by Nancy Naigle
George grunted as he repositioned the box to get a better grip. “Oh, there’s four times this amount in the online log.”
Mike’s eyebrow shot up. “Really.”
“He’s exaggerating.” Savannah dug a few dollars from her pocket and hurried George out the door before he helped her any more. She scrunched a GINN tote bag into a ball and shoved it into his stomach. Maybe Mike hadn’t noticed the logo.
With George on his way, she turned back to Mike Hartman. He didn’t look like he was ready to go anywhere. If Evelyn knew that George had practically blown the secret of who Van was, she’d fire him on the spot. Savannah sure didn’t want that to happen. Not only for George’s sake, but because she really didn’t want it to be known that she was the snarky one behind all those letters. If George got fired he might not keep that secret. That could be a real career-limiting move.
Mike cleared his throat. “You going to give me any details?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Nothing to share.”
A woof came from down the hall.
“You have a dog?”
“Yeah. I do.” He smiled. “For research.”
“Real funny.”
“Makes about as much sense as your story.”
They stood there, neither willing to budge. “I really have to get to work,” she said.
He turned and started for the door, then turned back. “Don’t get a paper cut.”
“I’ll be careful.”
She closed the door, thankful that he was gone but quite certain she hadn’t seen the last of him. If he was any kind of PI he’d probably have her figured out soon enough. She’d better get on his good side . . . and quick.
The next morning, Savannah stood outside the sheriff’s office, waiting. It wasn’t exactly how she’d planned to spend her morning. She’d thought it wouldn’t take but a few minutes talking to Jack down at the paper to resolve her questions about the incidents on the police log. Unfortunately, he didn’t have any answers and told her to deal directly with Scott on them.
Reluctantly, she’d headed down to the sheriff’s office. That “staying behind the scenes and out of the sheriff’s way” plan hadn’t lasted long.
She’d already been standing here outside his office for the better part of ten minutes waiting too, and it wasn’t easy to not eavesdrop, no matter how many times her mother had tried to drill into her head that eavesdropping was rude.
So he’d been a little grumpy Saturday; he really hadn’t done anything wrong. Maybe she was just overreacting. Or holding a grudge. Wouldn’t be the first time she was accused of that.
People seemed to really like Scott. Carolanne and Jill sure thought he was a nice guy. So maybe deep down it was her, not him. Maybe her impression had more to do with her past with small-town cops than it had to do with him. Maybe she hadn’t given him a fair shake.
She was prepared to give him a fresh shot at a first impression—in the attitude department anyway, because from a looks perspective, he sure didn’t need a makeover.
Her gut still wrenched just a little when she thought about how information in the hands of a small-town cop could suddenly become public, though. The police blotter she held in her hand proved that too. Small towns were like self-appointed judge and jury, or the blasted gospel. There didn’t seem to be a formula for who was protected and who was going to be the talk of the town at any given time.
She leaned against the wall, shifting her weight to her other leg and trying not to be so obvious about listening in. He’d been on the phone for as long as she’d been standing there, and he must have been able to see her in the hallway, but he hadn’t acknowledged her.
He was young for a sheriff, not an old crony like Sheriff Pittman had been back home—back then, when her life had gone off the rails. He’d probably retired by now.
She and Scott had to be about the same age. She noticed the white bakery bag on his desk. If he ate those sweets every day, he must work out pretty faithfully, because there sure didn’t appear to be any excess weight on him.
A lanky uniformed man nodded her way as he gave a quick double knock on the sheriff’s open door and dropped off a stack of folders on his desk. As he walked out, he stopped and asked, “Can I help you with something?”
For a fleeting moment she considered avoiding the sheriff and getting this guy to answer her questions, but then Jack had been pretty clear about talking directly to Scott.
“No. I’m waiting for him.” She pointed to the sheriff’s office.
“Okay. I’m Deputy Taylor. If he takes too long, I’ll be right down the hall. Just come get me. I’ll be happy to try to help you.”
“Thanks. I’m good.” She turned her attention back to the deep voice coming from the office.
He’d been trying to get off that call for a good five minutes.
He said, “Thank you for the recognition. I really appreciate the award, but I was just doing my job.”
Probably for top speeding-ticket-giver in the whole South, if she had to guess.
“I’m just not sure my schedule will allow me to attend.” After a short pause, he answered. “Yes, yes. No. Mike Hartman has already declined. Yes. I’ll keep that in mind. Right. Thursday night. Seven o’clock. Got it. Yes, thank you very much.”
She heard the call end and him sigh.
She counted to three and poked her head around the corner.
“Excuse me.” She gave another courtesy knock on the door. “You got a minute?”
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Scott motioned her into his office. “Why didn’t you tell me you were filling in over at the paper when we talked Saturday?”
“Jack called you?”
