Dances Under the Harvest Moon (Heartache, TN 3)

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Dances Under the Harvest Moon (Heartache, TN 3) Page 11

by Joanne Rock


  “I’ll bet you I can tell you more than any search engine.” He dropped onto the seat beside her, weary from a day that was only going to get tougher.

  “I’ll bet you can, too. But little-known fact about me? I’m not terribly patient.”

  “Is that right?” He reached for her phone. “Little-known fact about me? Neither am I.”

  He tried to tug the phone out of her hand, but she held on tight, laughing. He breathed in the scent of her hair, remembering the way it had driven him crazy when they’d been fishing and he’d watched the heavy red mass sway along her back as she moved.

  “Wait.” She gripped his other hand to hold him off until both their hands were brushing. “I have to tell you the whole story first so you can appreciate where I’ve been hearing rumors.”

  Mischief danced in her blue eyes.

  And yeah, he hated himself for not confessing the news about her dad immediately. But he hadn’t expected her to have confessions of her own.

  “Out with it, Finley.” He gave her a level look, but he relaxed his hold on her phone.

  He didn’t let go of her other hand. If she wanted that back, she’d have to take it.

  She didn’t.

  “One of my students is Megan Bryer. She worked with the catering company yesterday.”

  “I know who she is.” Playfulness shifted to concern. “Her father just joined the town council last spring when Tiffany McCord did. He’s a good guy. Doesn’t let Tiffany ruffle him.”

  Had Heather heard rumors about the missing Harvest Festival money?

  “Weird how two council members resigned their seats at midterm.” She raised an auburn eyebrow at him. “Are you scaring people away, Mayor?”

  “Consider how terrified I am to attend the McCords’ ribbon-cutting ceremony by myself and you’ll realize how ludicrous that sounds.” He leaned so their shoulders brushed, tilting his head to confide the secret. Also to feel the brush of all that red silky hair against his cheek.

  “Right. I forgot how easily intimidated you are by accomplished women.” She edged forward to look him in the eye, still playful, but there was an element of awareness, too. A hint of breathlessness in her words.

  His heart slugged harder in his chest and he wished things were different between them. Wished...so much.

  “Don’t try to distract me.” He stroked the inside of her palm, saw the way her breath caught as he did. “Tell me about Megan Bryer.”

  “She hasn’t been herself lately. Stressed about school and college and money. Except there’s got to be more to it than that.” She frowned and stared at the phone on her lap. “I’m not sure exactly. But I do know she’s falling behind in some schoolwork, because she mentioned wanting to interview you for a paper.”

  “No doubt she heard I won the seat in a landslide vote.” He continued to stroke Heather’s hand, wondering what she’d needed to research about him.

  He didn’t like revisiting the BS from his father’s crimes. And he sure as hell hoped no one had discovered anything about Ellie’s problems. He and Sam had worked hard to make certain she stayed relatively hidden, her identity adjusted just enough to keep her off her old stalker’s radar.

  “Megan said you manage a website.” She flipped the phone around so he could see the page she’d loaded—his sister’s victim support group.

  Not that anyone else would make that connection.

  “True enough.” His name must be on one of the pages he’d uploaded for Ellie. Or else Megan had found him in the WHOIS search for ownership of the site. Zach hadn’t wanted Ellie’s contact information on there.

  “You are a man of many talents, it seems.” She set the phone back on the swing. The wooden slats creaked as she moved, the only sound except for the chirp of night bugs.

  “Do you think my advanced tech skills make up for my lack of fishing expertise?” He wanted to change the subject. Still, he needed to tell her about the soon-to-be investigation into the town’s missing money.

  But he was curious how the hell Megan Bryer had found that link.

  “Possibly. The website sounds like it will offer valuable tools to victims of cyberbullying.” Her eyes were full of questions he wasn’t ready to answer. He sure couldn’t tell her about his sister’s connection to the site.

  “I try to choose a few gratis projects during the year.” That was true enough. “This group needed some help and their mission lines up well with the goals of my digital-security company.”

  Before she could ask him any more, he gestured toward the car.

  “I’ll tell you about it on the way back to my place,” he offered, tugging her to her feet as he stood.

  An hour later, they were putting the finishing touches on the fish in his kitchen. The sun had long set, but the pendant lights over the breakfast bar glowed with warm light. Heather sautéed the filets and he chopped the mushrooms for a sauce she’d come up with based on the ingredients in his refrigerator. The trout would be served over angel-hair pasta with a light cream sauce. His kitchen smelled amazing.

  “So I think I get it.” She switched the flame off beneath the skillet and moved the fish off the burner. “The site will offer tools to help victims of cyberbullying track incidents of harassment, which ties into your company’s interests. But this has your name on it instead of your company’s name, Fortress Nine.”

  Because it was personal. Because his sister was nearly raped by a stranger in a nylon mask who’d stalked her and hunted her down when he thought she was alone. But Sam Reyes had made sure that didn’t happen, a protector to the core, even before his days as a small-town sheriff.

  Too bad that story was never told, not even to his mother.

