The Perfect Ten Boxed Set

by Dianna Love

  Shutterbug ran up behind Scott.

  “That’s a compliment, right?” Scott picked up Shutterbug and shoved the puppy into Kasey’s arms. “Forgive us?”

  “Don’t you blame that thing on Shutterbug. She’s traumatized, too.”

  “Sorry.” Scott closed the bathroom door. “You can use the other bathroom from now on. Will you stay?”

  She didn’t say no, but he could see the wheels turning. “We want you to stay.” He took Shutterbug from her and held the puppy next to his cheek. They both panted. “Please?”

  “We already let the dinner swim away,” she said.

  “I can cook something else. It’ll give me a chance to impress you with my culinary skills again.” Shutterbug licked Kasey’s nose.

  “How can you say no to that?” he asked.

  “This is moving kind of fast.” She ran her hand through her hair. “I just don’t want to mess up our friendship by starting something I can’t finish. I —”

  “Don’t. Let’s just take it a day at a time. No promises. Our focus is just getting through each day, and finding Jake.”

  She patted Shutterbug on the head.

  “That’s it, Kasey. I promise.”

  He stooped a little to get eye-to-eye with her and smiled. “And Shutterbug. We have to keep Shutterbug happy, too.”

  She smiled a little smile.

  He put his arm around her shoulders, and they walked back into the living room.

  Kasey gave him a sidelong glance as they sat down. “We couldn’t disappoint Shutterbug, and I am anxious to see if you can cook something else besides steaks on the grill.”

  “Oh, you’ll be impressed.”

  She raised a brow. “Impress away.”

  Shutterbug barked.

  “Shutterbug has her doubts,” Kasey said.

  “I think she’s just hungry. Let’s take her back to Maggie and feed them. Then I’ll work my magic on something wonderful for you.”

  Kasey looked worried.

  She has to feel the attraction. I sure as hell can’t deny it. “Dinner.” He rolled his eyes. “I mean dinner.”

  Scott made a salad and stuffed pork chops for dinner. Kasey wiped her mouth and sat back from the table after eating every bite. “I’m going to tell you right now, I am never cooking for you. I’m a bad cook on my own, but compared to you.... Well, there is no comparison.”

  “It can’t be that bad.”

  “Trust me. You don’t want to find out.”

  Scott cleared the dishes and stacked them in the dishwasher. Then he and Kasey went back into the living room where Scott channel-surfed until he found a movie they could watch.

  “I probably ought to head home,” she said.

  “Why don’t you stay here? Or I can drive you home, then come back and pick you up in the morning to go to the police department in Southampton County. You haven’t slept. You don’t need to be behind the wheel.”

  “No. Don’t be silly. You don’t have to do that.”

  Scott cocked a brow. “We’re adults, and I do have a guest room.”

  She sat up. “The guest room?”

  “Sure.”

  She relaxed back into his arms. “Okay. I am kind of comfy. Can I borrow the sweats to sleep in?”

  “Anything you want.”

  She fell asleep in his arms, still in her clothes, within the hour. He finished watching the movie and then turned off the television.

  Kasey didn’t stir. She had to be exhausted. He wrapped his arms around her and snuggled his chin into the nook of her shoulder. That’s where they stayed, there on the couch, all night.

  * * * *

  Scott held Kasey in his arms. The sun hadn’t been up long, but his body clock had tripped about fifteen minutes ago.

  Kasey stirred.

  “Good morning,” whispered Scott, then kissed her hair. “Did you sleep well?”

  She twisted to look up at him. “I did. Thank you.”

  “How are you feeling today? Fresh air and good sleep make you feel a little stronger?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”

  “Repeat after me,” he said. “Jake is coming home. I know it in my heart and mind.”

  She repeated each word and took his hand in hers.

  He rubbed his thumb over the top of her hand. “We pray for his safe return and know that God will bring him home.”

