Wanted--The Perfect Mom

by T. R. McClure

  He crossed the street and opened the door to Hair Today at the end of the little strip mall.

  “Hey, Mac, looking for a haircut?” Megan threw him a smile as she worked on a pretty young woman in the chair.

  “Any shorter and I’d be bald.” Mac ran a hand over his closely shorn hair and grinned. “I was wondering if you’ve noticed anything missing the last few weeks.”

  “Funny you should ask.” She lifted a strand of honey-colored hair and cut off an inch. “I’m missing three cans of mousse. I’m sure because I’m a stickler for inventory.”

  Being at the end of the tiny strip mall, Megan had plenty of windows, but they were all still intact. If someone had entered Megan’s salon after closing, they had found another way. “Just so you know, we’re keeping a close eye on this end of town. Let me know if you notice anything suspicious.” When Megan nodded, Mac left the store.

  Standing outside the hair salon, he stared across the street. Did Tom Johnson have a security plan in place? In all likelihood, he did. But being new to the force, Mac wanted to check.

  Making a mental note to meet with Tom before the end of the following week, Mac headed toward the coffee shop.

  “Daddy.”

  Mac flew backward as a tiny dynamo wrapped herself around his legs. He looked into his mother’s smiling face. “What are you doing here? I didn’t expect you until late tonight.”

  Erma settled into a nearby rocker. “We left yesterday, came halfway and did some sightseeing.”

  “I went swimming in a pool in the motel, Daddy.”

  Mac lifted her into his arms. Although tall for a five-year-old, she weighed hardly more than a feather. “Hi, Riley.” He pulled at the tiny arms wrapped around his neck. Her fist clutched one corner of a blanket as the rest trailed to the floor. “You’re choking me, kid.” The tightness around his neck matched the tightness in his chest. He’d figured he had hours to prepare himself for this moment. He’d been wrong.

  Riley let go of Mac’s neck, leaned her head against his chest and stuck her thumb in her mouth.

  Mac looked at his mother in surprise. “When did she start that?”

  Erma rocked gently and sighed. “Liz said she started right after the holidays.”

  Mac frowned. He had moved back to Bear Meadows in early fall and spent a week with his former in-laws at Christmas. He didn’t need a psychology degree to figure out why his daughter had started sucking her thumb again. “Right after I left.”

  Erma patted Mac on the shoulder. “Well, now that she’s with her dad I’m sure she’ll stop soon enough. Come on, Riley. Let’s get you home and settled into your bedroom. Okay?”

  Mac peeled his daughter from his chest and set her on the porch. “Go with Grandma, Riley.”

  “Can we have pizza for dinner tonight, Daddy?” Leaning against his legs, his daughter peered up at him with light blue eyes identical to her mother’s.

  He fought a stab of pain in his chest. “Ask Grandma.”

  She turned her gaze to the older woman. “Can we, Grandma?”

  “Of course. What time will you be home, John?”

  He rubbed at his breastbone. “I don’t know. You two go ahead and eat without me.”

  The rocker paused and his mother raised an eyebrow. “We should celebrate Riley’s first night home. Surely you can make it to dinner.”

  Mac took a deep breath. “Sure, Mom. I’ll get the pizza and be home by six.”

  Erma smiled and reached out a hand to her granddaughter. “Wonderful. Let’s go, honey.”

  In just six months the girl had seemed to grow a foot. He hadn’t realized how quickly children changed. One minute a toddler and then the next, a little girl, a tiny replica of her mother. He sighed and headed for the coffee shop.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  HOLLY MADE AN iced latte and settled onto the stool at the end of the counter. She needed something to help her process the revelation that Mac’s daughter was no longer hundreds of miles away but right here in town. Maybe a shot of caffeine would do the trick.

  A child. Mac’s child. Is she old enough to eat a hot dog in a bun? Valerie and Chris, Rose and the just-arrived Carolyn clustered around the chairs discussing the latest news.

  “The new librarian started last week. Have you been to the new building, Mom?” Carolyn confined her curly hair with a massive clip.

