by Cathie Linz
“We already confirmed that Logan is delusional.”
“Don’t make me come down there,” his granddad growled. “You know my interrogation skills can’t be beat.”
“You don’t have to come to Hopeful.”
“Then tell me what’s going on.”
“Why this sudden interest? First Mom grills me and now you.”
“I’ll bet she was trying to matchmake, wasn’t she? That’s nothing new. Why did that spook you?”
“I am not spooked,” Connor said.
“Because Doyle men don’t get spooked?”
“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I sure as hell don’t.”
“Right. And that’s why you left your job in Chicago and hightailed it out of town.”
“Being burned-out isn’t the same thing as being spooked. Undercover work is…”
“I know what it is,” his grandfather, a longtime veteran of the Chicago Police Department, said. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“I know you don’t approve. Logan stayed and I left. So that makes me what…a coward in your eyes?”
“No way. Sometimes the most courageous thing you can do is move on. I know too many cops get professionally numb over the years. They have to, in order to survive. But it can make them less of a cop. You always wanted to do good and to make a difference. You were always like that. Even as a little kid. I’m guessing that’s easier to do where you are now?”
“Yes.”
“So how does the woman fit into this?”
“We’re working together on a program to help teens at risk.”
“A lot of the local departments have a special school liaison. So she’s a police officer?”
“No.”
“A teacher then?”
“No. She’s a librarian.”
“Uh-oh,” Buddy said. “Your brother married a librarian.”
“I’m aware of that,” Connor said. “I was there. What does that have to do with anything?”
“Don’t you think it’s strange that you’re having trouble with a librarian?”
“Who said I was having trouble?”
“Logan.”
“Don’t the two of you have anything better to do than gossip about me?”
“Maybe I could give you some help, you know…in the romance department.”
“I don’t need any help in the romance department.”
“Well, you never have in the past,” Buddy said. “But you seem to have run into some difficulty with this new girl.”
“I’ve got to go.”
“If you need help, you know you can call me.”
“Right. Bye, Granddad.”
“Hold on. That offer goes for cop stuff, too,” his grandfather said.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t let something eat you up inside like Logan did.”
“His partner died. I didn’t have that experience.”
“Maybe not, but you had something happen that hit you hard deep inside, where healing doesn’t come easy. Like I said, you can talk to me anytime.”
“Thanks. Bye.”
Connor knew all about the intervention his granddad had staged with Logan, who was having terrible nightmares and suffering from guilt about his partner’s shooting. The guy had died in Logan’s arms.
There was something about having someone die in your arms that changed you forever. Connor was trained to deal with emergency situations but there was nothing like the trauma of a kid’s bloody death to destroy any idea that life was either fair or predictable.
Connor’s undercover work had ended that day. He’d stayed on the force for a while longer, working with kids. He’d tried to steer them away from gangs and drugs and toward programs and places that could help. But he’d failed so many times that something inside of him had atrophied.
He’d ended up walking away. Just like he’d walked away from Marissa all those years ago. He’d made a mess of things. He hadn’t expected or wanted to fall for Marissa back then. He’d just had his heart broken by his first love, who’d dumped him, and he wasn’t looking for complications.
He still wasn’t looking for complications but he sure as hell had them. Only this time Marissa was the one who’d had her heart broken by her cheating ex and he was the one with questions.
Earlier today, Marissa had cheerfully explained to him that he was her rebound guy and that she wasn’t looking for anything serious. Her statement should have reassured him instead of irritated him.
What the hell was wrong with him?
Connor didn’t have time to ponder that question because Spider and Nadine were waiting for him at the station.
“We need to talk to you,” Spider said. “In private,” he added. “It’s urgent.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Where are Nadine and Spider?” Marissa asked Molly. Marissa had raced home from Jose’s to exchange her jeans and T-shirt for black cotton pants and a turquoise sleeveless shirt for her shift at the library’s booth. The day was another one of those steamy kind guaranteed to make you wilt and sweat. “They’re supposed to be volunteering now, not you and Tasmyn. Did you get the schedule mixed up?”
“No. Nadine said she needed us to fill in their slot because she and Spider were doing something else.”
“Something else?” Marissa felt her anger rising. They were already shorthanded because Connor had told Jose and Red Fred it would be best if they stayed away from the Corn Festival today. “I can’t believe she’d be so irresponsible. Is she tweeting from somewhere?”
“They’re helping Jose and Red Fred.”
“By doing what?” Marissa could imagine all kinds of outrageous scenarios, most involving wild tweets, posts and photos.
“She didn’t say. Tasmyn and I don’t mind spending more time here at the booth. Don’t be worried. We’ve got this.”
But Marissa was worried. The minute Flo stopped by the booth, Marissa went from worried to agitated with a dose of panic thrown in for good measure. It wasn’t the wild corn–covered T-shirt and earrings that Flo was wearing. It was what she said.
Pulling Marissa aside, she quietly said, “So you and Connor finally hooked up last night. Don’t look so shocked. I told you, Flo always knows. Someone saw you leaving his apartment early this morning. They also saw you going in last night.”