“Yeah. He told me he was sending you over. You didn’t mention—”
“I didn’t know, then. I rented Connor Buckham’s apartment. He asked if I could do them the favor over at the paper. Seemed like the right thing to do. Here I am.”
“Nice of you. Have you ever done anything like that before?”
“Like what? Write an article?” It sure wasn’t rocket science. A fourth grader could probably do this gig if the sheriff’s folks could write a decently clear summary. “Yeah. I’ve got some experience.”
“That what you do up in DC?”
She was definitely not going there. A change in subject was in order . . . right about now. “Was that a sneer? What do you have against DC?”
“Nothing. I could have guessed you were from a city without even looking at your driver’s license.”
“Oh, really?”
“All the beautiful ladies I meet are city girls.”
She smiled. “You think I’m beautiful? Is that why you didn’t give me a speeding ticket?”
“Hardly.”
Even when he was giving her a hard time he had a way of making her feel special in a weird sort of way. “How often do you let someone out of a ticket?”
“Never.”
“Not never. You let me off.”
“You were the exception. You caught me in a good mood. Parade day and all.”
That parade had made for a good day for her too. “What is it with small towns and parades?”
“You got something against them?”
“No. Not really, but you actually closed down the streets. No one could even come into town and get gas. Didn’t it occur to you that it would hurt the revenue stream?”
“The revenue stream was just fine. Everyone in town was right here, and money was spent while they were here. People from neighboring towns come to the parades to see their friends in them too. It works.”
“Seems like overkill to me.”
“It’s a safety matter.”
“Protect and serve and all that, I guess.”
“Yep. Maybe you should try slowing down and just enjoying things for
a change. Ya know . . . instead of speculating.”
“You do have one heckuva parade wave. Guess you’ve done your share.”
“I’ve done a few. It’s fun. You should try it.”
“Waving?”
“Having fun.”
Ouch. She could be convinced to give it a try with him, though. “Well, I plan to slow down and have a little of that while I’m visiting your quaint town, but right this minute I need some clarification on this police blotter. The first being, why don’t you automate this stuff? It was like a handwriting analysis class.” She shoved the stack of papers toward him.
“We have all that online. It’s just that Jack’s sister isn’t very computer savvy, so she likes it done the way she’s always done it. We jot down the paper copies just for her.”
“Tell me you’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
She’d typed all those suckers in for nothing. “Can I get the files e-mailed while I’m helping out?”
“Absolutely.”
“Cool. Well, that will probably answer several of the questions where I just wasn’t even sure what the notes said. There are a couple that read kind of strange, though.”
“Shoot.”
“Here’s the first one.” She moved to his side of the desk and placed the paper in front of him as she read it aloud. “‘June sixth, 1:34 p.m. Some louse made unauthorized charges on a woman’s credit card, causing a loss of three hundred and ninety-nine dollars.’”
She laughed. So did he. He had a nice laugh. “You don’t really want me to print it in the paper that way, do you? You’ll have a slander lawsuit for sure.”
Scott said, “Well, actually, I do want it printed that way. That wording was intentional. You see, we know who the louse was. It was her ex-husband, only we can’t prove it. But one thing we know about him is that he will hightail it up here when this hits the paper to file a complaint on his wife for calling him a louse. We’ll be able to close that issue out.”
“That’s sneaky.”
“It’s not my first rodeo.”
“I hear ya. Okay, well here’s another one.” She flipped to the next page. “How about this one? ‘June seventh, 8:42 p.m. A resident of Purdy Manor wants to complain to a neighbor about his barking dog, but the neighbor is never at home.’” She laughed. “What? She can’t leave him a note or something?”
“You’re right. Let me help you with that one. I’d like you to add his address.”
“The whole address?”
“Yep. That should pretty much take care of that little issue too.”
“Sheriff Calvin, are you telling me that you use this police blotter to manipulate people?” Evelyn Biggens would have met her match with this guy—he did all this without even leaving his desk.
“It’s Scott to you, and I wouldn’t call it manipulating. I like to think of it more as helping gently persuade people to do the right thing.”
“I see. Well, I bet this one will take some explaining. I didn’t even type this one in. See?”
Scott read it out loud. “‘12:16 a.m. Some adults were being overly noisy in a hot tub frolic.’” He gave her a sideways glance. “Just what is it you want to know about this one?”
“Some adults? Frolicking?”
“I really can’t share those details.”
“Now you get a conscience? Okay, fine. So that’s accurate.”
“Print it as is.” He drummed his hands on his desk. “Next?”
“Just one more.” She scanned her notes. “Here it is. It’s the one about a drunk spreading rumors about a message in some painting down at the yoga studio.”
Scott shook his head. “Scratch that one.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want to stir people up with rumors. That was a misunderstanding.”
“Do you want me to just rephrase—”
His smile had faded, and so had the joking tone. “Nope. Scratch it entirely.”
“Okay, fine. I won’t include that one.”
“Good.”
