by Kathy Altman
Dear Lord, did this man need to be taught a lesson. She inched down her panties. “Harris?”
“Uh-huh?”
“Do me a favor.” She ditched the panties and reached around for the clasp of her bra, trying not to grimace at the pull of not-so-limber muscles. Why did she think she’d be able to undo the thing this way?
As gracefully as she could manage, she slipped her arms through the straps and twisted the bra so the clasp was in front. A flick of her wrists, and the girls were free.
Harris hissed in a slow breath.
“About that favor,” Eugenia drawled.
“Anything,” he choked. Bless his deprived libido, he hadn’t seemed to notice her struggle. “Anything at all.”
“Shut up.”
“But I never got a chance to apolo—”
Eugenia pressed a hand to his mouth and eased herself down onto his lap. “Shut. Up.”
His lips curved against her hand, but she wasn’t in the mood for lighthearted. She spread her legs wider and snugged in tight, enjoying the upward thrust of his hips. The quiet, too. As much as she enjoyed the deep rasp of his voice, she enjoyed his silence more, because it usually meant he was concentrating on something. And at the moment, that something was the gentle sway of her breasts.
Her breathing quickened as she slid her hand from his mouth and went to urgent work on the buttons of his shirt.
Harris had nothing coherent to say for a solid thirty minutes.
Neither did she.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
KERRY YAWNED AND guzzled the rest of her ice water. Almost done. Once she prepared the bank deposit, she could go home.
She was tempted to text Gil that she’d be coming by after all, but another crazy-busy Ladies’ Night and too many early morning trips in and out of Gil’s bed meant she was ready for some heavy-duty sleep. No doubt he was, too.
She’d miss him, though.
She tamped down the desire rising in her belly. Now was not the time.
Another yawn caught her by surprise as she retrieved the heavy zippered bag from the bottom drawer of Snoozy’s desk. She sorted the contents. Checks, credit receipts, cash.
Wait. She frowned down at the stack of bills in her hand and checked the bag again. Where was the rest of the cash?
There was more. She knew there was more because twice during the evening, she’d thinned out the register.
It had to be here somewhere.
She checked the drawer again and explored every item on top of the desk. Nothing. One by one she yanked out the remaining drawers, metal slamming against metal, contents thudding against each end of the drawer. Still nothing.
Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.
She dropped to her knees and checked beneath the desk and chair. She scanned the kitchen, but there was no earthly reason she’d mistakenly store cash in the sink, or the oven, or the walk-in freezer. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been in the walk-in.
She checked just the same, then hurried out front. She searched the register, the floor, every shelf under the bar. Nothing.
Hand in her hair, she turned a slow, desperate circle. They’d been slammed. Twice she’d taken cash out of the register. She thought she’d stuffed it in the bank bag, but obviously she hadn’t, so what had she done with it?
She shook out her fingers and checked it all again.
Half an hour later, she was sitting at Snoozy’s desk with her head in her hands and her heart in her throat. She should call the police.
Dear God, the last thing she wanted to do was call the police.
Someone pounded on the front door. She squinted at the time on her phone. Two thirty. Had to be Gil.
Or maybe a customer who’d suddenly discovered an extra thousand dollars in her pocket?
She swiped her cheeks and scurried out front. When she opened the door, Gil crowded in, bringing with him a flood of night air that smelled like wet gravel.
“It’s been raining,” he said. He pulled her close and kissed her hard. “I went by Harris’s. When I saw you hadn’t come home yet, I thought I’d better check and see if you were okay.”
“Gil,” she gasped, and clutched at him.
He stiffened. “You’re not okay.” Without looking away from her, he shut and locked the door behind him. “What’s wrong?” His gaze dropped to her stomach. “Is it the baby?”
“No, the baby’s fine.” She tangled her fingers together and brought them up to her chin. “I’m short.”
He was a businessman. He knew exactly what that meant. With a grimace, he sagged back against the door. “How much?”
“Twelve hundred.” Walking backward, she tugged him into the office. “I didn’t make a mistake ringing something up and I didn’t have any deliveries I paid cash for. I didn’t stash the money somewhere safe and then forget it, and I didn’t make anyone’s day by accidentally giving them the wrong change. The money was here, and now it’s gone. It’s gone because someone took it.”
He peeled off his jacket. “Let’s look again.”
“It won’t do any good. I’ve looked everywhere.” She dropped into the desk chair and wrapped her arms around her waist. “It’s not here and I don’t know what to do.”
“Did you call the sheriff?”
Miserably, she shook her head. “That’ll ruin everything. Snoozy trusted me. I promised him I’d be dependable. What am I supposed to tell him when he gets back next week?”
“Kerry, if someone stole the money, that’s not your fault.”
“Yes it is. It means I wasn’t paying enough attention.”
Gil exhaled and sat on the edge of the desk. “The best way to make up for that is to find the money. The best way to find the money is to call the sheriff.”
“And who do you think will be at the top of his suspect list?”
Kerry shoved to her feet, sending the chair rolling. “There were only four people in the kitchen tonight. Ruthie, Dylan, Liz and me.” She started to pace, each hand cupping the opposite elbow. “None of them would have taken that money, and even if someone had their doubts about Dylan, he was never in the kitchen alone. That leaves me.”