  Settling onto the arm of the chair where Chris sat reading a magazine, Rose shook her head. “My travels have been between the house and the coffee shop, plus Holly’s books are keeping me entertained. Is she nice?”

  “Seems to be. I took Freddy to story hour. She decorated the children’s area with cat posters and stuffed animals and then read Dr. Seuss’s The Cat in the Hat. The kids loved it.”

  “Is she married?”

  “Single. I think she’s a couple years younger than I am.”

  Holly leaned back and sighed. They all seemed so content, so comfortable with their lives and the paths they traveled. She, on the other hand, wondered if she had missed an exit somewhere. Or perhaps, to make the analogy more appropriate, if she had taken an exit when she should have stayed on the highway.

  Sure, she knew Mac was a widower. She knew he was a father. A father from a distance. Until now. The news left a decidedly bitter taste in her mouth, as if she had swallowed day-old coffee. But then, Mac McAndrews’s personal life was none of her business. She was in the coffee business. She sipped and swirled the rich blend around her mouth.

  When the door opened she wasn’t surprised to see Mac silhouetted against the lowered sun. He probably wanted to tell the Hoffmans his daughter was in town. Visiting. Holly squinted. The man walking toward her looked different. Older. Of course. He was a father. As if a veil had dropped from her eyes, she saw the two of them as they were. Adults. With responsibilities. Big responsibilities.

  Gathering their belongings, the teenagers, quiet for a change, eyed Mac and sauntered past him.

  “Hey, Mac, what’s new?” Chris carried his daughter to the now-empty alcove, where his wife sat with a children’s book in her hand. The afternoon sunlight shone brightly through the corner window.

  Mac threw his old friend a smile before returning his gaze to Holly. “Hi. I wanted to talk to you, if you have a minute.”

  Holly willed a coolness over her body as she hooked her feet on the rungs of the stool. One kiss didn’t mean anything. One kiss wasn’t a commitment. “You’ve been busy this week.”

  “Last week of school, lots going on.” Mac lowered his voice. “Nice seeing you away from the store last weekend. I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go out sometime, grab dinner, a movie.” He smiled, but when Holly didn’t answer, the smile faded.

  Ba-bump. Holly took a deep breath. “You know, Mac, I’ve been thinking—”

  “What are you two whispering about over here?” Carrying the empty cups left by the teens, Chris reached between Holly and Mac to set the dishes on the counter. He looked from one to the other. “Did I interrupt something?”

  Holly caught Mac’s eye just before he replied. Though they had never spoken the words, somehow she knew neither of them wanted her family involved.

  “I was telling Holly I’ve decided to do a stakeout of the strip mall tonight.”

  Holly straightened on hearing this new information. “You are?” At Mac’s widened eyes she said, “Yes, you are.”

  Chris leaned on the wall next to Holly and crossed his arms. “No kidding? Things are that bad?” He nudged Holly with his shoulder. “Were you robbed?”

  “Not exactly. We’ve all been missing things.”

  “All of you? The only things you mentioned to me was your coffee cups and you said people just forget to bring them back.”

  “Right, I know,” she said. “A couple mornings we h
ad fewer cookies than I thought we did. But then, Sonny has a key. He’s always hungry.”

  “You don’t do inventory?” Chris furrowed his brow.

  Hearing the words out loud, Holly couldn’t believe it either, and she was grateful her father wasn’t anywhere around. “Well, no, not yet. I haven’t had time.” She raised her voice to reach Carolyn and Rose, still discussing the library. “Did you two divide up the tips this week?”

  “I didn’t.” Playing peekaboo with her granddaughter, Rose smiled.

  “Me, neither.” Carolyn shrugged.

  Chris narrowed his eyes. “You should take inventory.”

  “I know, I know,” Holly said, holding up both hands. “So when are you doing this stakeout?”

  “Tonight.”

  “What time?”

  Mac shrugged. “Sometime after everyone closes.”

  “Sue closes at four,” she said. “And Cheri closes at five. Megan has an eight o’clock appointment tonight. Pierre is often in his shop till midnight.”

  “Okay, thanks for the information.” Mac started to move away.

  “So I’ll meet you across the street in the vacant lot at midnight.” Her words brought him to an immediate halt.