There was that cranky mood again. “Well, it appears I wasted your precious time. I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t be.” He smiled and that dark cloud was gone as quickly as it had arrived. “I’m glad you came by.” He pushed his chair back and stood next to her.
“Thanks for helping me get all the details right.”
“Thank you for helping out with the police blotter. You stop by or call me anytime.”
There was an awkward pause. He cleared his throat. “I mean, I’d rather be sure it’s right. Don’t go filling in the blanks on your own. Trust me, it’s never going to be predictable.”
“I’m beginning to see that.” She started to leave, but that nosy side of her wouldn’t let her leave well enough alone. “By the way, I heard you talking on the phone before I came in. You’re getting some kind of an award?”
“Yep.”
“You’re not going?”
“No. I’m not a rubbery-chicken-eating, gripping-and-grinning kind of a guy. Besides, it’s up north in your neck of the woods.”
“It’s not such a bad place.”
“Lots of traffic. Been there, done that. I don’t need a plaque for doing my job.”
“I could show you around. What’s the award for?” Perfect attendance? I could see skipping that.
“Does it matter?”
“I’m curious.”
“We had a case here not too long ago that struck a lot of nerves. They don’t usually pay attention to anything we’re doing down here.”
“And?”
“They’re honoring me and your neighbor, Mike Hartman, at a dinner up in Arlington. It’s not just us. It’s a whole night of recognition for various people in our field. Somehow our case got someone’s attention up there for this year. Mike’s already begged off. One of us has to go, and he left me with the short straw.”
“Well, that ought to be front-page news in this town.”
“I don’t care about that stuff.”
“You should. Folks around here will be thrilled that you got that kind of recognition. It’s good for the town too. Hey, they might even throw you a parade if you play your cards right.” His look told her he hadn’t appreciated her little jab, so she quickly changed gears. “I’ll let Jack down at the paper know about it. I’m sure he’ll want to cover the event, or at least interview you for the details.”
Scott handed her an invitation on high-quality vellum.
“Embossed. Nice.” She scanned the details. “This is a big deal. You have to go. It would probably be good for your career too.”
A line slashed across his forehead. “It is an election year.”
“I wasn’t thinking about the sheriff being a voted position. This could be a very big deal for you in an election year.” She reread the invitation and committed the details to memory. That was always one of her strong suits. Served her well in the card games with the guys over the years too.
She handed the invitation back to Scott.
“Yeah, well, unless you’re throwing me a parade, don’t bother telling Jack. That kind of attention makes me uncomfortable.”
“Well, then you better buckle up, Mr. Calvin.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Savannah had already spent the better part of the morning on the Internet googling and making calls to get more details about the event that Scott had been invited to. Her curiosity always got the best of her. It was none of her business, but she just couldn’t quit digging.
Normally, that kind of research would have only taken a few minutes, but the Internet speed in this town left something to be desired. Plus, this wasn’t some little award ceremony. One link had led to another and another. It was going to be quite a shindig. The list of attendees was impressive too. Hmm.
&
nbsp; Savannah: You sending anyone to cover the Gold Meritorious Safety Award presentation in Arlington?
Evelyn: Yes. Why?
Savannah: Sheriff here being recognized.
Evelyn: Name?
Savannah: Scott Calvin.
Savannah had no sooner typed out the name than her phone rang. She answered, but before she could even say hello, Evelyn was talking.
“Same guy in your article, Scott Calvin? Are you kidding me? Now I know why Adams Grove sounded so familiar. That’s the small-town sheriff that killed that Frank Goto. The Goto Hell murderer.”
The room seemed to swirl around her. She hadn’t really thought of the sheriff as anything but a paper pusher who gave out some speeding tickets and a face for the county. Her mouth went dry. “I remember that story.”
“It was hellish. No pun intended,” Evelyn said. “You should write a series of stories on him!”
She shook her head. Not that Evelyn could see her, or that she’d pay attention if she could. Evelyn was like that. When it was her idea, she thought it was a good idea and she never changed her mind.
“It’s perfect. Those small-town stories can feed right into a series on that sheriff. We’d get a nice juxtaposition of small towns and big stories.”
“One thing at a time, Evelyn.” No one else had the nerve to tell Evelyn to chill out, but their friendship had been filter-free from day one.
“Fine.”
But Savannah knew that Evelyn was thinking she’d get her way eventually, and she usually did. Even with Savannah. “I better get to work before you make this a two-year assignment too.”
Evelyn’s laugh bubbled across the line. “Get to work.”
Savannah laid her phone aside and sat back in the chair, digesting the new information about Scott.
The County Gazette might be a small paper, but Jack needed to know that Scott was being recognized for his heroism and get the hometown angle. She pulled all her notes together to take them over to him, but first things first. She’d spent way too much time messing around on her computer. She had just enough time to jump in the shower and get dressed so she could be at Daphne’s house for tea by one.