“The longer you wait to report this, the more suspicious it’s going to look.” He hesitated. “Is there a reason you don’t want to call the sheriff?”
She jerked to a halt and stared at him, speechless.
“You’ve been under a lot of pressure, what with the baby and all. And let’s face it.” His jaw worked. “This wouldn’t be the first time.”
“You think I did this?” she whispered raggedly. “You seriously think I took the money and I’m pretending I didn’t? You think I’m a thief and a liar?” A bolt of anger made her blood sizzle. “That’s what you think of me?”
“Shit.” He scrubbed a hand over his mouth. “I don’t know what to think.”
“I can’t believe... I just...what are we doing? My God.” She stumbled to the sink and braced her hands on the cold metal lip. “You know what? I can’t deal with that right now. I can’t deal with you. I have to deal with the fact that I’m missing twelve hundred dollars.”
“Kerry—”
“No. Stop.” If she gave any more thought to his words and what they meant, she’d end up a howling, fist-pounding mess on the tile floor. Later. Later she could run home, mash her face into a pillow and bawl her eyes out.
One crisis at a time. That’s all she could manage.
Kerry turned her back to the sink. Stacked her hands on top of her head and aimed her gaze at Gil’s Timberlands.
“What if I didn’t tell anyone? What if I used my own money to make up the difference? If I tell anyone they’ll all believe I took it, just like you.” She lifted her gaze. “But if I used my own money then Snoozy wouldn’t
be out the evening’s take and I wouldn’t be out of a job.”
Slowly Gil got to his feet. He looked as sick as she felt. “You want to cover this up?”
“I don’t have anywhere near enough money saved yet, but...how much do we have in the baby’s fund?”
He ran a hand through his hair and held it there as he turned and paced away. With a disbelieving grunt he let go and swung back.
“Please tell me you’re kidding. Please tell me you don’t want to take money away from your own baby—our baby—just to avoid telling Snoozy the truth.”
“What’s the alternative? I’d have to move to Erie to find another full-time position.” She held on tighter to her elbows to disguise the spasms in her fingers. “Of course I’ll replace every dollar.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“I can’t lose this job, Gil. I’ll pay it all back, I promise.”
He dropped his head and rubbed the back of his neck. When he looked up again, the revulsion on his face sent her stumbling back a step.
“Is that what you told the people you swindled?” he demanded.
“That’s not fair. I’m not swindling anyone.”
“No, you’re trying to hide a crime to save your ass, and isn’t that one of the reasons you ended up a felon?”
She shuddered as she stared at him, cold, bone-jarring spasms that wracked her from head to toe. She gripped the edges of the sink behind her and swallowed against the nausea surging into her throat.
“You’re right,” she whispered. “I just... I overreacted. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry.” She launched herself toward the desk. “I’ll call the sheriff now.”
“It’s too late, Kerry.”
She shook her head. “No. I’ll explain. Sheriff Suazo knows my history. He’ll understand why I waited.”
“I mean it’s too late for you and me.”
She froze, then turned slowly to face him. “I didn’t take the money. Why won’t you believe me?”
He tugged off his glasses and pressed the heel of his hand to his right eye. He heard the echo of his brother’s words. “I said I was clean. Why won’t you believe me?”
Gil opened his eyes, put his glasses back on and grabbed his jacket.
“Your dad was right,” he said. “You’re not interested in changing. Things don’t go the way you expect and your first instinct is to cover them up so you don’t have to deal. The thought of facing responsibility scares the hell out of you. What am I supposed to do with that?” His gaze hardened. “I can’t control the kinds of lessons you teach our kid, but I sure as hell don’t have to legitimize them. And that’s exactly what I’d be doing if I stayed with you.”
Her throat itched with the urge to bark a defense, but lashing out wouldn’t get her anywhere. “I made a mistake,” she said evenly. “I panicked.” Kind of like she was doing now. She swallowed hard. “I’ve worked so hard to prove I deserve another chance and suddenly it looked like I was going to lose all that. You can’t blame me for reacting the way I did.”
He shoved his arms into his jacket. “And if I weren’t here to talk you out of it?”
“I would have talked myself out of it.”
The slow shake of his head cut through her like one of Ruthie’s kitchen knives. “I wish I could believe you,” he said hoarsely.
“I wish you could, too.” Her stomach roiled. “Is this really about the missing money? Or is this about punishing me for getting pregnant? For making you give up your dream of becoming a teacher?”
His stunned expression shamed her. “I can’t believe you would think that.”
“Exactly how I feel.”
He started to speak, had to stop and clear his throat. “Whether or not you stay in Castle Creek, I need you to keep in touch. About the baby. I want to be involved.”
She responded with a jerky nod, and somehow pushed past her pride to whisper, “I thought you loved me.”
His jaw clenched as he zipped up his jacket with one abrupt motion. “I loved the new Kerry. The old Kerry isn’t someone I want to know.”
They’re both me, she wanted to shout. But he was already gone, the kitchen doors swinging gently in his wake.