  Looking over his shoulder, he squinted, as if uncertain he’d heard correctly. “What? No, you won’t.”

  “You obviously don’t know this area like I do.” Holly slid off her stool.

  “Of course I do.”

  Passing behind the espresso maker, Holly stood next to the cash register and leaned on the counter. “What time is the trash pickup out back?”

  Mac’s chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath. He didn’t answer.

  Sending Mac a bright smile, Holly nodded. “Just as I thought. Midnight. Vacant lot.”

  “Listen, Holly, this is my job—” The hopeful face Mac was wearing when he’d first walked into the shop had disappeared, replaced by the professional one.

  “And this is my livelihood, Mac McAndrews. If someone wants to ruin it they go through me.” Holly took a deep breath. She was expecting more of an argument when the bell over the door jingled.

  “Chief McAndrews, I’ve been looking for you all over town. I might have known I’d find you here.”

  Turning toward the newcomer, Mac gave her a professional smile. “Did you buy a Harley, Mayor?”

  “Pshaw.” The woman waved a hand, a bright yellow half helmet dangling from her fingers. “They’re gas hogs. I got a motor scooter—” she pointed at a bright yellow motorized vehicle parked out front “—that gets sixty miles to the gallon.” She stared at the machine, a pleased smile on her face when her expression changed and she remembered her mission. “Anyway, Chief, I do need to talk to you. Holly, may I have a coffee? I brought my thermos.”

  “Sure.” Grateful for the interruption, Holly reached for the battered silver container.

  “I’ll take one, too. To go.” Mac’s voice carried an undercurrent of displeasure.

  Grabbing a take-out cup from the stack, Holly filled it and the thermos, then set them both on the counter.

  The mayor handed Holly a five-dollar bill, but her gaze was glued to the take-out cup. “Where’s your travel mug, Chief?” Her hand hovering in the air for her change, the shorter woman frowned. “You should set an example.”

  Reaching for his cup, Mac chewed one corner of his lower lip. “I don’t have one, Mayor.”

  Hiding a smile, Holly handed the mayor her change. “You get more for your money when you bring your own container, Mac.” She did a double take at his surly expression. “Just a thought.”

  Taking the coffee, the mayor linked her arm through Mac’s. He narrowed his eyes. “We’ll talk.” Then Mac grabbed his cup as the mayor pulled him toward the door.

  Holly suppressed a shiver as the bell over the door sounded their exit. Sure, we will. Tonight.

  * * *

  “LOOK AT THAT vacant lot, Chief. The disarray reflects badly on the town.” She set her rocker moving with a sneakered foot.

  Mac’s earlier good mood had disappeared like rain on hot pavement. Riley showing up when she did had thrown him completely off balance. Holly hadn’t had time to give him an answer before Chris appeared. Her family did get in the way sometimes. Years ago Holly had been in the way. She and her friends had always tagged along with Chris and his friends. When had it changed?

  He gritted his teeth. “I know, Mayor, but I don’t know what you want me to do about it. I’m more concerned with preventing crime.”

  “Can’t you arrest litterbugs?” The mayor leaned forward, as if to get a better look at the vacant lot. A slight breeze scattered the bits of paper and blew them into the street.

  “I suppose, but to tell you the truth, I haven’t seen one litterbug.”

  They sat in silence as they studied the lot.

  Mailbag slung over his shoulder, Bill paused at the door to the hair salon. Skinny legs protruded from khaki shorts. “Nice scooter, Mayor.” He touched a finger to his hat and disappeared into the store.

  The mayor was still eyeing the vacant lot, but she had a smile on her face that hadn’t been there a minute ago. Why had Bill ignored him? He was sitting right there. “Are you and—”

  “What about those kids who hang out in the evening?” The mayor rested her cup on the flat arm of the rocker.

  Mac shook his head. He, too, had noticed the teens spending time in the lot at dusk, but they hadn’t done anything illegal. Truth be told, they didn’t have anywhere else to get together. “They have to hang out somewhere. What are they supposed to do?”

  “They can go to the amusement park and leave their trash in the bins.”

