The Sheriff's Second Chance

by Tanya Agler

  She shoved the receipt under Georgie’s nose and waved it about. Rachel giggled from the sidelines, a beautiful sound after last week.

  Georgie reached out for the receipt. A thousand dollars for four tires, and they weren’t even high-grade tires. Retreads at best. Shaking her head, she handed the receipt back to Natalie. “You were ripped off.”

  “What?” The word exploded out of Natalie as the rosy pink changed into a dull red. Her shoulders slumped. “You’re kidding.”

  Walking around the car, Georgie examined each tire. Sighing, she returned and folded her arms. “All four are in bad shape. The rear passenger’s side is the worst. It’s bare. That’s the sound Rachel heard.”

  Natalie fisted her hands, the receipt crushing under the weight. Georgie couldn’t say she blamed her. A thousand dollars for those pieces of rubber trash, not even fit for a junkyard? Con artists like that gave mechanics a bad name.

  Natalie took several deep breaths, her hands loosening their grip and her knuckles returning to their normal color. “The worst part is I was visiting my old college roommate, who lives five hundred miles away, over the summer break. Between teaching and Mike’s work schedule, I don’t have the time to drive back there so they can replace them.”

  At the sound of Mike’s name, Georgie’s ears perked up. “Mike’s work schedule?” Her attempt at nonchalance failed with a capital F. “Didn’t you mention a stakeout earlier?”

  “Oops. You didn’t hear that from me. It’s very hush-hush.” A slight spark lit some life into Natalie’s eyes. “Unless my ears deceive me, I think someone might like my brother. In which case, you might need your head examined.”

  She winked, but even so, Georgie’s defenses were raised. After all, she had promised her mother she’d keep everything professional and aboveboard. “I was only asking because I had the Thunderbird towed here on Saturday, and I plan to do the inspection tomorrow morning before I start on my scheduled repairs.”

  “Uh-huh.” Natalie clicked her tongue. “I believe you as much as I believe the owners who scammed me are going to give me a new set of tires out of the kindness of their hearts.”

  “It’s not safe to drive anywhere on that set, let alone five hundred miles.” Latching on to the obvious proved a good distraction technique, and Georgie ran with it. “If I were to call them right now, they’d give me a line about how they’re under new management or how someone must have swapped out the tires.”

  “What do you recommend?”

  A customer might have a hard time hearing about an expensive procedure, but she’d never get ahead by betraying a customer’s trust.

  “Four new tires.” Georgie glanced at Rachel, who was pulling on her bandage and shifting her weight from one side to the other, sure signs of boredom. “Let’s go in, and we’ll talk.”

  Natalie threw her arm around Georgie. “Where was someone like you when I got ripped off?” Sadness almost dripped from the words, and Natalie delivered a huge sigh. “Here I am, a summa cum laude graduate of Chapel Hill, and I don’t even know a new tire from a clunker.”

  Hmm. Some of the men in town didn’t trust Georgie yet. But there were single women like Natalie who needed someone honest, someone who wouldn’t give them a line or the runaround. Someone who would explain the procedure in detail and help them not get ripped off in the future.

  “You’ve just given me an idea.”

  The women of Hollydale needed a car care class.

  And Georgie was the perfect teacher.

  * * *

  MIKE CAREFULLY POURED coffee into his travel cup. None of his usual sugar in this brew. He’d made it double strong for tonight’s stakeout. Sheriff Donahue had nixed an electronic stakeout from the luxury of the station. Instead, Mike found himself in Melanie Donahue’s pristine pine-scented automobile, binoculars in hand, coffee at his side.

  Only the sheriff and he knew where he was—plus the sheriff’s wife knew, and Natalie. He’d made his sister, who was spending the night with Rachel, promise under the threat of setting her up on a blind date not to leak any information about his whereabouts. With any luck he would arrive home in plenty of time to see Rachel off to school tomorrow morning.

  He sent up a silent prayer for his daughter. A good night’s sleep had eluded her since she’d burned herself. Every night for the past week, her screams reached him and tore out his heart. Even now her wails echoed through him, and his jaw clenched.