* * *
KERRY SAT IN the passenger seat of her car, engine running, heat turned to full blast. Still, she was freezing. Arms wrapped around her knees, she rocked back and forth as her mind floundered, struggling to make sense of her situation.
She should be inside, where it was warm. Straightening the mess she’d made of Snoozy’s desk. Combing the first floor of the bar again for the missing cash.
Fixing herself a big-ass margarita.
Then again, she wouldn’t be able to drink it.
Once she’d finally accepted she wasn’t going to find the money, she’d wandered the bar feeling like she no longer belonged there. Like she was trespassing. She’d been having a hard time breathing, as if Mitzi had escaped her pen and decided to play ring around the rosy.
Now Kerry lurched forward and turned up the heat. Dropped her head to her knees and inhaled, fighting the urge to throw up.
Twelve hundred dollars, gone. Despite what she’d said to Gil, she couldn’t afford to replace it. Oh, if only she could. No one would think her careless or irresponsible. Or guilty. No one would have a reason to say, to Snoozy or to Gil, “I told you so.”
But Gil was right. She was reckless, and irresponsible, and had become much too intimate with denial.
With a damp, quivering sigh she sat up, retrieved her phone from her purse and dialed the sheriff’s department.
By the time she spotted the blue lights, she’d stopped shivering. The sight of the brown and gold cruiser with the big five-point star on the side should have started her up all over again, but she didn’t have the energy.
Slowly, Kerry pushed out of her car and moved over to the bar’s front entrance. She crossed her arms and waited, blinking against the glare of the headlights, regretting that her sweater didn’t provide better protection against the early morning chill.
Sheriff JD Suazo emerged from his cruiser and settled his hat on his head. He was lean, maybe half a dozen years older than she was, with olive skin, sharp, dark eyes and a face that could transform from dangerous to jovial with one twitch of the lips. His gaze flicked over her as he stepped up onto the sidewalk beside her, his hand resting on the weapon at his hip. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, teeth steadily chattering. “Just a little, um...” She choked on a sob. Good grief, chickie, pull yourself together. “I’m s-sorry.”
“Don’t be. You have a right to be upset.” He rocked back on his heels and his shoes creaked. “You’re having one hell of a week, aren’t you?”
The clicking of her teeth was louder than her “yes.”
He frowned. “There’s no need to talk out here in the cold. How about we take this inside?”
“I’d rather not.” His arrival had roused a very strong need for fresh air, the colder the better. How guilty would she look if she stepped inside the bar and promptly vomited?
His frown deepened. “Hold tight a minute.” He returned to the cruiser and grabbed something from the trunk. Seconds later he settled a wool blanket, smelling of motor oil and pine, over her shoulders.
“Now.” He added a little take-charge to his tone. “Why don’t you tell me what happened.”
It didn’t take long to explain how she’d discovered she was missing almost an entire day’s worth of cash profits. She followed that up with an extended explanation of why she wasn’t the one who’d taken the money.
Kerry knew she was implicating—and embarrassing—herself, but she couldn’t seem to stop. It was as if the sheriff was a stand-in for Gil.
The lawman offered an occasional nod, and made the occasional note in
a pad he’d pulled from his equipment belt, but he didn’t interrupt her. When she finally ran out of things to say, he closed his notebook and tucked it away.
“I’m going to need you to take me inside,” he said. “Walk me through what happened.”
She pushed away an overwhelming yearning for her bed. “Is there any reason we can’t open tomorrow?”
“I’m thinking that’s up to Snoozy.”
Oh. Right. Her stomach twisted.
“Somebody has to call him,” he continued. “Would you like me to do it?”
“No. No, I’ll do it.”
“Why’d you wait for me out here?”
The change in tone from mild to brusque caught her off-guard. She gathered the blanket more tightly around her.
“Guilt,” she admitted. “It felt worse to stand around in there. Because I didn’t keep a closer eye on things.”
Sheriff Suazo remained silent, but the angle of his head broadcasted his opinion of her answer.
The suspicion stung. Good thing she was used to it.
“Plus I’m still not thrilled about being alone with Mitzi,” she confessed.
He looked away, but not in time to hide the twitch of his lips. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or offended.
Then he looked back, and his lips had thinned again. “I’ll need to search your car. Your person as well. Our female dispatcher will pat you down at the station.”
Kerry swallowed a protest that wouldn’t do anyone any good. “I understand.”
“And I’ll need you to come in tomorrow and provide a statement. You’re not planning on taking any trips, are you?”
Her heart spiraled downward as she shook her head. Oh, God, she was in trouble here. The kind of trouble she’d vowed never to find herself in again.
“No, Sheriff,” she said, and winced at the shredded quality of her voice. “No plans to leave town.”
No plans at all, now that she’d dug herself an even deeper hole.
So deep she couldn’t detect one single glimmer of light.
* * *
THE RICH SMELL of beef and onion greeted Kerry as she opened the oven door and checked the meatloaf. Yep. Done. She pulled out the heavy loaf pan and set it on the stove. Meanwhile the potatoes started to burble. She tipped the lid so they wouldn’t boil over, and shut off the stove.