  “We pray for his safe return and know that God will bring him home,” she said, followed by a deep breath. “And with you here to help me, how could I go wrong?”

  “I wasn’t going to say that,” he teased.

  “But I mean it. Thanks, Scott.”

  He squeezed her tight. “Are you ready for some coffee?”

  “Don’t move. I can’t cook, but I make a mean cup of coffee.” She stood and stretched her arms over her head. “Last night is the first whole night’s sleep I’ve had in a while. Thanks for yesterday.”

  “I had a nice day, too.” He swatted at her butt with a throw pillow as she headed out of the room.

  She went into the kitchen, then leaned back into the room. “Where’s the coffee?”

  “In the cabinet right above the coffeepot.”

  “Got it,” she said. “Don’t move.”

  He plopped back on the couch, waiting.

  A few minutes later Kasey walked in carrying a mug in each hand. “Here you go.”

  He took a sip of the coffee. “You’re right. Perfect.”

  “What time are we going to the station?” she asked.

  “I told them we’d be there around eight-thirty.”

  “Good. We’ve got some time. I’m going to run down to the boathouse and see the puppies while you shower and get ready. Is that okay?”

  “Sure. And hey, while you’re down there, will you feed Maggie and put a bowl of the soft food out for the puppies?”

  Kasey grabbed his jacket from the hook next to the door. “You got it.”

  At the station, Kasey and Scott followed their escort to a big room with only a table in it, and six large boxes of files and evidence from the case.

  “Goodness gracious. Where do we start?” Kasey looked at the numbered boxes stacked on the floor.

  “Systematic approach. Let’s start with number one,” Scott said. “You review the log, and I’ll look over the items. Then we’ll switch.”

  Kasey opened the box. The summary sheet was long, with the bagged evidence neatly lined up in the box. Scott reviewed the contents of each bag, placing a cardboard divider in its place to insure they maintained the logged order.

  After three tedious hours, they’d reviewed the content of two boxes. Even though the items were catalogued, going through them was still a mind-numbing exercise. The original investigative team had spent weeks examining the evidence, piece-by-piece, cataloging and tagging every little snippet they’d collected before Hurricane Ernesto hit.

  Scott ordered lunch in so they wouldn’t have to stop the review. They continued to work through the junk. That’s what most of it was: Trash, wrappers, coins, cigarette butts, even a miniature American flag, but nothing that yielded any ah-ha moments.

  Kasey put the last plastic bag back in box three.

  “That’s it,” she said.

  “I’d hoped maybe something would trigger a thought or an idea, or make the connection to Libby Braddock. It was worth a try.” Scott rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “I’m sorry to have gotten your hopes up.”

  She wrapped her hands around his arm. “Don’t say that. Anything that might help is worth it. Thank you.”

  They signed the return forms to check the boxes in with the clerk at the evidence desk. They’d made a copy of the logs for Scott to take with him. He signed for those, too.

  Scott pulled in front of his house and put the car in park. Kasey jumped out, ran to her car and pulled out into the street in front of him so he could follow her home. He’d insisted.

  When they got to her house, she walked to his
truck. “Are you going to come in?”

  “I didn’t want to crowd you. Thought you might need some time to yourself.”

  She shook her head. “No, I’d like you to come in.”

  He shut off the engine and followed her to the door.

  “Looks like you had a delivery.” He nodded toward a large box on the porch.

  “I wonder what that is? I’m not expecting anything.” She stooped down to read the return address. She shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  Scott lifted the box with a grunt. “Whatever it is, it’s heavy.”

  She unlocked the door, and he followed her inside. “Just set it over there in the living room. Let’s see what it is.”

  He placed the box on the floor and Kasey came out of the kitchen with a pair of scissors. She sliced through the tape and opened the box. There was a light blue envelope with her name printed on the front, on top of a stack of books.

