by Debbie Mason
When there was no response to her second attempt, she said, “Guys, this isn’t funny anymore. Come on.” Pressing her ear to the door, she jiggled the knob. It was locked.
Someone cleared their throat. She looked down the hall to see an older man watching her with a bushy white eyebrow raised.
“It’s not what it looks like,” she said with an awkward laugh. “My stepsons are in there.”
Pressing her lips close to the door, she knocked again. “Do you hear that, boys? There’s a nice gentleman who’d like to use the restroom.”
The way the man was looking at her made her as nervous as the absolute silence coming from the other side of the door. “I’m really sorry,” she apologized while attempting to force the knob to turn. She used both hands. It wouldn’t budge. “I’m sure they won’t be…” She went to tell the older man they wouldn’t be much longer, but he wasn’t there.
She bent down to look under the door but couldn’t see anything from that vantage point. With a quick glance up and down the hall to ensure no one was around, she got down on her hands and knees. Her cheek touched the tile as she tried to get a look under the door. She grimaced at the gritty feel beneath her face, imagining how many pairs of boots and shoes had walked over the floor today.
“Oliver, Brooks, I’m not fooling around anymore. If you don’t get out here this second, I’m going to…” What? What was she going to do? “I’m going to break down the door?”
She sighed. She hadn’t meant for it to come out as a question.
“Or you could simply ask for the key,” a deep and familiar male voice suggested from behind her.
Chapter Two
The blonde on her hands and knees looking under the men’s restroom door didn’t acknowledge Gabriel Buchanan’s presence or his suggestion about the key. Since it took a concerted effort to drag his admiring gaze from her heart-shaped backside to what he could see of her face through her hair, he decided it was probably a good thing she hadn’t looked up.
When his interest in the profile he could barely make out beneath the long, blond locks seemed equally intense, he wondered what was behind his odd reaction.
He frowned. There was something familiar about her. Even if his reaction to her was decidedly unfamiliar. Or so he thought until she lifted her cheek from the floor to offer him a weak smile over her shoulder.
Mallory Maitland. He should’ve known.
He’d had a similar reaction to her last summer. When his eyes had met hers in the crowded bar, everything had faded away until it was just the two of them. He’d stared at her with his heart racing and a smile he couldn’t wipe from his face. He hadn’t felt that instant attraction to a woman for more than a decade. It was how he’d felt when he first met Lauren, his late wife and the love of his life.
“I know it looks bad,” Mallory said, using the door handle to pull herself to her feet. “But my stepsons are in there and…they’re kind of mad at me. About moving. Here. To Highland Falls.”
Despite Mallory being a widow without children when they’d first met, he wasn’t surprised to learn of her recently acquired stepsons. For some reason he’d yet to discover, Abby Everhart, her best friend, had decided Gabe needed to be kept apprised of whatever was going on in Mallory’s life.
He probably would’ve attributed Abby’s need to keep him informed to her tendency to overshare—about anything and everything—but lately she wasn’t the only one who’d decided he needed regular updates on Mallory. So did Winter Johnson, the town’s mayor and his boss.
Which meant he already knew that Mallory had accepted the job to implement a new seniors program at the community center. Better her than him, he’d thought at the time. Except that wasn’t all he’d thought or felt upon learning she was moving to town, he reminded himself and nudged her carefully out of the way.
The last thing he needed living in tempting proximity was a woman who made him feel things he hadn’t felt in a very long time. His life was complicated enough.
“How long have they been in there?” he asked as he inserted the key into the lock while trying to ignore the warmth of her body so close to him and her spicy, sweet fragrance. She smelled like Christmas.
“Twenty minutes.”
He glanced at her.
She averted her gaze, raising a hand to smooth strands of honey-colored hair away from her face. “I was on a call with a client. It took longer than expected.”
Her flushed cheeks and her unwillingness to meet his eyes told another story—she was lying.
As though she picked up on his silent suspicion, she looked him in the eyes and lifted her chin. “They’re teenagers. Oliver is almost sixteen, and Brooks is fourteen.”
