Enticing Emily

by Gina Wilkins

  “He thanked me very nicely,” Emily answered for the child, who nodded in agreement.

  Clay tugged at his father’s hand. “I’m hungry, Daddy.”

  “Of course you are. You’re awake, aren’t you?”

  Clay rolled his eyes as if he’d heard that response many times before. “Can we get something to eat?”

  “Sure. Let’s go check out the food stands. There are some pretty good smells coming from that direction.”

  Clay agreed, then gave Emily another of his endearingly shy smiles. “Will you come with us, Miss Emily?”

  “Yes, please do, Miss Emily,” Wade seconded, a teasing glint in his brown eyes.

  “Thank you, but I’d better not. I’m judging a baking contest in a few minutes and I don’t want to be too full to enjoy it.”

  Clay looked disappointed, but Wade only nodded. “Then we’ll be seeing you around.”

  He and his son both thanked her again, which was becoming rather embarrassing since she’d enjoyed the ride almost as much as Clay had. And then Wade and Clay headed toward the food stands. Clay looked over his shoulder to wave at Emily. Wade didn’t look back.

  With a somewhat wistful sigh, Emily turned away, only to be immediately hailed by someone she knew. And she braced herself for the inevitable questions about why she had looked so cozy with the police chief and his son.

  A FIGHT BEGAN when April Penny’s chewy-chocolate-cherry brownies lost out to Earlene Smithee’s peaches-and-cream trifle in the baking contest.

  Emily wasn’t certain exactly what happened. One moment she was announcing the winner, and holding up the blue ribbon to be awarded to Mrs. Smithee. The next, she was standing beside the table of baked goods with peaches-and-cream trifle spattered on the front of her dress while April Penny and Earlene Smithee tried to claw each other’s eyes out.

  Emily hadn’t realized that Wade Davenport was nearby until he came forward to break up the fracas.

  “Okay, ladies, let’s cool down a bit,” he said, trying to step between the brawling matrons.

  He got hit in the cheek with a handful of chewy-chocolate-and-cherry brownies.

  “She rigged the contest!” April Penny shouted, pointing at her opponent with a chocolate-stained hand. “She always makes sure she wins.”

  “You just can’t admit you lost—again!” Earlene retorted, her flushed face dotted with peaches.

  April launched herself at her rival. Wade caught her neatly in one arm, preventing her from reaching her intended target.

  “April, the contest was not rigged,” Emily said, trying to be heard over the scandalized chattering around them. “It couldn’t be. We had no idea who’d baked what until we opened the envelopes after the judging was finished.”

  The two other judges, a tiny, gray-haired schoolteacher and a nervous-looking town councilman who’d been standing well back from the flying food and fists, both nodded fervently.

  April sniffed, giving Emily a cold look. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you had something to do with this. A McBride would do just about anything to keep me from winning.”

  Swiping ineffectively at the mess on the front of her dress, Emily shook her head, trying very hard to hold on to her temper. She reminded herself that she was in a public place. That she detested ugly scenes. And that she had no intention of sinking to April’s usual level. “You’re wrong, April,” she said evenly. “Earlene won fairly.”

  April had always had a reputation for losing all discretion when in a temper, but her eyes were wilder than Emily had ever seen them when she snarled, “I suppose you expect me to take the word of a McBride. Cheating is just another talent of your whoring, murdering clan. And, according to Sam Jennings, you fit right in with the rest of them. Found any extra thousands lying around lately, Emily?”

  A gasp came from the crowd of scandalized onlookers. Emily didn’t have enough breath even to gasp. April’s vicious verbal attack had knocked it right out of her. No one had ever spoken to her that way in public before! Or in private, for that matter. A red haze of anger clouded her vision and she moved instinctively forward. She didn’t have to take this, she thought, her entire body quivering with rage.

  Someone caught her arm. “Emily,” her Aunt Bobbie murmured warningly. “Take a deep breath, dear.”