  But duty called in the form of a sheriff, who reminded him, in no uncertain terms, Mike had missed three shifts last week. While all were family emergencies, Mike had no choice but to accept this assignment.

  Hopefully it wouldn’t be a wild-goose chase. Donahue had pinned the robberies on a map. Farr’s Hardware hadn’t fallen victim yet. Neither had the Holly Days Diner. Donahue’s plan was simple. Mike would scope out the buildings with his binoculars from a block away, while Donahue covered the rears near the dumpsters.

  Fatigue tore at Mike’s limbs. Coffee might help. He sipped the brew strong enough to lift a couple of hundred-pound barbells without any trouble. The streetlights provided him enough light from this vantage point, close enough to catch anyone in the act, far enough away not to be easily spotted. He glanced at his phone—only five more hours until he could call it quits.

  A shadow approached the front of his car. Any hint of sleepiness went away. Adrenaline jolted his body awake. He planted his hand on his Taser.

  “Mike? Is that you?” Georgie’s husky voice registered.

  His breath of relief could probably be heard in Tennessee.

  “Georgie Bennett.” He switched on the car’s ignition and used the door control, rolling down the shaded window enough for him to see most of her. “How did you know it was me?” This wasn’t his normal police cruiser.

  “You forget I’m a mechanic. Melanie Donahue brought the car in last week. A 2007 Hyundai Sonata, gray, tinted windows, dent in the back bumper, new Michelins.” She ran her hand along the window’s edge. “And Natalie told me this afternoon.”

  Oh, he was going to set his sister up with a doozy of a date.

  “Well, your sneaking up on me like that could have caused me to do something rash.”

  She leaned over so her face was boxed in the open square. “Beau made enough noise to wake up an army. Didn’t you hear him?”

  Rolling down the window the rest of the way, Mike stared at the big friendly dog, who had settled on his haunches and was listening as if he knew they were talking about him.

  “No, I didn’t.” He drained the rest of his coffee and shook off the last vestiges of his reverie. “What in the world are you doing walking a dog this late at night? It’s past eleven.”

  She scoffed. “I’d never have walked Beau this late in Boston, but, for crying out loud, Mike, this is Hollydale.” Her huff for emphasis didn’t escape him. “And Beau is a pretty good companion. Would you attack me with him at my side?”

  Mike glanced at the dog, his tongue lolling and his tail thumping away. Mike arched an eyebrow. “Ferocious guard dog there.”

  “When you have to go, you have to go.” She shrugged and delivered an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll take my chances out here rather than with my mother’s reaction if Beau had an accident in the middle of the night.”

  He’d concede that point. “This is a bad time for a chat. I’m on a stakeout. I shouldn’t be talking to anyone.”

  Georgie raised her hands, the leash flapping as she did so. “You’re a hard man to track down. I just wanted to tell you I’ve done a preliminary inspection of the Thunderbird. When’s a good time to talk to you about it?”

  Guilt racked him. Since Rachel’s accident, the car occupied the bottom rung of his priorities—just as it had the past eight years. To top everything off, he never had leveled with Georgie about the Thunderbird’s future. With the added expense of Rachel’s urge
nt care visit, the special cream and other prescriptions, selling the car sooner rather than later still made selling the car the better route.

  No matter what, though, a stakeout wasn’t the time or place to bring it up.

  “How’s tomorrow night?”

  “Shop closes at seven. If you and Rachel want to drop by around eight, I’ll have had a chance to collect Beau and walk him.” Georgie leaned over to the dog and gave him a good scratch around his ears.

  Mike half envied Beau, having Georgie all to himself.

  “As long as Rachel’s up to it.” He started to click the button and stopped as his gaze wandered over Georgie’s clothing. That black T-shirt clung to her curves but wasn’t the best color for walking in the dark, even with the bright streetlights flooding the area. “Next time wear something more appropriate for—”

  “My T-shirt and jeans are comfortable. I like what I’m wearing.”

