Secrets

by L. A. Fiore

  “Hey, Darling,” Maisy greeted when Hank entered the store.

  Hank just raised a hand and went straight to the painkiller aisle. He didn’t grab the small bottle; he got the biggest one they had and made his way to the check out.

  Hank forcefully placed the bottle on the counter, which got Maisy’s attention. “Next time, tell my ma I’m eating fucking aspirin.” He didn’t wait for her to ring him up, just reached in his pocket, threw a ten-dollar bill on the small counter and walked out.

  “You given any more thought to that wet t-shirt contest, Sheriff? It’d be a money maker for this town,” Elmer called to Hank as he started across the street to the station house. “Sal and I will audition the contestants, you know cause we’re givers and all that shit.”

  Hank should have purchased two bottles. He turned back, stepped up on the sidewalk. Elmer Cofer and Sal Mills were in their usual spot, a table outside Dehlia’s. It was an unspoken law in town, that table was theirs. Both were in their seventies. Elmer was as bald as Sal was shaggy, his white hair sticking out all over his head like he was perpetually just climbing out of bed. They looked like fishermen in their customary plaid shirts and faded jeans, worn even in the heat of summer, but as far as Hank knew, they’d never lifted a fishing rod. Both were lifelong bachelors, both had no family to speak of but each other, and both didn’t have a filter…whatever was in their heads came out of their mouths. They were pains in his ass, but Summerville wouldn’t be Summerville without them. As Josephine described them, they were the town’s version of Statler and Waldorf, with the difference that they weren’t grumpy, but dirty-minded old men making commentary on everything and everyone. And at the rate Hank was going, one day he was going to fill one of those chairs.

  A woman walked by, her skirt lifting a bit from the breeze. Sal observed loudly as she passed, “Too bad it ain’t more windy today.”

  Elmer gestured with his hands to his chest. “She’d make a good contestant.”

  Hank gave a second thought to stepping out in front of the midafternoon bus. It was just one of those days. But if he was honest with himself, since he became the sheriff of Summerville eight years ago, it was just one of those lives.

  “Heard you were out to see the new chick. No flies on you, Sheriff,” Elmer said and added, “If I was twenty years younger, you’d have some competition.” He flashed a smile, showing his missing teeth. “I was a real looker in my day.”

  The sound that came from Sal was a cross between a laugh and a bark. “Age does things to your memories.” He turned his attention on Hank. “You heard about beer goggling…” He pointed to Elmer. “He was the inspiration for that. The more a woman drank, the better he looked and even then his best lighting was pitch darkness.”

  Elmer huffed but Hank didn’t miss the grin.

  “Gentlemen, as always, a pleasure,” Hank said and added as he started for the station. “Not really, but try and keep your comments tactful today, can ya?”

  “So that’s a no for the wet t-shirt competition? Well, shit, we’re back at square one,” Elmer said.

  Hank halted his steps and shouted to Elmer. “Sure, I’ll sign off on that but just remember that Hya will be all over that shit.” Hank ended with a chuckle when the look on the men’s faces changed.

  Sounding as contrite as he ever had, Sal said, “Didn’t think of Hyacinth.” He glanced over at Elmer as he unconsciously rubbed his leg that had a run-in with Hyacinth’s cane earlier in the week. “Maybe not a great idea.”

  “This is why we elected you, Sheriff. You’re a smart man.” Elmer called after him.

  Hank continued to his destination, tossed his hand in the air and yelled, “Try my best.” Then he quickly walked through the station doors, hoping to make a beeline to his office without dealing with…

  “Now where you off to like your ass is on fire?” Jo questioned, sitting behind her desk that greeted folks entering the station. Her eyes drifted down and sparkled before she added, “Would be a shame.” Her gaze met Hank’s. “Tell me about the flood victim? What’s she like? She sounds pretty.”

  Hank stopped, looked around for a bottle of water, half drunk cup of coffee, hell, even some liquid cleaner to wash down the three aspirin he held in his hand. He rattled the bottle in his other hand as if that would miraculously have them melting into his bloodstream.