  “These are the Cody Tuggle tour books.” The cover of the coffee-table-size picture book was glossy. She ran her hand across the familiar picture. “I had no idea they were sending me a whole box of them.” She flipped one open and thumbed through the pages. “Gosh, it looks great.”

  She handed him a copy.

  “You took all these pictures?”

  “Sure did.” She moved next to him and pointed to a photograph. “I was on the catwalk over the audience when I took that one. It was amazing. I could feel the heat, their energy. I’ve never felt anything like it before.”

  “You sure didn’t seem like such a daredevil yesterday?’

  She laughed. “It was pretty cool. When I get in the zone behind that lens I’m much braver.”

  “Talented, too.” He turned the pages, glancing at picture after picture of Cody, the band and fans. He flipped back to the first pages. “Hey, this one is autographed for you.”

  “Let me see.” She took the book and read the inscription. “That was so sweet.”

  “Sounds like a pretty friendly note from a client,” Scott said. Even a little jealous, though he had no right to be.

  “We spent a lot of time together on tour. It was right after the accident. He’s a good friend.”

  “What’s that mean in the note about seeing you in Texas?”

  “I didn’t tell you about the cookbook? We’re doing a barbecue coffee-table book. I’m going to shoot his team cooking at an annual BBQ cook-off this fall.”

  “So you’re going to Texas?”

  “Yep. We signed a contract for it a few months ago.”

  Why do I always fall for the city girls? “So, when do you jet-set off?”

  “That’s not until Labor Day weekend.”

  “I sure can’t compete with a guy like that,” Scott said, tossing the book on the coffee table. He regretted his words as soon as they came out of his mouth.

  “This isn’t a competition, and I’m no prize. And even if I were available, I already told you, Cody is just a friend.”

  “You’re right. I was out of line,” Scott said. “How about I make you some tea while you go through that stuff.”

  “That sounds good.” Kasey sat on the floor and flipped through the book.

  Scott filled a mug with water and microwaved it for Kasey’s tea, then started opening drawers, looking for a spoon. Just after he closed the drawer next to the stove, he paused and re-opened it. Amidst the batteries, stamps, paperclips and sticky notes in the junk drawer, there were a dozen butterscotch candies and a couple of empty wrappers. He picked up one of the candies and held it in his hand, then stuffed it into his pocket. He opened the next drawer and retrieved a spoon just as the microwave signaled. He dropped the tea bag into the hot water, stirred in a teaspoon of sugar, then grabbed his beer and went back into the living room.

  Kasey had pushed the box of books to the corner of the room. She sat on the couch, going through yesterday’s mail.

  “Here you go,” he said, handing her the mug. “What are you going to do tomorrow? Any plans?”

  Kasey placed the hot mug on the table beside her. “I was just thinking about that. Busy is the best thing I can do; besides pray, so I think I’m going to drive to Virginia Beach and visit my grandmother. I'm way overdue.”

  “That sounds like a good idea.”

  “I’ll have my cell. You’ll call me if you hear anything, right?”

  “You can count on it,” he said. “I’m heading home. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

  “Thanks for everything.” She walked him to the door and gave him a hug, then watched as he left. Am I wishing you would stay?

  The phone rang, shattering the moment. She ran to answer it before the call went to voice mail.

  “Did you get the box? The book is awesome,” Cody said.

  “I did. I know. I was just looking at it.”

  “It’s going to be a hit, but enough about that. I wanted to see how you’re doing.”

  “Some days are better than others. We’re still looking—and waiting.”

  “The wait won’t be as long as it has been.”

  “Thanks to you.”

  “That’s what friends do: help each other,” Cody said. “Speaking of which. I have a favor to ask.”

  “Sure. Anything. What’s up?”

  “I told you about Lou, remember?”

  “Yep. You saw her?”

  “It was like old times. The chemistry, everything.”

  “Cody, that’s great.”

  “I know. We’re going to give things a try. Thanks so much for the lecture. I never would have tried to contact her if it hadn’t been for you.”

  “I’m so excited for you.”