  It took several deep breaths, and a few more soothing words from her sympathetic aunt before Emily could regain control of herself. With one last, scathing look at April, she deliberately turned her back on the other woman. “Thank you, Aunt Bobbie. I’m fine now.”

  Muttering beneath her breath, April shook off Wade’s restraining hand. “I’m getting out of here.”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” Wade agreed, his voice cooler than Emily had heard it before.

  April turned on one too-high sandal heel and stalked away, her rounded hips swaying markedly in her too-tight denim shorts.

  “That woman,” Earlene sniffed, tossing her bleached-blond head. “She’s hated me ever since I beat her in the Miss Honoria pageant twenty years ago. You’d think she’d get over it, but no. She’s still trying to outdo me.”

  She walked away, surrounded by friends and sympathizers.

  “Well, our ungracious loser didn’t sound overly fond of you, either,” Wade murmured to Emily, moving to where she stood with her aunt.

  “April’s maiden name was Hankins,” Emily explained, her voice still a bit higher pitched than usual. “There’s a rather unpleasant history between the Hankins and the McBrides.”

  Wade chuckled wryly. “Are the McBrides involved in any other feuds I should know about?”

  “Probably,” Emily replied, unable to find any humor in the situation. “But I can’t think of them at the moment.”

  Bobbie McBride shook her head as she took in the mess around them. “I can’t believe the way April acted. She should be ashamed of herself.”

  “It’s not the first time April has shown her butt in public,” an older woman muttered, overhearing. “Remember that New Year’s Eve she thought her husband was flirting with Melba Sands? Fur was sure flying that night.”

  Several other townspeople gathered around Bobbie to exchange avid gossip about April’s shenanigans. Wrinkling her nose in distaste, Emily moved away from the group. Wade followed.

  “Where’s Clay?” she asked, relieved that the child hadn’t been exposed to the ugly scene.

  “He found one of his buddies from school. The other boy’s mother took them to watch the magic show at the pavilion. I thought I’d wander around and soak up some of the local atmosphere. I guess I got a little more than I’d bargained for,” he added, wiping chocolate-brownie crumbs off his face.

  Emily finally managed a smile. “You look like you’ve been to the face-painting booth,” she remarked, pulling a clean tissue out of her purse and dabbing at the smear of chocolate still decorating Wade’s cheek. “I’m not sure what this is supposed to represent, though. It’s definitely not a goldfish.”

  Wade stood very still beneath her ministrations. Emily suddenly became aware of her actions.

  What was she doing? Without even stopping to think, she’d started wiping Wade’s face as if he were no older than his son. She was standing only inches away from him, and it probably looked as if she was all but throwing herself in his arms.

  Hastily, she stepped back. “That’s—um, that’s better.”

  “Thank you.” Something in his eyes, and in the husky edge to his voice, made her face warm.

  “I’d better be going,” she said, stuffing the chocolate-stained tissue back into her purse and avoiding Wade’s eyes. She glanced nervously at her foodstained dress. “I want to get out of these clothes.”

  And then she almost groaned as she realized what she’d said. She had a lamentable tendency to babble idiotically when she was nervous—as she’d just proven.

  Wade’s grin had a hint of devilry beneath it, though his voice was exaggeratedly innocent when he said, “Sounds like a good idea to me.�
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  She told herself the double entendre was only in her own mind. But she couldn’t really convince herself this time. She wasn’t too naive to know when she was being flirted with—and Chief Wade Davenport had been subtly flirting with her all day.

  Muttering something that was probably incomprehensible, she turned and headed rapidly toward the parking lot. Several acquaintances tried to delay her along the way, many wanting juicy details about the baking-contest squabble, but she evaded them skillfully, claiming weariness and her mussed dress as excuses.

  “But, Emily, I wanted you to help me with the...”

  Emily didn’t slow down long enough to find out what one of her neighbors wanted her to do now. Whatever it was, this time she wouldn’t do it.

  Starting today, the citizens of Honoria were going to have to ask someone else to do their favors.