  Without missing a beat, Jo handed him a bottle of water. “Details, Honey, like you’re writing a report.”

  Hank sighed in relief and snatched the bottle out of Jo’s hand. He didn’t answer her till he had tossed three aspirin into his mouth and chugged down half the bottle of water. “She’s cute, yes. But she’s also a member of this town. Details you will not get, cause there are none to be told.” Hank took a few steps and muttered, “I need the number she called from, for my log.” He was hoping Jo would just do her job for once, but who was he kidding.

  Jo turned in her chair, clapped her hands like she was trying to kill a fly, and hollered, “No details my ass!” She stood, cocked her hip and curled one hand to rest on that hip. “You want her number?” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Can’t remember the last time you needed a number for your log,” Jo drawled, then added almost under her breath, “Maybe I need to call her too, have a little chinwag.” Her laugh was loud and long. She scribbled down the number, holding out the paper to him. Before he could take it, she pulled it back. Their eyes connected. “We aren’t done with this conversation.”

  She held out the paper again and Hank took it, grumbling as he did, “How many aspirin are too many?” He didn’t wait for an answer and started for his office, but stopped when he noticed Mike wasn’t at his desk. He turned to Jo, who had a shit-eating grin on her face. “Where’s Mike?” From what he could recall, there was no reason for him not to be behind his desk.

  Jo sat back down, lifted her sweet tea. “There was an altercation between Hyacinth and Terry. Poor boy was just making deliveries. The cane was involved. Potato salad is spread out all over Sunflower Street causing a traffic jam.” She took a long sip. “He’s got it under control, but in this heat, it’s not going to smell too good down there.” Jo chuckled and added, “Yep, it sure ain’t gonna smell too good.”

  Hank wanted to stop Jo at Hyacinth’s name, but being the sheriff, he needed to know what was going on. Only in Summerville would potato salad spread across a street cause a traffic jam. Hank stood there, looking at the beauty of Josephine. Her flawless skin, makeup done up like she just climbed off a runaway in Paris. Nails too long for any breathing human or animal, painted the color of the bright sun. He wasn’t really taking in all that was Jo. No. Hank was contemplating his life in the few beats he stood stock-still. He thought of Phoebe. He didn’t let himself harp on it; he had work to do.

  “Okay,” Hank grumbled and continued to his office. What else was he going to say? Reaching his office, he shut the door, flopped down into his padded leather chair and took a deep breath. He looked at the bright pink sticky note in his hand. Stretching forward, he retrieved his cell from his back pocket. His eyes bounced from the phone number to his cell. Jesus. He wasn’t a fucking boy anymore. He tapped on the screen, went to contacts and added her.

  * * *

  Arissa turned down Main Street on her way to the station. Next to her was a plate of brownies she’d made in her water soaked kitchen. It wasn’t much, but she wanted to thank the sheriff and the dispatcher for their help. She was an adult; she could be honest and admit there was more to her sudden urge to make brownies. Sure, the sheriff was sexy, but there had been something between them, at least she thought there had been. It could have just been the drama of the moment, so she made brownies as an excuse to see if that spark ignited again.

  She was yanked from thoughts on the sheriff when she was almost clipped by a huge white convertible. A horn blared, the woman behind the wheel glared at her, one hand lifted ov
er her head in a fist. “Watch where you’re going!”

  The woman’s car was on Arissa’s side of the street, but since her car could steamroll over Arissa’s convertible bug, she smiled apologetically and hit the gas. A few seconds later, she heard the horn again, another shout and couldn’t help but chuckle. The woman was a menace.

  Finding a spot, she parallel parked and climbed from the car. The door hadn’t even closed when she heard, “Hey there, little lady. You wanna come on over and sit on my lap?”

  Her head jerked around to see two older men sitting at a table outside the cafe, both looking at her with salacious smiles. “Ah, I’m heading in there,” she said, and pointed to the station house. “But maybe next time?” That was said in almost a question because how the hell did you answer a question like that and not be rude?

  “Anytime, Sweet Cheeks,” the one hollered.

  “My lap is softer,” the other said.

