A Minute on the Lips

by Cheryl Harper

  “I will certainly get right on that, Deputy. That is a fabulous suggestion.”

  Dan waved as he walked out into the bright sunshine. Lori wiped the smudged mascara from underneath her eyes and wandered back to the dispatch desk. Jimmy shuffled the paperwork on his desk into a folder and handed it to Andi. “Let me know if I can give you any help with that investigation, boss.”

  She nodded and slid the folder under her arm as she headed for her office. “Sure thing. You guys might want to avoid the Country Kitchen for a bit. Jackie will make any visit miserable until I can get some information for him.”

  “Got it,” Jimmy said. “See you tomorrow.”

  Andi made a detour to the small kitchenette for a glass of ice-cold water. As she perched on the edge of her chair and did her best to ignore the squawk it made as she leaned back, Andi set the glass down and pulled out her notebook.

  She opened a new incident report and transcribed the few details she’d managed to pick up from her interrogation of the “suspects.” She also tried to brush aside the memory of Mark Taylor’s hand wrapped around hers.

  Her gut said this was an inside job. Someone with a key had waited until the diner was closed to take the money Jackie had on hand. Surely everything else was an afterthought. Why take trophies?

  Knowing Jackie and his suspicious nature, the list of people with keys would be short. Maybe only Jackie, in fact. Maybe his wife, Mona. Possibly Oscar. But the back window was unlocked, so all three of the people she’d interviewed had means and opportunity, as well. Maybe Jackie had accidentally left it that way. Maybe Oscar had opened it for himself or someone else. She didn’t figure Jackie drank his coffee out of a World’s Best Boss mug.

  As far as an action plan, she had only two options. First, Andi would have to ask Jackie what his list of enemies looked like. She’d need to take a much larger notebook on that day. And second, she needed to get her hair done. Luckily, it had been almost two months since her last visit, and she had an appointment already scheduled. She could take care of both tomorrow.

  * * *

  AFTER A BLISSFUL afternoon spent at her desk pushing paper around and detoxing from a caffeine high, Andi decided to relax at the Smokehouse—Tall Pines’s answer to finer dining. Jackie’s business was a breakfast, lunch and snack proposition except when the fall color hit. For the Fall Festival, he spruced up his dinner menu with chili any way and every way he could imagine it. Otherwise, the Smokehouse was the place to go for an evening meal.

  When she walked into the shadowy coolness of the restaurant, Andi sighed with relief. It was a bit early for dinner but that would be a good thing. She could avoid the mayor and enjoy her meal in peace and quiet.

  A steady flip-flop approached, and Andi turned and smiled at Sarah Wilson. The Wilsons had been her neighbors growing up. Sarah’s parents still lived in Tall Pines but Andi did her absolute best to avoid that neighborhood now. It was too painful.

  “Afternoon, Sheriff. Want your usual spot?” If she’d thought about it for a minute, it might have bothered Andi that she was so predictable. She had usual drinks, usual meals and usual spots. That constituted a rut.

  “That’d be great.” Andi followed her to the table, biting back the advice that wanted to tumble out regarding proper restaurant footwear. It wasn’t her place. And so what if flip-flop, flip-flop was annoying? If it didn’t bother Amanda in her own restaurant, then it shouldn’t bother Andi. Clearly, she needed to concentrate on what was important here: dessert.

  Andi decided to take the seat facing the kitchen, with her back toward the door. The place was deserted now but it was only a matter of time until someone came in, spotted her and tried to pump her for information on what had happened at Jackie’s. She had no illusions about the spread of the story. At this time of day, Andi could call somebody two counties away and get some distorted version of what had happened, what she said and where the body was hidden.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Sarah asked.

  “Sweet tea, please,” Andi responded, as always. Sarah flip-flopped her way to the kitchen to get Andi’s drink.

  Even though she’d be having her usual, Andi perused the menu because that was the right thing to do in restaurants. A small breeze stirred over her shoulder and, thinking it was Sarah returning with the tea, Andi looked up with a smile on her face.

