvet cupcakes on the Sunday afternoons he didn’t work. The Happy Paws Pet Shop, where he purchased Ginger’s cat food. Neither of those owners had reported burglaries yet, and he checked for any signs of broken windows or anything else that might signal an opportunity for the thief. Not finding anything unusual, he closed the distance between himself and the sheriff.
“Almost done finalizing the traffic plan for the art festival this weekend.” Donahue’s eyes never left his clipboard as he jotted notes. “Be with you in a sec.”
One more sweep of the businesses and buildings satisfied Mike, his senses on full alert for anything out of the ordinary. Making sure there wasn’t a sixth burglary was his top priority.
“Take your time.” Mike noted the new security camera over John Cobb’s real estate office. Good.
Donahue stopped writing and stuck his pencil stub into his pocket. Then he patted his stomach. “Melanie outdid herself last night with her lasagna for the whole family. Got to see our grandson for the first time since school started. Zachary’s smart as a whip. Last night was a sight better than this morning with the news of two more break-ins.”
“Yep.” Mike frowned. “The suspects struck early.”
“You said suspects, as in plural.” Tucking his clipboard under his arm, Donahue jerked his thumb toward his squad car. “You think someone’s working with a partner?”
Mike reviewed the two different cases and shook his head. “I’m not convinced the same person committed both of today’s burglaries.”
Donahue wiped the sweat off his forehead. “Any evidence of a copycat?”
A gut reaction wasn’t enough. “Not necessarily. In my report I detailed the differences. The main thing was the haul. At Max’s garage, the perp left behind electronics and anything that could be sold with relative ease.”
“Maybe that one was an inside job.” They reached Donahue’s squad car, and the sheriff reached in for his water bottle. After a few sips he pressed the bottle to his forehead. “I read your report. If we find those comic books, we’ll find the thief. Is Georgie Bennett back for good?”
Mike didn’t like the way Donahue connected those two thoughts without so much as a pause. “She just returned to Hollydale. She couldn’t have committed the other burglaries.”
Donahue scratched his chin. “Travis Crowe and I rode bikes together way back when, and Heidi’s the type that’ll give you the shirt off her back. Georgie’s been gone a long time. Real convenient someone knew where Max kept something valuable and stole his stash. Either this was part of the others and the burglar got sloppy, or it wasn’t.”
The hairs on the back of Mike’s neck bristled. While Mike had doubted Georgie for all of two seconds, Donahue seemed ready to bring her in for formal questioning on the spot.
Mike would do well to call his mom and warn her he’d arrive home late, even though he hated missing another dinner with Rachel. Reviewing the evidence and photographs of the crime scenes might be the best way to prove Georgie’s innocence and prevent another burglary.
* * *
A COLD BEER, a remote control and a comfortable bed. Three pieces of Mike’s idea of sheer heaven.
Unlocking his door, Mike walked into his modest cottage and flicked off the porch lights. Snapping his fingers, he turned the lights on again for what would be his mom’s short walk home, only two doors down. If it weren’t for her tending to Rachel without pay, he’d be in a world of hurt. Too often he offered her a twenty. Her reply? Diane Harrison would push her nose in the air and stomp away, muttering how her ungrateful son didn’t understand the bond between a grandmother and her granddaughter.
“Mom? Rachel?” Not even Ginger, princess kitty extraordinaire, was winding her furry orange body around his legs, as was her custom. “I’m home.”
“We’re in Rachel’s room, honey,” Mom’s voice rang out.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he stopped at Rachel’s doorway. Her legs crossed, Rachel sat on the floor with Mom behind her, her mouth full of bobby pins. His jaw slackened at Rachel’s upswept hairdo. For the love of everything holy, his daughter was eight going on eighteen. Whether she was born an old soul or his ex-wife’s desertion made her grow up too fast, he’d never know.
Rachel’s lip jutted out. “You don’t like my hair?”
“Of course I do.” Mike composed himself. “You just reminded me I’m going to have to fight the boys away all too soon.”
“Grandma painted my nails, too.” She jumped up and wiggled her fingers in his face. “Purple and pink.”
“We left you a bite of dinner.” Mom rose from the floor, came over and hugged him. “Pimento cheese and fried okra.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
Hold on.
Mom made her famous pimento cheese only when something was bothering her. One glance at her conflicted face confirmed his suspicions. “Spit it out.”
“Why don’t you both walk me home? Your father probably fell fast asleep on the couch while watching the Braves game.”
In other words she was going to take her sweet time in telling him. After today’s events he’d prefer for her to spit it out.
“We’d best hurry. School night.”
Rachel skipped ahead while Mike closed the front door behind them. The male crickets chirped their hearts out to attract the females of their dreams. Speaking of females, should he wait to drop his own bombshell about Georgie Bennett or listen to Mom’s news first?
Mike couldn’t wait. “You’ll never guess who’s back in town.” He’d drag it out, though. His love for a good guessing game often drove the other members of his family up Sully Creek, his favorite fishing spot.
“If you’re talking about Georgie Bennett, I’ve known since last Friday.” Gravel crunched under his mother’s black loafers.
He scuffed the dirt under the gravel pebbles. Was he always the last to know everything?
“Why didn’t you warn me?”
Rachel boomeranged back, hugged his side and skipped off again.
“Warn? That’s an interesting choice of words. At one time you and Georgie were inseparable.”
Until Mike had made a huge mistake. Then Georgie had not only called him out but declared their friendship over forever.
“I should have told you.” Mom squeezed his hand. “With all the overtime you’ve been logging, I thought you had enough on your plate.”
Little escaped Diane Harrison’s line of sight, much to his sister Natalie’s dismay. Mike often wondered if Mom’s influence, more than any other, led him to become a cop, a job he loved so much. No argument about his plate being full. Maybe when Donahue hired more officers would some of his workload begin to lessen. Until then...