  Sam had beaten the guy until he was scared he’d killed him. But after a car drove past the lonely stretch of road where it had happened, Sam had hid. After the car disappeared, the stalker—what Sam had thought had been a lifeless body—was gone. Zach and Sam had many reasons to keep the incident quiet, even if Zach had wanted police help. The cops had never done a damn thing to help Ellie before, and Sam was old enough he could have been tried as an adult if someone thought he was guilty of assault. But most important, his traumatized sister had begged for time to think about what she wanted to do.

  Two weeks later, she’d tried to kill herself.

  Zach ground his teeth. Forced himself to breathe normally. He wasn’t sharing that part. But he needed to tell her a piece of it. Just enough so she’d understand his personal investment in Ellie’s efforts.

  “Not many people know this, but my sister had a stalker in school.”

  “Gabriella?” Heather pulled down the plates from the stainless-steel open shelving while he drained the pasta. “Wasn’t she in my sister Amy’s grade?”

  “I think so.” He found a bottle of wine and sought her approval.

  “Thanks, but I’d better not.” She passed him a water glass. “I’ll have water.”

  “Me, too.” He slid the wine back into the temperature-controlled drawer and took care of the drinks.

  “I’m sorry to hear about the stalker.” She touched his arm lightly, her eyes full of sympathy. “That must have been terrifying.”

  “She reached out for help, thank God.” She’d been scared to tell him at first, knowing the rest of the family was consumed with their father’s trial. “We handled it. But I like helping other people going through that kind of problem. Which makes me wonder about Megan finding the link to that article about the app, which I know is buried online. You said she seems troubled?”

  He gestured at the table. The scent of sautéed pineapple hung fragrant in the air. His dining room was ridiculously formal, and he planned to change the floor plan to use it for something more practical. For tonight, he’d set them up in a corner of the kitchen with a banquette and medium-size t
able. An informal meal. Like a regular couple, comfortable with each other.

  Good, right?

  His gut knotted.

  “Yes. But she said her school project was on cyberbullying. I think she was just researching the topic and stumbled across your name.” Heather slid into her seat while their dishes steamed. “This smells delicious.”

  “Tell her to call me. I’m happy to do an interview.” He’d quiz her himself once he got her on the phone. He knew a thing or two about victim mentality, thanks to his sister’s work with her group.

  And he knew for a fact that an average internet search about cyberbullying wouldn’t bring up his name. The girl would have been knee deep in articles and references to find a site that was just a couple of weeks old. What if a stalker was still at work in Heartache, targeting young girls?

  “So, that’s my news.” Heather twirled her fork in the pasta. “What’s yours?”

  “Hmm?” He hated to think of a local girl being bullied, maybe even cyberstalked all over again. What if the predator who’d gone after his sister was someone who’d never left Heartache?

  “You wanted to talk to me tonight.” Her bite of dinner was poised in midair. “What was that all about?”

  Right. No more delaying. He forced himself to try the dinner before he lost the rest of his appetite. For all he knew, his evening with Heather could end any moment. From an objective standpoint, he registered that the food was delicious, but he took no pleasure in it.

  “A few weeks ago, I started noticing some strange behavior among a few of the old town council members. Conversations that cut short when I entered a room. Meaningful looks exchanged across a table that suggested shared secrets.” His gaze dropped to where Heather’s left hand rested on the heavy plank table, remembering how she’d held on to him this afternoon, drawing him closer as he kissed her.

  “Probably people who don’t agree with your politics.” She sat back to take a sip of her water, her lips curving in a smile. “No one liked it when you shelved the plans to develop a new bike park.”

  Any other time, it would have made him grin. The bike park had created quite an uproar in the small town.

  “I hoped that’s all it was. But I asked one of them last week if anything was going on and the guy—Harlan Brady—got oddly flustered when he denied it. I asked Sam to keep an ear to the ground to see if I was missing something.”

  Heather’s lone gold bangle clanked against the table. He had brought her here hoping she would understand about the investigation. And that by night’s end he’d be stripping off that gold bangle along with everything else she wore.

  “I can’t believe you asked the sheriff to investigate sideways glances.” She cut a piece of bread from the minibaguette he’d picked up at the store, and handed him a piece.

  He shrugged. “Just keep an ear out for news. That’s all. I was curious what I was missing.” He should have poured some wine even if she wasn’t drinking. Hell, a few shots would have been helpful to steel himself for this.

  “And?”

  “Sam found out a whole lot more than either of us expected.” He set his fork down. Braced himself. “Remember when he approached me at the wedding breakfast?”

  “He looked intense.” She continued to enjoy the meal, still unaware of the turn the conversation was about to take. “What did he learn?”

  “Apparently, the issues arose a few weeks ago when I’d asked for the books on the old harvest festivals. Some of the long-time town council members were going to dig them out of storage so I |could put them into a program that would help us with future budgets.”

  “No surprise. My dad didn’t use Excel. He wasn’t much for technology.” She pointed to his plate. “Don’t let your food get cold.”

