“Not so tough,” she added with a grin.
“Don’t be fooled by the clothes.”
“You forget, I’ve seen you with Zoey. You have a marshmallow for a heart.”
“Only for her.”
“No one else?” Carolina asked coyly.
Was she a mind reader, too? He wanted to say something witty back to her but his speech center had temporarily shut down.
She laughed and blithely moved on to a new subject, effectively reducing his confidence around women to that of a high school freshman.
“I’m beat. How do you keep up with Zoey all day?”
“I can’t. That’s why I hired Carmen.”
“Smart man.”
Casual bantering came easily to Carolina. It would be equally easy to respond to her. Neil needed to shore up his defenses—and fast—if he was to stay on track during the evening ahead.
“Did your family agree to give the radio station exclusive rights to the illegal mining story?” he asked.
She hesitated, then, in typical Carolina fashion, forged ahead. “Yes, they did.”
“And did your boss award you the story?”
“Yes, he did.”
Neil didn’t realize until that moment how much he’d been hoping for a different answer.
“You aren’t going to help me,” she said flatly.
There went his plan for letting her down slowly. “No.”
Before he could elaborate, the pizza arrived. Neither of them dug in. Neil scanned the crowd for Zoey. Finally finding her, he summoned her over to the table by holding up a paper plate with a slice of pizza on it. While he and Carolina waited for his daughter, she dished up two more slices, giving one to him.
For Zoey’s sake, Neil wolfed down his pizza. She was already asking too many questions about his restlessness and diminished appetite. The last thing he wanted was for her to pick up on the tension between him and Carolina, who was making a much better show of eating than he was. He figured it was her way of demonstrating to him that his refusal to cooperate with her request didn’t bother her.
“What kind of dog are you going to get?” Zoey asked Carolina around a large piece of crust that was almost more than she could handle.
“I haven’t decided. Probably one that was a stray or abandoned and really needs a home.”
Carolina and Zoey went on to discuss the merits and drawbacks of various breeds, big versus small, fluffy versus short-haired, purebred versus mixed, cute versus—well, they were all cute according to Zoey.
Neil began to reconsider his plan to wait to get a pet. If his daughter was occupied with a dog, she’d pay less attention to him and the stress that was affecting his mood. Then, when Otis returned to work, Neil’s life could resume its quiet routine.
Except for Carolina.
“Can I go play now?” Zoey asked when she was done eating. Pizza sauce was smeared all over her face.
He picked up a napkin and started to wipe her chin.
“Daddy.” She grabbed the napkin from him and scrubbed at the sauce. “I’m not a baby.”
“Sorry. I forget sometimes.”
She fled the table with only half the sauce removed but all of his heart.
“She’s adorable,” Carolina told him. “You’re a very lucky father.”
“I am.” The time had come to be honest. “I had a reason for bringing her with us tonight.”
“Oh?”
“I wanted you to see firsthand how important she is to me.”
“I never doubted for one second she wasn’t.”
“I admit, I’m overprotective of her. It comes with the job and being a single parent.” Neil pushed aside the aluminum tray with its three slices of uneaten pizza. “Also the circumstances of Lynne’s death.”
“You’re going to have to let Zoey go eventually.”
“Spoken like someone who doesn’t have any children.”
Carolina didn’t appear offended by his blunt remark. “You’re right. It’s not my place to judge or criticize.”
“And you’re right, too. I will have to let her go one day. But not yet.”
“I don’t wish to be unkind, but are you sure that isn’t your guilt talking?”
“It probably is.” Admitting a potential flaw in his thinking changed nothing.
She placed the leftover pizza in a take-out box the server had left on the table for them. “I don’t see what any of this has to do with refusing to cooperate with me on the story about the illegal mining. I thought you’d be happy I was given a new assignment.”
“The illegal mining operation is no backyard recreation project. You can bet whoever’s behind the digging is serious, has resources and is dangerous.” The CSI team’s preliminary investigation had confirmed Neil’s initial findings. “They don’t want to be exposed. They don’t want to be caught. And there’s no telling what action they’ll take to prevent either of those things from happening. You could find yourself an unintentional target, caught in the middle or…hurt.”
He imagined worse but refrained from saying it.
“People are entitled to know what’s going on in their community,” she proclaimed passionately.
He’d heard that line before and was immune. “I don’t care about the people in this community.”
She gave a soft, mirthless chuckle. “That’s a strange attitude for the man charged with serving and protecting them.”
“Not like I care about you.”
That shut her up. For about ten seconds.
“How much?”
She had to ask.
“Too much.”
“Then why won’t you help me? This assignment is important to me. It’s the career break I’ve been waiting for.”
“Because your safety and well-being are more important to me than your job.”
“You’re overreacting,” she insisted. “I’m not in danger.”
“You are, just by virtue of being one of the ranch owners. Investigating the illegal mining will triple the risk. I can’t, I won’t, elevate your exposure by helping you with the story.”
“I think you’re letting Lynne’s death affect your judgment.”
“Hell, yes, I am.”