She had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. They were mesmerizing, making it difficult to look away. He wanted to look away. No, he reminded himself, he had to. As he dragged his gaze from hers, he noticed a speck of dirt on her face.
“You, ah, have something on your cheek.” He touched his own face to keep from touching hers.
She made a face and rubbed her cheek. “Better?”
No, not better at all. “About an inch below your finger.”
Before he did something stupid like touch her, he turned to give the door another try. “Did you check the diner?” he asked when he couldn’t get the lock to budge.
“I looked around when I walked in. I didn’t see them.”
Neither had he. They weren’t among the many seniors who congregated at the diner on a daily basis. If Dot, the owner, didn’t make the best beef burgers in town, Gabe would’ve headed to Highland Brew. Housed in an old mill on the water, the pub-slash-coffeehouse had a younger clientele. It was where he’d met Mallory.
But besides the burgers, eating at the diner—as was the former chief of police’s habit—was part of Gabe’s plan to win over the seniors of Highland Falls. They’d been playing with him like cats with a cornered rat since he’d taken the job as chief of police five months before.
His officers assured him they were just putting him through his paces—Gabe being an outsider and all—and would soon tire of their fun and games. They’d better because, if he didn’t win them over soon, he’d most likely throw them all in jail and get fired. For his sons’ sakes, he had to keep this job no matter how much he didn’t want it.
Mallory searched his face. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“The boys aren’t in there.”
“How do you know? You haven’t even opened the door.”
“The door’s been jammed.” Plus, it was too quiet.
She clutched her leather jacket at her throat. “You don’t think someone took them, do you?”
“Relax, Mallory. We’ll find them.” As a father of three boys, he empathized with her fear but he knew better than to make her a promise like that. Still, he was ninety-nine-point-nine-percent certain of the outcome. He’d also say just about anything to wipe the fear from her eyes.
Apparently, his reassurance didn’t work. As though seeking comfort, she moved closer. He gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze and then asked her to give him some room.
“Of course. Sorry.” She backed away, wincing when his shoulder hit the door. The moment it burst open, the coins her stepsons had wrapped together to jam the door flew across the tiled floor. Beneath the window sat a garbage can.
The boys had gone AWOL.
As Gabe moved into the empty restroom, his adrenaline spiked at the opportunity to do some actual police work. It wasn’t as if he wanted any harm to come to Mallory’s stepsons but, other than the seniors of Highland Falls sending him on wild-goose chases, there were days when he thought he’d lose his mind from boredom.
He missed his old job as a homicide detective in New York. There’d been nothing he enjoyed more than tracking down the bad guys and putting them behind bars.
“Dadgummit, Chief, what are you doing busting down my bathroom door?”
He turned to the sturdy woman with the steel-gray spiked hair
staring in at him with her hands on her hips. “Sorry about that, Dot. Couldn’t be helped. We’ve got a couple of missing boys.”
“If I’d gotten to you a few seconds sooner, might’ve saved my door,” she grumbled, surveying the damage before lifting her gaze to Gabe. “Jimmy just called. He found a couple stowaways in his rig. He’s bringing them on back here.”
“Two teenage boys?” he asked. Beside him Mallory held her breath.
Dot nodded, turning her hard gaze on Mallory. “They say their stepmother keeps them locked in their rooms and doesn’t feed them for weeks at a time.”
“No.” Mallory laughed, then pressed two clear-polished fingers to her lips, her gaze darting from Dot to him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. The boys’ accusations aren’t funny. Far from it. But they’re also not true.” Her eyes were pleading as she held his gaze. “Please, you have to believe me. You have to know that I’d never harm a child or anyone else for that…”
Her shoulders slumped. “You don’t really know me though, do you? All you know are the lies—”
“There had to be a reason your late husband left his first wife his fortune and his sons.” The look Dot aimed at Gabe seemed to indicate she wanted him to arrest Mallory right then and there.