  Mark Taylor smiled back. “Well, Sheriff, I have to say I didn’t expect such a warm welcome.” He pulled out the seat across from her and sat down before he rested both elbows on the table. “What are we having?”

  Andi snapped the menu closed and got ready to blast him. She did not want her dinner interrupted by Jackie’s case.

  Sarah intervened with a sweaty glass of iced tea. “Well, Mark, I didn’t know you were joining the sheriff. What can I get you to drink?”

  Andi opened her mouth to say that his drink should be delivered to another table, any other table, but she could tell with one quick look that Sarah would have trouble remembering anything she might say. Her large blue eyes were locked on Mark Taylor like he was the second coming of Tom Cruise right here in Tall Pines.

  He didn’t see her worshipping gaze. When Andi looked at Mark to give him the stunning glare of death, he was smiling back at her. “And that’s more like it.” He shot a glance up at beautiful young Sarah and said, “Make it tea.”

  She nodded distractedly. Andi wondered if Sarah heard his answer but then realized it didn’t matter. She would have his choice memorized.

  “Are y’all ready to order?” Sarah asked them both, but she was looking at Mark.

  Clearing her throat, Andi said loudly, “I’ll have the chef salad with vinaigrette on the side, Sarah.”

  Sarah nodded again but didn’t take out her notepad. She had probably already put in Andi’s usual order.

  “A salad? In a rib joint?” Mark looked at Andi. Both eyebrows were raised and his mouth hung open. He was clearly offended. He glanced up at Sarah. “Can she do that?”

  Sarah answered with a maniacal giggle. “Well, I guess so, Mark. She does it almost every time she comes in.”

  He shook his head as if he couldn’t quite believe it but he’d allow it anyway and handed over the menu. “I think I’ll have the special tonight, Sarah. And make sure it has the sweet sauce instead of the mild, okay?”

  She stacked the menus and put extra swish in her exit, glancing back over her shoulder to see if she had an audience. When she saw that Andi was the only one watching, she straightened her shoulders, slammed the menus back in the basket next to the phone and pushed through the swinging doors.

  “So, Sheriff, a salad? Here? In the home of the best ribs in the northeast part of the state?” His lips twitched as he pointed to the sign hanging over the front door that listed that exact honor. The Smokehouse had been voted number one in the newspaper’s annual poll.

  Andi nodded. “Yes, but you’ll wish you’d gone a different route when Sarah brings me a slice of cheesecake bigger than my head.”

  “Ah, I get it. You store up a few karmic calories so that you splurge on dessert.” Mark shrugged. “Whereas I live by the philosophy that there’s absolutely no reason I can’t have both if I want to.”

  Andi tapped her finger to her lip before she said, “You know, that doesn’t surprise me a bit.” She opened her napkin with a snap and spread it over her legs. “And if I lived by that philosophy, I’d definitely have to buy a bigger uniform.”

  “Sheriff, I’m beginning to think you don’t know me at all.” Mark made a show of glancing over her tan uniform. “But this uniform looks pretty good on you, so your philosophy must be working.”

  Andi couldn’t help it. She rolled her eyes.

  He laughed. “What? You don’t think my flattery is sincere?”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure anything about you is
sincere.” It was a good thing the restaurant went for mood lighting. If they’d been anywhere with lightbulbs stronger than forty watts, he’d be able to see how flustered he made her. Sarah brought out their drinks, a basket of rolls and pats of butter. She didn’t say a word but retreated to the front door to greet any new visitors that might come in.

  “Now, Sheriff. That sorta hurts my feelings.” Andi couldn’t see it in this lighting but he might have slapped on a halo before he answered. “I believe you have me pegged as some sort of city slicker out to pull the wool over your eyes for some nefarious reason.”