  “I like your clothes, too.” And he liked the way she filled them out. There was nothing unfeminine about Georgie. “But the dark colors help you blend in with your surroundings, making it difficult to see you.”

  “Oh.”

  “For the record, your clothes become you. You’ve never tried to be something you’re not.” Something he didn’t always appreciate. Now that Georgie was back in Hollydale, he was starting to. “But you know, black at night...”

  His gaze swept over her. Black T-shirt, black jeans, dark sneakers. Not the usual attire for walking a dog late at night. No way. Georgie wouldn’t be so dumb as to rob the hardware store with Beau, would she? Of course not. It was so late he’d lost any sense of reason.

  Her eyes widened, and she backed away from the car. Her frostiness could have fogged up the window. “Don’t tell me...”

  But she knew. From the horror-filled expression on her face, she had as much as read his mind in the brief millisecond he’d imagined the worst.

  “Georgie!” He groaned. His uniform had changed everything between them in a flash. Although he wanted to go after her, he couldn’t give away his position. “Wait.”

  “I’m glad you’re not coming until tomorrow night.” She spat out the words, her gleaming green eyes pure weapons of destruction. “It will take me that long to cool down. You don’t really believe I walked here and brought a dog with me so I could break into somewhere.”

  When she put it that way, it did sound ridiculous. Why had he presumed the worst about her? Ever since she’d returned, she’d done nothing but help him and others.

  “Of course not.” His denial sounded rather lame, even to his own ears.

  “I am so glad I promised my mother I would keep our relationship strictly business.”

  She pivoted and stormed away.

  Cold air bit into him, and he closed the window before banging his head against it. Relationship? He and Georgie were involved?

  Satisfaction flowed through him, and he smiled.

  When all was said and done, they made a good team.

  But she’d promised her mother she’d keep whatever was simmering between him and her under the surface on a business level. Her mother? A month ago, he wasn’t sure whether Georgie had ever forgiven him and moved past the prom. Now she was discussing him with her mother.

  So their chemistry was off the charts enough so that they both were aware of it. For the first time in so long, he found himself believing he was good enough for a long-term relationship. There was something different about the Georgie who had returned. Always strong and decisive, she’d grown up while she was away, and it had turned her into a knockout. Her fieriness could thaw his cool exterior if he let her.

  But what had he done? For the second time he’d stopped short of flat-out accusing her of being a criminal.

  Hard to start a relationship if she was always wondering if he was going to arrest her any minute.

  “Mike?” Donahue’s voice crackled over the walkie-talkie. “Anything suspicious?”

  Grabbing the radio receiver, Mike hesitated. When he didn’t listen to his conscience, he always burned himself. First he had ditched Georgie for Wendy MacNamara and lost Georgie’s friendship for years. Then he’d gone to the bar after his grandfather’s funeral, got plastered to the wind and ended up marrying Caitlyn. His ex-wife hadn’t been ready for motherhood, or adulthood, either. The divorce papers proved that.

  Duty had to come first, and that compelled him to report what had just happened. “Made contact with a pedestrian walking her dog.”

  Donahue cleared his throat as more crackles came over the system. “Who was the pedestrian?”

  Mike’s stomach churned. He’d thrown Georgie under the bus all those years ago, but this? He felt like he was throwing her to the sharks this time. “Georgie Bennett.”

  “I don’t like coincidences.”

  “She’s watching Fred Reedy’s dog, Beau. Her mother isn’t...” Sometimes being diplomatic late at night wasn’t easy.

  “I’ve met Beverly Bennett. Say no more. I’ll check back later.”

  Mike traded the handset for his coffee. He didn’t like coincidences, either. Once they apprehended the real burglars, so much the better. Not only would Hollydale’s longest crime spree in ages come to an end, but he and Georgie could laugh about the misunderstanding.