  Chuckling to herself at the colorful characters across the street, Arissa reached for the plate of brownies, shut her car door and waved a hand over her head before she started for the station. “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind.”

  She heard, “She blows us off just like the sheriff, with a wave of a damn hand.”

  Arissa stopped, turned back. “Rain check?” she called back, and bit her lip to keep from laughing when they sat up a bit straighter.

  “You bet!”

  Turning back to the station, she pulled open the door. The blast of cold air felt great. Her eyes hadn’t even adjusted and she was almost knocked over.

  “How’s the lake?” Arissa took a second to take in the one who asked that. She looked about Arissa’s age, early thirties, auburn hair and the prettiest light brown eyes with lashes that couldn’t be real they were so long. Arissa was still taking her in when she asked again, “The lake?”

  Unconsciously, Arissa lifted her hand and pointed. “I spoke to you?”

  “Yeah, Honey.” She took Arissa by the arm. “Do you need to sit down?” But didn’t wait as she pulled her to a line of chairs. “I can get you something to drink? I keep a bottle of the good stuff in my bottom drawer.”

  “No, I’m fine. I was just…” She looked back at the door to the encounter she’d just had with the two old men across the street, then looked at the woman who was a force of nature and momentarily forgot why she was there. Her mouth opened as she absently answered, “The lake is gone.” When the woman only stared at her expectantly she continued, “Billie not only came out and fixed the valve, he shopvacced the water and put out big fans to help dry it all up. He wasn’t there for more than a half an hour, but now I can use the water and everything is pretty much dry.”

  The woman took the seat next to Arissa and eyed her from head to toe in the white halter sundress and hot pink flip flops, her dark hair pulled into a messy knot. “You’re a cute thing, aren’t ya?” Her focus landed on the brownies. “What’s that?” she asked.

  Arissa looked down at the plate she held, completely forgetting she held it. “Oh.” She offered it to the woman. “I made these for you and the sheriff as a thank you.”

  The woman didn’t hesitate to lift the plastic wrap and take a brownie. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head after she took a bite. “These are delicious.”

  “Instant espresso gives them that extra chocolaty flavor.”

  “Hmm,” she muttered before she leaned in. “And the sheriff?”

  Arissa glanced down at her lap. Was she that obvious? “What about him?”

  “Oh come on, Honey. You know what I’m asking?”

  Arissa did know what she was asking but considering she was there with brownies, the answer was fairly obvious what she thought of their sexy sheriff. She deflected the question with one of her own. “What’s your name?”

  “Where are my manners? I’m Josephine.” She leaned closer. “But you can call me Jo.” Then she smiled big and pretty. “Now that we’re friends, tell me your first impression of the sheriff,” Jo said, taking the plate of brownies and placing them next to her on an empty chair before turning her attention back on Arissa.

  Between the lake in her kitchen, the visit from the ridiculously sexy sheriff of Summerville, the encounter with the two men out front and now the tornado known as Jo, Arissa asked, “Do you think I could have some of that good stuff?” Then added, “Maybe a double?”

  Jo jumped up. “My golly.” She rushed over to the long counter and behind it. “Honestly, where are my manners today. Of course…” She paused, got herself and Arissa a red solo cup of coconut rum. Then made her way around the counter with speed. “Hope you like coconut? I can tell you do, you have that just off the beach look about you.”

  Realizing her action of bringing in brownies wasn’t really all that subtle, Arissa was pretty sure she’d drink moonshine at the moment. “I love coconut.” Jo’s words registered, just off the beach look. Arissa thought about that and grinned. She liked that description.

  “Darling,” Jo started and handed Arissa her cup. “You add diet coke to it and you got yourself a dangerous combo.” Jo took a hefty swig before she moved into Arissa and asked again, “Now, back to the sheriff? Cause, Sugar, I played dumb for a month, said I didn’t understand the computer system just to be close to him.” Jo chuckled at the memory.

  Arissa held up her finger as she drank the entire contents of her red solo cup. It burned like acid down her throat and in her stomach. “This is good,” she choked out, but she was already starting to feel the calming effects. “Can I have more?”