  Andi shook her head. “No. I have you pegged as some city clicker who’s out to pull the wool over my eyes because it keeps you entertained. And if you get a juicy story, too, so much the better. It sells papers.” She snorted. “Am I wrong? You did move here from the city. You do seem to take extreme pleasure in poking at me. And now you’re trying to convince me that you find my uniform attractive. And the truth is you could crook your finger and have any number of women lined up, so there’s no reason to tease me.”

  As he buttered a roll, he considered Andi’s answer. He took a big bite and offered the rest to her. She gave him a repressive frown but knew it was a waste of time.

  After a quick swig of tea, he said, “Yes, I moved here from the city but maybe that’s an example of my sound judgment. Did you ever figure that?” Without waiting for her answer, he added, “And I enjoy teasing you, that part’s true. If you could see your face, you’d have a hard time always doing the right thing, too.”

  He leaned forward. “And as far as that uniform goes, I never meant to say I found it attractive.” Andi shook her head and managed to meet his gaze. “I find you attractive. And that’s nothing but the truth.”

  He sat back with a satisfied smirk on his face. Andi needed a gulp of air but she didn’t want to appear undignified. To buy some time, she picked up her glass and managed to snort tea straight up her nose. As she coughed and sputtered, Mark calmly devoured his roll.

  After she wiped her face and managed to catch her breath, Andi croaked, “You can’t say things like that to me. Are you trying to kill me?”

  He laughed softly and shook his head.

  “Listen, I don’t know anything new about Jackie’s robbery yet. When I do, I’ll pass it along, okay? I promise. You don’t have to follow me around to eavesdrop.”

  “Okay. Glad to hear it.” He picked up another roll and an amazing glop of butter and introduced them.

  “Don’t you have someplace else to be?”

  He looked confused. “Uh, no. I’ve ordered dinner. It’ll be here momentarily...” He paused dramatically and Sarah’s flip-flops sounded from the kitchen as she entered the dining room with a tray on her shoulder.

  He leaned back to let Sarah place an overflowing plate of ribs right in front of him, with sides of slaw and potato salad. She set down Andi’s meal—iceberg lettuce with chopped vegetables and a few strips each of ham, turkey and grilled chicken—then reached back to get the dressing. When she’d cleared the tray, Sarah tonelessly said, “Enjoy.”

  As she watched him pick up the ribs and start eating, Andi scratched her forehead. “You’ve ruined her day, you know? You could pay her a little bit of attention.”

  He looked up quickly. His mouth had a small smear of barbecue sauce on it. Andi wanted barbecue sauce in that minute more than she’d ever wanted it. She glanced back down at her uninspiring plate of rabbit food.

  “Who? Sarah? I’m a pretty good tipper.”

  “No, she wants you to notice her.”

  He looked in the direction Sarah had disappeared and shrugged before he returned to the ribs. He muttered, “She’s just a baby,” before taking a big bite.

  Andi watched him chew for a minute and picked through her salad for the choicest, meatiest bits. “It must be nice to have all that attention.”

  He mumbled something like “from babies” but didn’t look up from his meal.

  Andi still wanted that barbecue sauce. “Wanda Blankenship’s no baby.”

  He glanced up before he hooted. Andi looked around the nearly empty dining room and tried to shh him, but the hoots turned to guffaws and he dropped his ribs back onto the plate. When he finally managed to get control of himself, he took a long drink of his tea, then leaned across the table. He looked left and right, then he whispered, “You’re jealous!” Andi shook her head furiously as he sat back and clapped his hands twice. “Jealous! I love it! And I’m honestly relieved, Sheriff. I mean, I managed to charm my way into most of this town’s good graces, but you...you’ve been a real challenge.”

  Andi tried to pretend she didn’t know him. She would have pretended not to know herself if she could figure out how. It was one thing for him to be right and a whole different thing for him to know he was right.

  Andi tried to act calm. She took measured bites of her tasteless yet perfectly suitable salad and sipped her inoffensive iced tea. When Sarah came over with a refill, Andi thanked her politely.

  And she waited.