  If he could ever persuade her he believed in her.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  IF SOMEONE HAD told Georgie she’d be spending her Friday nights in Hollydale with a muscular male with the most incredible brown eyes, she’d still be on the floor laughing. After all, Kevin’s farewell speech, the one where he’d harped on her independence, compelling him to find someone who devoted herself to him, had rung in her ears for over a year before she realized her worth.

  There was no doubt Beau fit that description, though, his brown eyes second only to Mike’s.

  “What do you say? Five more minutes until we give up on Mike and Rachel?” She tapped her watch and glanced at Beau, who trotted over. “Thirty minutes is long enough.”

  If she’d known the pleasure of spending Friday nights with a dog, she’d have adopted one long ago. Then again, she should have visited Hollydale more often. There’d been times over the past years she’d thought about her hometown while missing Mike, her friend who threw his whole self into laughter, especially at his own corny jokes. She missed the way he brought her a Diet Coke and a Snickers with only a few grumbles about girl food.

  She waited for that same sort of feeling about Kevin. None came. The truth was her ex-fiancé had never accepted her, tomboy ways and all. She was better off without him. Mike might accept her, but she didn’t even merit a call with an explanation of why he was a no-show.

  The other night he’d made it too clear he could think of her as a perpetrator. Was the robbery standing between them? She’d seen the flicker of doubt die in Mike’s eyes. Heard his contrition, too. But, for that brief second, Mike had doubted her. Her breath caught. Not any simple wrongdoing, either. Breaking and entering. Theft of valuable comic books. A felony.

  Sure, he trusted her with his grandfather’s Thunderbird. At one point he and his grandfather counted it as one of their most cherished possessions. If he cared about the car, why wasn’t he here? Was the car special, or was it an anchor dragging him down?

  A half-hour extension was beyond generous. No call. No email. No text. Nothing to let her know he valued the Thunderbird.

  Or her.

  “That’s enough time. Let’s go home, Beau.”

  Mike’s squad car pulled up into a parking spot, and her jaw clenched. It would serve him right if she handed him the Thunderbird keys and an order to have it towed to Foreman’s in Asheville.

  Mike and Rachel scurried out at the same time. Beau’s welcome bark rang out loud, broken by the simultaneous slamming of the car doors. Rachel ran over and petted Beau. Mike stopped short of ba
rreling into Georgie.

  Showing her displeasure with a frown, she tapped her foot and her watch. “I can’t work with someone who doesn’t respect...”

  “Please let me explain.” His rushed words came with that grin she’d seen so often over the years, the grin that had always melted her heart.

  Way back when, before dreams came with engagement rings and promises shattered with harsh words.

  Now she limited her dreams to what she could make a reality without depending on anyone else.

  “It was my fault, Miss Georgie.” Rachel came over and wrapped her arms around Georgie’s waist. “When I took out the recyclables, I left the door open. Ginger ran out.”

  “She climbed the tree right outside our back door.” Mike stopped and gave an exaggerated huff, reeking of playfulness. “How would it look if one of Hollydale’s finest had to call the fire department to get his cat out of a tree?”

  “I’d pay to see it.” She chuckled and rolled her eyes. Hard to stay mad at someone who made you laugh.

  “I fetched the ladder, climbed it and then wouldn’t you know it?”

  “Ginger jumped down all by herself.” Rachel tugged on Georgie’s T-shirt and roared with laughter, so much so she ended up doubling over. “It was so funny.”

  Mike winced. “Not really. My magic tricks are funny, but this? Possibly a four on a scale of ten.”

  He met Georgie’s gaze. A sizzle of energy passed between them.

  Georgie caught her breath and blinked first. “For Ginger’s sake, we’ll move forward. Next time call or something, okay?”

  “Got it.” Mike tapped his forehead with his index finger. “No note, no late excuse. A phone call, plain and simple.”

  “Better yet, don’t get in trouble again.” She glared at him, although she was smiling inside. Since she’d come back to Hollydale, Mike’s serious side had been in the forefront. Glad to see he was still in touch with the boy who’d made her laugh.

  He arched his eyebrows and chucked Georgie’s chin. “I’m not the one you need to worry about. Trouble should have been your middle name.”