  “The park costs money and requires wheels to get there. Not everybody has a car.” Mac tapped his toe, anxious to get back to Holly and find out what she’d meant by you know, Mac, I’ve been thinking. “Why don’t we put a trash can in the lot?”

  The mayor rolled her eyes. “We have a trash can right here. Well, try to think up a solution, Mac. I could use some help with this.” With a sigh the mayor stood and screwed the lid on her thermos. Then she descended the steps and placed the thermos in the little basket on the back of her scooter. Setting the helmet on her head she buckled it under her chin. “Don’t forget to buy a travel mug.” With a wave of her fingers, she motored down the street.

  “Chief McAndrews.” Pierre Lefonte stood at the door to his shop and beckoned.

  Mac followed the Frenchman into his store. Electronic gadgets and parts lined the walls and computers covered a counter toward the back. “How’s business, Pierre?”

  Pierre gestured toward a stool, went behind the counter and sat on another stool. He stroked his chin, which always had just a day’s growth of dark beard. “Unbelievable. When my wife suggested I open this shop, I didn’t think we’d last six months, and it has already been a year.”

  “How is Jessie?”

  “She’s doing well. Busy, though. Economics is not an easy subject but she’s in her last year. I don’t know what will happen when she receives her doctorate. If she gets a job in another state...” He raised one dark, bushy eyebrow and waved a hand.

  “In the meantime you’re meeting a need in this town.”

  “I’m meeting somebody’s need. Last night I closed late and didn’t take my deposit to the bank. When I came in this morning I was missing a hundred dollars.” He punched a button on the computer screen and a drawer popped open.

  “How much was in the drawer?” Mac asked.

  “A little over three hundred dollars, but still... We have bills to pay.”

  “Do you have any employees who might have borrowed the money?”

  “So far, no, although I could use some help.”

  “That’s odd. Why take just a hundred dolla
rs?” Mac took in the clutter and apparent disorganization behind the counter. He chose his next words carefully. “Are you sure you’re missing money? Why didn’t you call me this morning, Pierre? I would’ve dusted for fingerprints.”

  Pierre ran a hand through his dark hair and shrugged. “Jessie said she needed some cash. I thought she stopped in on her way to school. We didn’t talk until this afternoon. You know how it is, Chief. We’re like two ships passing in the night. This is married life these days, no?”

  Mac leaned one arm on the counter and stared out the window at the vacant lot across the street. He had finally adapted to Anne’s loss, especially after he moved home and everything he saw didn’t remind him of his wife. But sometimes, a person would say those things only married people identify with, and pain would stab him right in the middle of the chest, worse than any heartburn. He breathed deeply and focused his thoughts on the minor thefts occurring in the little strip mall. Sue and her change and now Pierre and his missing hundred dollars. The bank robbery, which he hoped had nothing to do with this, was a whole other story.

  Mac ran his hand over his short hair and straightened. “I’ll keep an eye out, but if this happens again, call us right away. In the meantime I’ll have Officer Williams drive by on his patrol during the night.”

  “Thank you, Chief.” Pierre came around the counter and patted Mac on the shoulder.

  “Tell your wife I said hello.”

  Mac stepped onto the porch and shut the door behind him. After the air-conditioned store, the June heat hit him like a sledgehammer. He took off his hat and fanned his face. Across the street the vacant lot looked worse than it had in the spring. Paper cups and napkins littered the dirt and weeds grew in patches. He settled his hat on the back of his head and walked to his patrol car. Mayor Gold and her beautification program would just have to wait. So would Holly.

  His mother and his little girl were expecting him home for pizza. And he was late.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “STOP OR I’LL SHOOT.” Holly jerked her hands out of her jeans pockets and pointed her fingers at the full-length mirror on the back of her closet door. At eleven thirty Saturday evening, Holly could easily have been mistaken for a cat burglar. Black jeans, black T-shirt, black sneakers, black hair. What else did you wear to a stakeout? She tiptoed down the stairs of the big Victorian and slipped out the front door. No sense alarming her parents. Her father would tell her she had no business being on a stakeout, to leave everything to Mac. But she had no intention of leaving anything to Mac.