“My husband didn’t leave Marsha his fortune. She contested the will.” Mallory briefly closed her eyes as if mad at herself for letting Dot draw her in. “But none of that’s important right now. I have legal cust—”
Dot cut her off. “Mrs. Maitland the First contested the will and won. Court awarded her the money, the mansion, and the boys. Must’ve had a good reason. Maybe they knew you weren’t fit to raise them. Guess it’s true what they say. The apple doesn’t fall—”
Gabe didn’t know why he was surprised the older woman went there. He should’ve cut her off sooner. “That’s enough, Dot. How about you get back to your job and let me do mine?”
“Don’t see your cuffs out so not sure I trust you to do your job. I’d feel a darn sight more confident justice would be served if Owen was back wearing the badge.”
Like the rest of the seniors in town, Dot believed that the former and beloved chief of police, Owen Campbell, had been forced to retire to make way for Gabe. There was also some resentment among the younger generation, who felt the position should’ve been awarded to one of their own. The one thing both factions agreed upon: Gabe had gotten the job because palms had been greased.
He suspected their suspicions might be true. Although he’d never confronted his in-laws, who had the means and the motive. That was one boat he didn’t rock. He was too afraid of what they’d say if he did.
Mallory looked from Dot to him, her eyes wide.
Yeah, welcome to my world, Gabe thought before saying to Dot, “Where I’m from, we don’t arrest someone without evidence, and right now all we have is the word of a couple of teenage boys who aren’t happy about moving to Highland Falls.” He understood how they felt. He wished his boys felt the same.
“Is that right? So you didn’t arrest her on hearsay once before?”
Dammit. He’d walked into that. “I had evidence,” he said, then winced when Mallory crossed her arms. “Planted evidence that was false, of course, but I did have reason to suspect—” He cut himself off. This wasn’t an argument he could win. “We might as well head out front. Jimmy will be pulling in with your stepsons anytime now.”
Mallory opened her mouth and then glanced from him to Dot and closed it. He suspected she’d been going to ask if he believed her but thought better about asking in front of Dot. Good call.
As he followed Mallory to the front of the diner, from behind him the older woman muttered, “Should’ve known he’d be taken in by a pretty face.”
Gabe stopped, about to turn around and defend himself and Mallory, but then he thought better of it and kept walking. No matter what he said, Dot wouldn’t believe him. As he’d learned, once the senior citizens of Highland Falls formed an opinion, good luck trying to change their minds. They were as stubborn as they were judgmental.
All conversation in the diner died as they made their way to the front door. Mallory bowed her head and quickened her pace, tripping on the mat. Gabe reached out and took her by the arm.
The whispers started then, the volume ratcheting up when several seniors called, “What’s that you said, Hamish?”
“I said it’s no surprise she can’t take care of them boys. Her daddy couldn’t take care of her.”
“Who’s her daddy?”
Mallory made a low, distressed sound, and Gabe moved in front of her to open the door, casting a shut-it stare at the seniors in the diner.
He imagined that the negative attention brought back memories of what Mallory had endured during the court fight with her late husband’s ex. The press had eviscerated her. Their attacks were unwarranted as far as he knew. Her youth, beauty, and wealth at the time had played against her.
“You okay?” he asked as they stepped outside, the door closing behind them.
She wrapped her arms around herself and gave her head a small, negative shake. “I don’t know what I was thinking accepting the job.”
“Why did you?” He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket as he scanned the highway for Jimmy’s rig. Gabe wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy, yet with Mallory, that was all he seemed to want to do—reach out and offer her comfort. “Sorry, none of my business,” he said when the silence between them lengthened.
“No, it’s fine. I have to tell you anyway. If only so you’ll understand why Oliver and Brooks are accusing me of being an abusive parent.” She looked across at the tree-covered mountains, blinking back what he imagined were tears. “I can’t believe they said those things about me. I mean, I knew they were mad about the move but what they said…” She trailed off.