Marissa was too stunned to speak.
“I didn’t say anything to anyone else. But the word does seem to be out. I thought I’d give you a heads-up.” Flo patted Marissa’s arm reassuringly. “This silent routine is probably the best. Or maybe you should think of an alibi. Of course, your other option is to just fess up. Not that I’m saying you should brag about it or anything. Of course, the sheriff is one of Hopeful’s most eligible bachelors. He was even listed as winning that title in the local paper last year but that was before you came home. Would you like me to issue a statement on your behalf?”
Marissa shook her head. The day had started out so well and with such promise. She’d had soapy shower sex with Connor, flirted with him, even thought she might be confident enough to try dancing.
Then things had gone bad when Flo had called to tell Marissa about the vandalism at the festival.
Now things had gone from bad to worse.
“You might not want to look so guilty,” Flo advised. “If you change your mind about issuing a statement just call me. You’ve got my cell number.” She paused as a group of kids approached the library booth to ask about the summer reading program. Standing back, Flo held her two fingers to her ear in the universal “call me” signal before leaving.
Marissa went on automatic pilot as she answered the kids’ questions. No, it wasn’t too late to sign up for the reading program. Yes, graphic novels counted toward the number of books read. Yes, some books earned them double points. No, Jose’s T-shirts weren’t one of the giveaways for the summer reading program but they had other promo items from Scaredy Squirrel for younger readers and Glee bookmarks or Twili
ght saga posters for older ones. She handed them the sign-up info and the brochure. The booth got busy for the next hour, leaving Marissa little time to worry about the rumors about her and Connor swirling around Centennial Park.
Her mom was the first family member to stop by. Luckily she did so during a lull in patrons asking for info at the booth. Like Flo, she tugged Marissa to the far corner of the booth.
“Is it true?” her mom asked in an undertone.
“Is what true?”
“You and Connor.” She studied Marissa’s face before exclaiming, “It is. Flo said you looked guilty and you do.”
Marissa put her hands to her cheeks. “I do not.”
“You’re blushing.”
“I’m hot. It’s ninety degrees out here.”
Her mom aimed her handheld battery-operated fan at Marissa before directing it back at her own red cheeks. “I should have brought you one of those ice packs to stick between your breasts.”
Marissa felt like sinking through the ground. “Mom, I’m trying to work here.”
“Right. I heard that one of your teens is about to be arrested for the vandalism. Is it one of the girls over there?”
“No, of course it’s not,” Marissa said.
“Right. Girls aren’t vandals. Boys are.”
“That’s not true. And none of the teens committed that vandalism.”
“What about the missing money?”
“They didn’t steal any money either.”
“You sound pretty sure about that,” her mom said.
“I am sure.”
“What about Connor? Are you sure about him? Is he the One?”
Marissa looked over her mom’s shoulder to see her dad approaching. She welcomed his arrival. He’d never interrogate her about her private life the way her mom was. “Hi, Dad. How’s the traffic at your booth? It seems pretty busy today. A big crowd at the festival.”
“Have they found the culprit who defaced the booths and stole the money?” her dad said.
“Not yet,” Marissa said.
“You know what the ancient Egyptians did with thieves, don’t you?”
“No and I don’t want to know,” Marissa’s mom said. “I’m sure it involved bloodshed of some sort. Forget about the pharaohs and concentrate on your daughter.”
Her dad frowned at Marissa. “They don’t think you did it, do they?”
“No,” Marissa said.
“They think one of her teens in trouble did it,” her mom said. “But that’s not important.”
“Yes, it is,” Marissa interrupted her. “My teens aren’t in trouble. They’re good kids.”
“I just meant that I wasn’t talking about the vandalism. I was referring to Marissa and Connor,” her mom said before rolling her eyes and sighing. “Forget it,” she told her husband.
“I just stopped by to see if I could borrow a pen,” Marissa’s dad said. “I seem to have lost mine.”
“Of course you did.” Marissa’s mom’s voice reflected her growing agitation. She moved her fan closer to her increasingly red face. “You are so wrapped up in that silly booth of yours that you can’t even see what’s right in front of your nose.”
Marissa’s dad automatically reached up to the brim of his hat. “My pen’s not in front of my nose.”
“I give up!” Marissa’s mom said dramatically. “We’ll talk later, Marissa.”
“She doesn’t seem like a happy camper,” Marissa’s dad noted as his wife marched off. Turning his attention to Marissa, he abruptly said, “Do you have any idea what it was like being the only male in our otherwise all-female household? The estrogen levels were through the roof. They still are, as far as your mom is concerned.”
She gave him a pen along with some advice. “Whatever you do, do not bring up what ancient Egyptian women did to handle menopause.”
“Most didn’t live that long,” her dad said.
“I wouldn’t say that either.”
“I can’t say anything right so I don’t even bother anymore,” he said. “Thanks for the pen.” He wandered away.