  After his celebration ended, he picked up his ribs again and proceeded to demolish them. When he leaned back with a sigh, he said, “All right, Sheriff. Clearly you have the hots for me but you don’t trust me. I can understand that, as I am a newcomer in a town filled with people who sprang up here when the earth was formed.” He shook a finger at her. “What I don’t understand is why you won’t work with me. In my experience, there are two kinds of cops.”

  Andi sighed. “Oh, really.”

  He nodded. “There’s the grandstander, who considers publicity a perk and a duty. Most places, I find a few of those and I’m set. And then there’s the strong, silent type. Apparently you’re one of those, even though some publicity would help a woman running for reelection. I mean, it was one story, Sheriff. I quoted you directly. How did we go from that to ‘no comment’ on each and every question?” The look on his face said he was mystified and maybe a little...hurt? And that made her mad.

  She dropped her fork on her plate with a loud clatter, picked up her tea and tried to convince herself to let it go, just let this moment pass without telling him exactly what she thought. She didn’t need bad press now. But when she put the glass back down with a thump, he’d sat back in his chair and for the first time, he looked serious.

  So she took a deep breath. “Yeah, okay. Let’s think back to that story, why don’t we? Domestic violence. You asked for a solid definition, statistics and tips on what to look for and what to do.”

  “Yeah, and that’s what I put in the article. Word for word. Just the facts. None of that seems like a reason for the cold shoulder.”

  Andi shook her head. “Honestly, I can’t even... Don’t you know what that story did?”

  He tugged on his earlobe and considered the question. “Well, it reported on the problem of domestic violence in small communities and provided tips on how to help.” He frowned. “I’d expect you to be happy about that, Sheriff. I know it’s an issue you’re really interested in.” He tapped his finger on the table. “I called you because that was something you spoke about in your campaign. What’s the deal? Did you want more credit?”

  Andi realized her tense shoulders were creeping up and forced herself to relax. “What I would have liked was for you to report the story, the whole story, not pick and choose and make me look like some...”

  Mark glanced around to see if anyone was listening, and Andi realized she’d raised her voice. The kitchen was probably enjoying the show.

  “Like some what?” Mark asked. “I reported the facts, and they weren’t just for this town or this county. I had other sources, too.”

  Andi rubbed the crease between her brows. “What you did was pick and choose. You didn’t include my comments on how well the people in Tall Pines support their neighbors, how lucky we are to have a close
-knit community, how the incidents of abuse have been in a steady decline over the past five years, or how the previous sheriff contributed to that with his own programs. You didn’t even compare our statistics to rates in larger cities. So what you did report made it sound like we were this cute little town with a big problem, and that I was convinced I could ride to the rescue.” She picked up her fork and shuffled lettuce around on her plate. “And maybe I even believed the last part, but I would never have said it.”

  When Mark didn’t answer, Andi chanced a look up and saw that he’d braced both elbows on the table and covered his face with his hands. Telling him the rest was easier that way. “People stopped me in the street to tell me just what they thought of my point of view and my taking credit. I got a few threats. And I’ve been...wading through public opinion since, doing my best to protect the people who elected me even though they don’t think much of me.”

  His shoulders slumped. If she believed his face, he was surprised, miserable and maybe a little bit sick. “Sheriff, I had no idea. I just...I think I’ve spent so much time going after public figures that...” Mark wiped his mouth with his napkin. “How come no one in this town came after me, the new guy? You’re a native. Seems like they’d be ready to tar and feather me instead of you.”

  Andi sighed. “That’s a long story.”

  “One you sure don’t want to tell me because of how I’ll report it, right?” He shook his head. “I’m really sorry.”

  She almost believed him. Instead of charming or teasing, his face was dead serious, the smile absent. “I just wish more journalists—” she shook her head “—no, more people, would stop to consider that there’s a lot more to truth than just the facts.”

  He leaned forward again. “More to truth...” He looked like he wanted to understand but had no idea what she meant.