“We’re not dealing with a serial killer here.”
He could almost feel the gun in his hand, hear the Delivery Man’s shot as it ricocheted off the brick building outside the deli. “That doesn’t make the individuals behind the digging any less ruthless.”
“Now that the mine’s been discovered, I’m sure they’ve left town. Why would they stick around?”
“Because they live here.”
She sat up. “I know that’s what the papers are saying, but do you really think so?”
“Yes. There are two aspects to every operation, brains and money. The money may not be local but the brains are. How else would they know where to dig?”
“Which is even more reason for me to do the story. We have criminals operating and residing among us.”
Rather than dissuade her, his argument had fired her up.
“Wrong. If these people know the area, it stands to reason they know you and your family. You’re not the only one who could be in jeopardy. What if something were to happen to Briana or one of your other nieces?”
His remark appeared to take at least some of the wind from her sails. “What if I promise to be careful?” she asked.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Fine.” She wiped her hands on a paper napkin and tossed it aside. “I’ll just find another connection in the department—or the Payson Police or the Arizona Geological Society.”
“Don’t be so stubborn.”
“Don’t be so controlling.”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“Right. Because you care about me. Which, let’s face it, is irrelevant because you refuse to get involved with me.”
“If I did get involved with you, would you turn down the story?” He knew he’d messed up the
instant the words left his mouth.
She drew herself up. “Thank you very much, but I don’t need to negotiate for a man in my life.”
“Sorry.” How often was he going to apologize to her? “That came out wrong.”
“I’m leaving now.” She lifted a leg over the picnic table bench. “Don’t worry, I can catch a ride back to the ranch.”
“I’ll drive you home.” Neil also untangled himself from the table, with much less grace than Carolina, and went on the hunt for Zoey. When he found her with some of the boys at the air hockey table, he called her name. She didn’t look happy at having to leave her friends.
Swell. Now both his dinner companions were angry at him.
He helped Carolina on with her coat, then Zoey. Neither of them appreciated his efforts.
“Do we have to go?” Zoey complained.
“It’s a school night.”
“My fault, sweetie.” Carolina took hold of Zoey’s hand. “I have an early curfew. But I promise to make it up to you.”
“How?”
Carolina scrunched her mouth to one side, deliberating. “We could go for ice cream after we finish dog shopping.”
“Dog shopping?” Zoey giggled.
They walked ahead of Neil toward the exit, intentionally or unintentionally excluding him.
Frankly, he didn’t know how he felt. Part of him was pleased to see his daughter bonding with Carolina. Zoey needed a strong female role model in her life. The other part of him resented the intrusion. He was used to having his daughter to himself. That she should so easily respond to someone other than him left him mildly jealous and, he was reluctant to admit, a tad insecure.
Reality hit him square in the heart.
Like it or not, whatever safeguards he took, his daughter was going to meet and develop meaningful relationships with people outside their small family, including some future young man. Neil could accept that, as long as Zoey loved him and included him in her life. And waited. Fifteen, twenty years ought to do it.
What about him? Was he willing to wait fifteen or twenty years until Zoey was grown and out of the house to have a serious relationship?
Carolina was too vibrant and attractive, not to mention impatient, to hang on for that long on the off chance he’d wise up. Especially when he offered little in return.
Lately, he’d found himself wondering how Lynne would have felt about the prospect of another woman filling her shoes. They’d only discussed how she and Zoey would continue on if anything happened to Neil, a much more likely possibility considering their jobs. Knowing the depths of her love for him and Zoey, he guessed she’d want them to cherish her memory and their years together, but to find someone else who made them happy.
None of that, however, lessened the guilt he suffered over her death or the fear that history would repeat itself with someone else.
With Carolina.
An older couple and two youngsters who looked like grandchildren entered the restaurant at the same time Neil was exiting. He recalled the couple from a vandalism he’d responded to the previous month at their house.
“How are you?” He nodded pleasantly.
They gave him an odd look and a murmured, “Hello.”
Neil thought it was a bit strange, but people’s reaction to law enforcement officials was often reserved and uncomfortable, even when they had no reason to be nervous.
Carolina and Zoey were already outside, and he quickened his pace in order to catch up with them. Turned out there was no need. They were waiting for him by the newspaper box, chatting up a storm.
In the next instant, that changed. Carolina grabbed Zoey’s arm and yanked her away, saying in a falsely bright voice something about finding the car.
Neil’s instinct kicked in, and he closed the distance between them in a hurry. “What’s wrong?”
Carolina’s cheeks had lost all their color. I’m sorry, she mouthed, and her eyes darted to the newspaper dispenser.
A stack of the evening edition faced out.
Neil read the headline. A sensation akin to being kicked in the stomach almost brought him to his knees—Acting Sheriff Lovitt Investigated In Late Wife’s Death.
Chapter Eight
“Neil!” Sheriff Herberger boomed, ushering Neil inside. “Good to see you.”
“Hi, Otis. Hope I’m not bothering you. When I called earlier, your wife said you wouldn’t mind the company.”