  He forced another few bites into his mouth, wishing his timing had been better so they could have enjoyed this evening together.

  “Small towns are often slow to update because they don’t have budgets that afford big changes.” That much he understood. Yet, there was no good explanation for what the books showed. “But apparently, the council members took a look at the accounts instead of just handing them over to me.”

  “They’re certainly all very invested in Harvest Fest.”

  Right. Unless one of them was trying to protect himself or doctor the books.

  “I realize that. But they’d been exchanging sideways glances at meetings because they’d discovered funds had gone missing from the festival two years in a row.”

  “Really? That would have been during my dad’s term.” She paled, her cheeks losing color as her lips parted with surprise.

  He didn’t bother confirming what she already knew. As much as he wanted to offer comfort, he knew that touching her now would only complicate things. The last thing he wanted was to drive a wedge between them forever.

  “Sam got the books and we went over them last night. I started running a program to analyze the brief bits of digital data we have on file.”

  “That’s why you didn’t sleep. You were trying to figure out where the missing money went.” She tucked a strand of hair behind one ear, watching him intently, her meal forgotten. “Any luck? A bookkeeping oversight?”

  “No. That’s why I wanted to talk to you.” He traced the condensation on the outside of his water glass while he considered how to tell her. “I’m going to have to call for an official investigation.”

  * * *

  HEATHER TRIED TO process the words, willing herself to stay calm, even if worry simmered beneath the surface.

  “I don’t understand.” She cleared her throat, her voice not quite there. “That’s a good thing, right? You need to figure out what happened.”

  She hugged herself, feeling a sudden chill.

  “Of course.”

  “Are you concerned that one of your council members stole town money?” She knew that Zach felt as if the mayor role took up a great deal of his time. Since he’d found out this news, he must be regretting his decision to step into office even more.

  “I’m concerned about missing money, yes.” He met her gaze straight on, shifting in his seat. “I’m also concerned about a cover-up, a scandal and the possible taint to the mayor’s office.”

  She knew small-town politics could be ugly, but she hoped he was worrying too much.

  “Seriously? But you aren’t responsible for this—” She stopped, all at once understanding what he’d been telling her tonight, and it chilled her to the core. “You think my father had something to do with the missing money?”

  Anger surged through her. Just what the hell was Zach saying?

  “I would never jump to conclusions.”

  “He ran this town for a decade,” she reminded him, her heart beating faster. “He revived Heartache during a recession and brought back the harvest festival. Finley Building Supply donated all the lumber in the stands and stalls in the fairgrounds—”

  “I know that.” He tried to lay a hand on hers, but she edged back, curling her fists in her lap, still in disbelief that he’d invited her over for dinner only to accuse her father of corruption.

  She’d been envisioning hot kisses. Maybe a little more than that. And all the time, he’d been planning what? A political sneak attack?

  “No. You don’t. Because if you had any idea how much my father sacrificed for this town...” She didn’t want to finish that thought. She stood, too shaky and upset to sit still. “I can’t believe you would accuse him of something like this.”

  “You must be aware that I haven’t made any accusations whatsoever.” He remained in his seat, one strong hand slowly mutilating a linen napkin. “I hoped my research last night would pinpoint a discrepancy in the books so an investigation wouldn’t be necessary, but it didn’t, and I can’t sit on the knowledge any longer. Sam is not pleased that
I asked him to wait until tomorrow to announce it so I could speak to you privately.”

  Heather stalked into the big kitchen, where she’d so recently had had fun making dinner with Zach. How could she have come here with ridiculous romantic notions when he’d been planning to drop this bombshell? A bombshell that would destroy all her plans.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t say something earlier.” How would she break this news to her mother? She paced, her shoes slapping a fast beat on the hardwood floor.

  She didn’t know how much money was missing, but in a small town like Heartache, it wouldn’t take much to upset the local residents. And rightfully so. Yet, she hated the thought that her father could be implicated when he couldn’t even defend himself.

  Zach spread his hands. “When could I tell you? At the wedding breakfast, when your family was hosting the most important Finley event of the year? Or this morning at the fishing tournament, when I was on the clock performing my duties as mayor?”

  “How about before?” She remembered talking to him on the phone. Hell, he could have called her with this news so she would have had more time to think up a strategy for her family’s formal response. “Or how about after the tournament? You could have talked to me then instead of letting me kiss you.” She paced faster, but damn it, she couldn’t outrun the truth that he’d betrayed her. “No wonder you didn’t want to...take things further.”

  Zach rose. One second he was seated and the next he stood in her path.

  She’d been in those arms just a few hours ago, her fingers twining through his hair to bring him closer. Even now, the awareness was un-freaking-deniable. Only now she knew better. There would be no more out-of-control kisses tonight. No more risk-taking with him.

  “Heather. Please.” He grasped her shoulders in his hands, his touch confusing things. “I wanted to fix it myself so it wouldn’t come to this. I was tired this morning and not thinking clearly. I’m still tired and not thinking clearly. But I promise you, the only thing holding me back this afternoon was the knowledge that I had to tell you about this first.”

 

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