  TUESDAY MORNING’S newspaper contained some disturbing information for the residents of crime-free Honoria. Three homes had been broken into the day before, while the owners were attending the annual fall festival at the park. The burglars had been swift and efficient, taking TVs, VCRs, jewelry, cash and other valuables and leaving no clues.

  Police Chief Davenport, when contacted late Monday evening, just before the paper went to press, had informed the reporter that the break-ins would be thoroughly investigated and home-security patrols would be increased. “We will not tolerate this criminal behavior in our jurisdiction,” he assured the residents of his new hometown.

  Emily sighed and clucked her tongue. “What is this world coming to?” she asked Oliver, who sat at her feet begging for a piece of toast. “A law-abiding citizen can’t feel safe in his own home these days.”

  And then she laughed, realizing she had just sounded exactly like her late grandmother.

  Still, she was very careful to check the locks on all her doors when she left for work that morning.

  4

  EMILY WORRIED about going to work Monday morning. If Sam Jennings had been spreading his accusations around, as April had implied, Emily’s co-workers might treat her differently, knowing she was a suspect in an embezzlement case. But if they’d heard, they gave no indication, though several wanted to question and tease her about the debacle at the baking contest.

  They also wanted to ask her about her plans for the future, now that word had gotten out that she was selling her house. Emily answered their questions in vague terms, since she hadn’t yet given notice that she would be leaving her job at the end of the year. And, whether her co-workers were aware of it or not, the investigation was still hanging over her head, along with her knowledge that she wouldn’t be able to leave Honoria until it was settled.

  The man who’d given her orders to stay in town called her at work that afternoon.

  “What can I do for you, Chief Davenport?” she asked, keeping her voice low for privacy.

  “There are a few more questions I’d like to ask you,” he replied. “Do you have any free time after work this afternoon? Maybe we could talk over dinner.”

  Her pulse jumped. Dinner? Was he asking for an interview, or a date? She didn’t know what made her more nervous.

  “I’m afraid I can’t meet you for dinner this evening,” she said, keeping her tone light. “I have a meeting right after work. We’ll be having finger sandwiches there.”

  “Maybe we could get together after your meeting. For coffee and dessert? You could answer my questions then.”

  Emily chewed her lower lip as she thought about it for a moment. And then she nodded. Might as well get this behind her. The sooner this case was cleared up, the sooner she would be free. “All right. Where?”

  “Er—” He hesitated a moment, then said, “There’s a sandwich and pie place just down the street from the police department. On Maple?”

  “Yes, I know it.” It wouldn’t have been her first choice, but they were meeting to talk, not to eat, she reminded herself.

  “What time can you be there?”

  “Eight-thirty?”

  “Fine. I’ll see you then.”

  It wasn’t a date, Emily reminded herself as she hung up the phone. Just an informal interview. So there was absolutely no reason for her to be looking forward to it with such anticipation.

  WADE AND EMILY pulled up to the sandwich shop at almost the same moment. Climbing out of his Jeep, Wade nodded in greeting when Emily slipped out of her car.

  “Evening, Ms. McBride,” he said, trying to mask the full extent of his pleasure at seeing her again. Even after a day of work and her dub meeting, she looked fresh and pretty in a royal blue pantsuit with a crisp white collar.

  Though she looked as though she should be dining at an elegant restaurant rather than this second-rate sandwich shop, he thought, looking uncomfortably at the rather shabby facade. Maybe this place hadn’t been such a great choice.

  “Good evening, Chief Davenport.” She waited for him to the join her at the entrance.

  Wade reached around her to open the door, and caught a whiff of the faint floral scent he already associated with her. “How was your meeting?” he asked as they entered the restaurant together.

  “Just routine.” She looked around the empty dining room, and Wade followed her glance. The tables were clean, though the floor could have used some work. A television set, bolted high on the wall in the back corner of the room, was still turned on, though no one was there to watch.

  “I wonder if they’re about to close,” Emily murmured, indicating the empty tables.