“Are you kidding? A week at home and I’m already going nuts. Driving Patty nuts, too,” he said, referring to his wife. “It’s going to be a long leave of absence for both of us.”
Neil removed his hat, hung it on a nearby coatrack and followed the sheriff into a cozy front room. Despite the older man’s obvious good spirits, his step lacked its usual spring, evidence that the recent heart surgery had taken a toll on him.
“Can I get you a cup of coffee or cold drink?”
“Coffee’s fine.” Neil took a seat in the chair facing the window. The entranceway to the living room was on his left. Old cop habits died hard, he thought as he sank into the soft cushions. The chair’s location allowed him to see the room from all angles as well as the street outside.
“Cream and sugar, right?” Otis asked.
“If you have it.”
“I’ll warn you, the coffee’s decaf. Patty won’t let me drink anything else.”
“Decaf’s fine.”
Neil would have appreciated the extra kick to his system. He’d spent half the night tossing and turning or pacing the floor, trying to get that damned newspaper headline out of his mind. The second he’d seen it, he’d been hurled back in time four years ago to a similar headline in another newspaper. That one had nearly destroyed what little had been left of his life.
“Sit tight, I’ll be right back,” Otis said, leaving Neil alone.
The decision to visit the sheriff had come to him about two in the morning during one of his numerous trips to the kitchen. It would probably be an exercise in futility, but he wasn’t one to sit around doing nothing. He needed to find out who had leaked the story about Lynne to the newspaper and why. The sheriff might be able to help. If nothing else, he was someone Neil could confide in without having to hold back or watch what he said. That alone would be a relief.
While he waited for Otis, he removed his jacket and studied the room. It was packed with enough antiques, old photographs and personal memorabilia for three houses. This wasn’t Neil’s first visit to the Herberger home since moving to Payson. On those occasions, Otis had recounted the house’s long and colorful history as one of the oldest residential dwellings in town.
The house had belonged to his wife Patty’s family. Her great-grandfather, a renowned bootlegger and swindler, had settled in the area—some claimed escaped there—from Iowa during the 1910s when prohibition was in effect. The family’s lawlessness had ended with him. Future generations went on to become some of the town’s most upstanding citizens.
“Here you go.” The sheriff returned, bearing two mugs of steaming coffee.
Neil stood, realizing he should have offered to carry the coffee himself. The older man’s face was flushed from the mild exertion.
“I’m assuming this isn’t a social call,” he remarked once they were both seated. “What’s on your mind?”
Neil cut to the chase. “Did you happen to see last evening’s paper?”
“No. I usually try to read it after dinner but the doctor has me taking a short walk instead, and once I get home from that, I can’t stay awake if my life depended on it.”
“Here.” Neil reached inside the jacket lying across his lap and removed a folded section of the paper. Leaning forward, he passed it to Otis.
Removing a pair of reading glasses from his shirt pocket, the older man snapped open the newspaper. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, then proceeded to read in earnest. When he was done, he handed the paper back to Neil, his features reflecting his disgust.
“You didn’t know t
hey were going to run this?”
“Hell, no!”
“Sorry if I offended you,” Neil said. “You’re well connected in town. I thought someone might have mentioned it to you.”
“I’ve been existing in a cocoon since the surgery. I think folks are afraid of upsetting me and giving me another heart attack.”
“I probably shouldn’t have come by.”
“No, no. I’m glad you did. I’m not an invalid.” He shook his head. “But back to this,” he said dismally. “Finding out about you isn’t hard. Anyone with access to a computer and the Internet could pull up information.”
“Do you have any idea who’d want to do that and why?”
“Have you made any enemies since coming here?”
“There are a few individuals who don’t like me.”
“It goes with the territory.”
“Some of them are on the county payroll.”
His bushy eyebrows shot up. “Just what in the Sam Hill is going on?”
“A couple of the deputies aren’t happy about my appointment.” Neil filled the sheriff in on the grumblings he’d heard and the string of dead phone calls.
“Do any of them dislike you enough to try and damage your reputation?” he asked when Neil was done.
“I’m not sure. You know them better than me. What do you think?”
“I can see one or two of them getting their noses out of joint. Hank especially. He’s been with the department almost as long as me. But to go so far as to employ petty scare tactics and launch a smear campaign?” He jerked his thumb at the newspaper in Neil’s hand. “I don’t know. Strikes me as kind of underhanded, and Hank’s more of the in-your-face type.”
Neil agreed. “If you hear from him or any of the guys, let me know.”
“Count on it.”
“And if you have any advice on how to handle things, I’m willing to listen.”
Their visit continued with Otis giving Neil the benefit of his vast experience. He, in turn, brought Otis up-to-date on what had been happening at the station and in the community. Besides the illegal mining at Bear Creek Ranch, there wasn’t much. Their conversation centered mostly on the current status of the investigation. Neil could almost feel Otis’s desire to get back to work, and he sympathized. Men like him didn’t cotton well to inactivity.
The Accidental Sheriff Page 10