Marissa returned to the main section of the booth. “How are you girls doing? Do you need some water?” The library provided bottled water in a cooler for staff and volunteers.
“No one is donating any money,” Molly said. “It’s like they don’t trust us.”
“Someone actually told us that,” Tasmyn said. “They said we’d just take the money and buy something at the mall instead.”
“I’m so sorry,” Marissa said. “People can be idiots sometimes.”
Marissa tensed up as she saw her mom returning. “I forgot something,” her mom said before dropping a twenty into the donation box. “I’m going home. It’s too hot out here.”
Marissa suspected it was going to get a lot hotter.
* * *
“It’s urgent, huh?” Connor invited Spider and Nadine into his office and closed the door. “What’s going on?”
Ruby Mae knocked on his office door and popped her head in. “The mayor is on line one. He say’s it’s urgent.”
Connor gritted his teeth. As much as he wanted to blow off the mayor, he couldn’t do so. “I’ll be with you in a minute,” he told Nadine and Spider before picking up the phone.
“Doyle, here.”
“Sheriff, I’m hearing disturbing rumors here at the festival.” Mayor Bedford’s voice was thick with disapproval.
“There’s no law against gossiping,” Connor said.
“The gossip is about you and a certain librarian who works alongside you regarding the teens. There’s talk that the two of you are…an item, shall we say. And some are complaining that that’s why you won’t arrest Jose. Because of that certain librarian and your relationship with her. That she convinced you to go easy on him. What you do in your own time is your own business, Sheriff. But as mayor, I cannot allow you to have your personal prejudices color the investigation.”
“I’m not the one allowing personal prejudices to color anything.”
“Are you denying you and Marissa Barrett are a couple?”
“As you said, what I do in my own time is my own business.” Connor’s voice was curt.
“If the two of you are having an affair…”
“My personal life has no bearing on my job or my investigation. I’ve got to go.” Connor slammed the phone down.
“Did you just hang up on the mayor?” Spider asked.
“Yes, I did. And that info does not leave this office. No tweets,” he warned Nadine.
“Tweets helped us break this case,” she said. “You see, your brain isn’t wired the way ours is.”
Connor was about to say “Thank God for that” but held his tongue.
“Spider and I are digital natives. That means that, unlike you, we’ve always had digital technology. We are pros at multitasking. This is our world and we hold the keys to it,” Nadine said proudly.
“And if we don’t have the keys, we know how to unlock certain areas,” Spider said. “Jose isn’t guilty. Someone framed him.”
“I am actually smart enough to have figured that out on my own,” Connor said. “Even though I’m not a digital native.”
“You may have figured out he was framed, but have you figured out who did it?”
“Not yet,” Connor said.
“We have.” Spider’s face beamed with pride.
“Do I want to know how you did that?” Connor said.
“Probably not,” Spider admitted.
“See, the thing in law enforcement is that I need evidence I can use in a court,” Connor said. “Not something illegally obtained.”
“The mayor’s granddaughter was our first suspect,” Nadine said. “She was very angry that she came in second and that Jose got first place in that poetry jam at the Rhubarb Festival. She’s been holding a grudge ever since then. It’s all here on her Facebook page.” Nadine turned the open laptop to show Connor.
“How did you get access to her Facebook p
age?” Connor asked.
“She friended me. I was using an alias and said I was a huge fan of the TV show Vampire Diaries, as is she. Ian Somerhalder is her fave, so we posted about that.”
“There’s nothing illegal about holding a grudge,” Connor said.
“Or liking Vampire Diaries,” Spider added. “Although there should be.”
“I don’t see a confession that she framed Jose. And she has an alibi. She was home with her family,” Connor said.
“It wasn’t her. She’s a senior in high school but she has a nineteen-year-old boyfriend.” Nadine switched screens to another Facebook page. “He’s not very smart. He posted some photos of himself at the festival.”
“With a can of spray paint?”
Nadine nodded. “Like I said, he’s not real smart. Did you question him?”
“I’m about to,” Connor said and headed for the door.
Nadine and Spider got up to go with him.
“No, you don’t. You two stay here. Or better yet, go home. And don’t breathe or tweet or post a word of this until I tell you to. Got that?”
“Yeah,” they said in unison.
“I just have one more thing to say to you both. Good job.” He gave them both a high five and a low down. “You should consider jobs in law enforcement.”
“In that case, we should come with you to observe your interrogation techniques,” Spider said.
“No, you shouldn’t. Remember, not a word. We don’t want to spook the suspect.”
“So you plan on ambushing him. Smart move,” Spider said.
“I’m so glad you approve,” Connor said. “Remember, not a word. I’m trusting you.”
“We got that,” Nadine said. “Go book ’em, Danno.”
* * *
Marissa had barely made it home and changed out of her work clothes when her mom called. She sounded on the verge of a panic attack. Marissa could relate. She felt that way herself since hearing that the news of her and Connor was now public gossip.
“I need your help!” her mom repeated.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay! I need you to come over here and talk to your father immediately.”
“Why? What happened?’