  Wade moved toward the order counter, which was unoccupied. The cash register sat at one end, apparently unguarded. Security was obviously not a priority for this business, he thought with a slight frown of disapproval. “Hello?”

  In response to Wade’s call, a skinny adolescent boy with shaggy, oily hair and an apparently permanent scowl wandered out from the kitchen. He stepped behind the order counter. “What’ll y’all have?”

  “We weren’t sure you were still open,” Wade said.

  The teenager turned and yelled into the back. “What time are we closing tonight?”

  “Nine o’clock. Same as every weeknight,” an exasperated voice hollered back.

  Wade glanced at Emily, noting that she was fighting a smile. “That should give us time for a quick bite. What would you like?”

  She glanced at the menu displayed above the boy’s head. “Pecan pie and coffee sounds good to me.”

  The boy scratched his chin, then turned again toward the door to the kitchen. “Hey, June? We got any coffee?” he bellowed.

  “Billy Ray, you know the coffeemaker’s been broken for a week,” the unseen woman in the kitchen shouted irritably.

  Billy Ray swiveled back to look glumly at Emily. “Ain’t got no coffee.”

  Emily cleared her throat. “Then I’ll just have an iced tea.”

  Nodding, Billy Ray turned to Wade. “What about you?”

  “Ham and cheese on wheat.”

  “Lettuce and tomato?”

  “Yes.”

  “Onion?”

  Wade glanced at Emily. “No.”

  “Want something to drink with that?”

  Wade was half tempted to ask for coffee, just to see if Billy Ray would remember that the coffeemaker was broken. Resisting the mischievous impulse, he said only, “Cola, please.”

  Billy Ray set their drinks on the counter, then nodded toward the empty dining room. “Sit down somewhere. I’ll bring the food out when it’s ready.”

  Inwardly groaning, Wade followed Emily to one of the dozen empty tables.

  “A few of that boy’s spark plugs aren’t firing, I’m afraid,” he murmured as they took their seats, using the noise of a deodorant commercial blaring from the television to mask his less-than-generous comment.

  Emily giggled. “I’m afraid you’re right. How do you suppose he knows when to go home if he doesn’t know what time they close?”

  “I guess whoever that is in the back just tells him to leave.�
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  A loud screech from the television set caused both of them to look up—only to see a large, ugly insect engaged in battle with something even larger and uglier. An announcer’s officious voice described the battle in gruesome detail, adding that the winner would feed the corpse of the loser to its offspring.

  Emily’s giggle turned into a laugh. “It’s the nature channel. Oh, how appetizing.”

  The losing insect gave a dying squeal just as Billy Ray delivered the food to their table.

  “Would you—um—mind turning the TV to another channel?” Wade asked, wondering if Billy Ray would have to yell for permission to do so.

  But Billy Ray only shrugged and nodded. “Sure. We got cable.”

  He reached up, flipped the channel selector and walked away without waiting to see what he’d tuned in to.

  Wade bit into his sandwich just as a hideous, slimy creature slashed a horrified space explorer’s throat on the television screen. The poor guy gave a gurgling scream that echoed eerily in the nearly empty restaurant.

  “I, um, think it’s one of the Alien movies,” Emily murmured when Wade choked on his sandwich.

  Wade swallowed and then gave in to a chuckle as he pointedly turned his back to the television. “A real classy place I’ve brought you to, isn’t it?”

  Emily looked quickly down at her pie. “You said you have some questions to ask me, Chief Davenport?”

  Wade almost winced. Emily had made it quite clear that she considered this nothing more than a business meeting, informal though it might be.

  He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out five slips of yellow paper. “Could you look at these for a moment, please?” he asked, keeping his tone neutral as he slid the papers across the table.

  Emily picked them up, glanced at them for a moment, then fanned them on the table in front of her. “I initialed these two,” she said, pointing with one pink-tipped finger. “Someone else wrote my initials on these three.”

  Wade nodded and slipped the papers back into his pocket. “Thanks.”