  “Oh dear,” Jo said, but she hurried back for the bottle, bringing it over, pouring some more and hiding it under the chairs.

  Arissa drank that also before turning her attention on Jo. “My first impression of the sheriff was he’d make an incredible stripper,” Arissa said, then realized she said that out loud and covered her mouth with her hand.

  Jo’s belly laugh was heard on the other side of the building.

  “I mean, not like a stripper stripper, but…” Arissa moved closer. “I wouldn’t have stopped him if he did start you know, stripping.”

  “Oh, Honey,” Jo said, dropping her hand on Arissa’s leg. “I wouldn’t have stopped him, either.”

  Arissa leaned back in her chair. “He’s actually really… I don’t want to say nice, that’s not the right word, but coming to the house, turning off the water, bringing me beer. I wondered, being a small town, if he did so because there isn’t enough trouble in this town to keep him busy, and he doesn’t seem the type to be idle, but then I was almost run off the road by a lunatic, two men propositioned me right outside the station house and you…” Arissa looked over at Jo. “You’re a handful, I can tell. Even busy he made the time, so yeah, the man is just…nice.”

  Jo leaned back in her chair, looked up to Jesus and said, “Hmm, mmm, the sheriff is nice.”

  Arissa mirrored her pose, feeling pretty good, and said, “He makes me want to commit a crime. Not a felony, but a misdemeanor.” She glanced over at Jo. “Maybe get some jail time.”

  “Darling, you aren’t the only one. And let me tell you…” She put a hand on Arissa’s leg again. “Many have done just that to get him to frisk them, but I don’t wanna burst your bubble. He won’t frisk you cause he caught on to it after we got eight calls in one day,” she finished with her lips pursed and brows raised.

  “I’ve not had enough alcohol to even ponder that, but…” Arissa grinned. “It’s a nice visual.” Then she gestured to the door. “Those two men across the street. They invited me to sit on their laps. That’s the most action I’ve had in months.”

  Jo hooted in laughter. “Bert and Ernie over there?” She gestured to the window behind them. “That’s Elmer and Sal, the town’s dirty old men, Honey. They’re harmless. Now…” She started with raised brows. “It’s Hya you need to watch out for, the one in the big caddie.
Honey, she can get cranky, but deep down, she’s good people.”

  Arissa jerked forward, shifting in her seat. “She almost ran me and my car over, then yelled at me even though she was on my side of the street.” Arissa sat back in her chair, grinning at the thought of the colorful characters of Summerville. “I think I’m going to really like it here.”

  “Yep, that’s Hyacinth, she’s one of the Summerville Belles.” Jo threw her head back in laughter. “Those three women are a damn hoot. They keep the sheriff on his toes. They’re the female versions of Elmer and Sal.”

  “Hya scared me a little.”

  “Sugar, her bark is worse than her bite. Now, if she raises her cane at you, run.” Jo nodded. “Run quick, cause that thing is dangerous.”

  “Good to know.” Arissa looked at her watch. “Oops, I didn’t mean to take so much of your time.”

  Jo looked to the back of the large room and saw Hank. “You can say oops again, Sugar, cause we aren’t alone.”

  Arissa followed Jo’s stare to see the sheriff leaning on the doorjamb of his office. He’d changed into a faded gray tee with the Summerville PD logo and jeans. His arms were folded, pulling her eyes to his biceps. She curled her fingers because what she wanted to do was start at his shoulders and work her way down, touching every inch of him with her hands then her mouth. Her gaze lifted, looked right into those dark eyes and didn’t care if he knew she was eye fucking him from across the room. Arissa held his dark brown gaze when she said to Jo, “Oops.”

  Hank’s eyes drifted down Arissa’s body, letting them linger on her crossed bare legs. Her skin looked smooth and silky. His hands clenched, wanting to run them up her legs until they got lost under her dress. His eyes briefly connected with hers, he could get lost in them, but he righted his thoughts, giving Arissa a chin lift before he hollered across the room. “Jo, you drinking on the job?”