  “Lou and I’ve already wasted too much time. So here’s the favor part.”

  “Ask already, would ya?”

  “I’m flying in to see her. Would you mind if she meets me at your place?”

  “Here?”

  “Yeah. I can land at the Greensville-Emporia strip. It’s secluded out there. No paparazzi or people waiting for flights. No one to start rumors. I promise we won’t impose long. I’d like you to meet her.”

  “I’d love that. When?”

  “It’s short notice.” Cody cleared his throat. “If it’s not a good time, just say no. Tomorrow, if you can swing it. If not, don’t sweat it. I can have her wait for me there at the airport. I just thought it would be nicer this way.”

  “I’m glad you thought of me. No problem at all. It’s the least I could do for you. Do you need me to pick you up at the airport?” Kasey’s mood lifted. It would be good to see him again.

  “I’ll call you and let you know when we have an ETA.”

  “Y’all are welcome to stay here overnight if you need to, depending on how the schedule works out.”

  “That would be great. You won’t tell anyone about us coming into town, will you?”

  “No way. I’ve seen first-hand what the press does with news about you. I won’t tell a soul.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The next morning Kasey got up early to get ready for the drive to Virginia Beach. Flat gray clouds sprawled across the sky. The forty-percent chance of scattered showers looked more like the chance of a dark, stormy day. But she didn’t let that stop her from moving forward.

  She put on a pair of khaki’s and a black top. Then, she took off the black shirt and tossed it on the bed. She went back into the closet, picked out a hot pink sweater and slipped it on. Pleased with the switch, she turned and looked at herself in the mirror. The brighter the better. Anything to help keep my mood in check.

  She leaned closer to the mirror and put on some plum crazy lip color, smacked her lips, and then hit the road.

  Positive thoughts. Only positive thoughts.

  Instead of calling ahead to set up time with her grandmother, she decided she’d just take things at her own pace.

  Heading east on Route 58, she had an idea as she neared Main Street. She flipped her blinker on and turned right. Parallel parking had never been her
forte, but that’s all they did in this part of town. She cruised to the end of the block until she found an opening with two spots in front of the bakery—she could negotiate her tiny car to the curb there, for sure. Floral & Hardy was a short walk up the block.

  This was her first time in the flower shop, though the name had stuck with her since the day she met Chaz Huckaby. His shop was right across the street.

  “Can I help you?” asked the young man behind the counter.

  “Yes. By the way, I love the name of your shop.”

  “Thanks. I’m Ted Hardy. You must be new around here.”

  “I am. I need an arrangement. Do you have any pre-made?” she asked.

  The young man hurried around the counter and led her to the glass front refrigerators on the other side of the store. “Heavens, yes. What’s the occasion?”

  “Not an occasion. I wanted to put something graveside.” She shook her bangs away from her eyes. “My husband.”

  He slumped and put his hand on her arm. “I’m sorry. Has it been long?”

  “Not even a year.”

  “Oh, my golly. I have just the thing.” He slapped the refrigerator door shut. “You don’t want something fresh. The deer will just gobble it up or it will wilt and look like crap in a few days. Follow me.”

  He whisked behind the counter. “Come on, you can come back here. I was just finishing this.”

  She stepped behind the counter and into the back room. It looked like a ribbon-and- flower truck had blown up in there. Snippets of leaves and flowers, ribbon, and lace littered the table.

  Ted turned around and held up a gorgeous arrangement. “Tah-dah! What do you think?”

  “It’s perfect.” Almost burgundy-colored roses, gold mums and white carnations fanned out among tons of greenery. “Very masculine. I love it.”

  “It needs a ribbon. What color? No, wait. What was your husband like?” His mouth pursed, as he seemed to size her up, then he gave her a knowing look. “Outdoorsy fellow. Handsome, too, I bet.”

  “Yes. That’s Nick. Very outdoorsy. Farmer, hunter, the whole thing.”