“Look, they probably thought if they made you out to be bad enough, Jimmy would sympathize with them and take them wherever they wanted to go. What they didn’t know is driving truck is a side-hustle for Jimmy. He’s one of my officers.” And Gabe didn’t have the budget to give him full-time hours. Another strike against him in the eyes of Highland Falls’ seniors.
“I know exactly where they wanted to go—the thirty-four-thousand-square-foot mansion in Atlanta. I don’t blame them. Some days I wouldn’t mind going back there myself. But Marsha got the estate along with the money and the boys. Only two months ago she decided she didn’t want them.” Staring straight ahead, she flicked an impatient finger under her lashes.
“So why would the boys want to go back to her if she doesn’t want them?” She cast him a you can’t be serious glance. “Aside from the fact they’d be living in a mansion the size of my street.”
“They don’t know she doesn’t want them.” She lifted a shoulder at his incredulous stare. “I told them I fought for custody and won. Marsha went along with it.”
No wonder the boys were mad at her. From what Abby had told him, Mallory’s living arrangements were several steps down from how she used to live. “Why would you do that?”
“They lost their father last year, but even if they hadn’t, I’m not going to tell them that a woman they looked to as a grandmother doesn’t want them.”
After what Marsha Maitland had put Mallory through, he was surprised she didn’t tell her stepsons the truth. “So what did you tell them?”
“That she was too old.” There was a glint of amusement in her eyes before it dimmed, and she made a face. “That came back to bite me pretty quick.”
He imagined it had, since her late husband, the boys’ father, was several years older than his first wife. Gabe decided to keep that observation to himself.
She glanced at the diner over her shoulder. “Looks like my decision to move back here is doing the same.”
“Don’t let them get to you. They’re annoying but harmless.” What the hell was he thinking? He should be encouraging her to leave, not encouraging her to stay.
“Easy for
you to say. I have to work with them, and now they think I’m an unfit parent. Not to mention having to live down my father’s reputation.”
She was handing him the perfect ammunition to get her to reconsider the mayor’s job offer, only he couldn’t bring himself to use it. Sometimes the overprotective side of him was as big a pain in his ass as the senior citizens of Highland Falls. “I haven’t had any trouble with your father since I took over from Owen, so you can put that worry aside.”
Her father, Boyd Carlisle, lived in a shack in the mountains and, according to multiple charges filed against him over the years, made moonshine without a license. Gabe had also heard him referred to as the town drunk. Since he hadn’t met the man or seen him in town, he couldn’t say if the rumors were true. But the part about Boyd not taking care of his daughter was.
From what Gabe had been able to piece together, Mallory had been removed from her father’s care when she was twelve, remaining in foster care until she’d aged out at eighteen. He suspected her past played into why she’d assumed custody of her stepsons, and damned if the thought didn’t fill him with both admiration and sympathy and an urge to give her a hug.
“We’ll clear up your stepsons’ accusations as soon as they get back, and that’ll be the end of it.”
“I hope so,” she said, then gave him a small smile. “Thank you, you know, for not arresting me.”
“I guess I deserve that. But honestly, I was left with very little choice last summer, Mallory.”
“I know. Really, I do. I understand how convincing—”
His cell phone’s insistent ring interrupted her. “Give me a sec,” he said, then took the call. “What’s up, Ruby?” he asked the older woman who handled just about everything at the station, including dispatch when they were in a bind.
“The gal from social services is here. I set her up in your office. How long before you get here with those poor boys?”
Gabe turned. Dot stood at the door to the diner with her arms crossed and her eyebrows raised in challenge. Or was it victory?
As he tried to figure out how to break the news to Mallory that things had just gotten a whole lot worse for her, Ruby continued talking. “I’ve ordered them up a pizza. They must be starved. And I’m having Sam clear out a cell for that woman who calls herself a mother.” Ruby breathed out what sounded like a sigh of relief, then said to Gabe, “I’ll see you when you get here.” She hung up but, as was the case practically every time she did, the call hadn’t completely disconnected.