Ask Anyone

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Ask Anyone Page 9

by Sherryl Woods

Satisfied that he hadn’t been mistaken when he picked Walker out for Daisy, King nodded. “Tucker says Walker’s the best man in the department. Is Walker satisfied with the work? Must seem awfully quiet for a man used to investigating homicides in Washington.”

  Daisy pulled out a chair and sat down opposite him, her expression thoughtful. “I was worried about the same thing, but Walker says he’s content.” A spark lit her eyes. “His boys are coming to visit this weekend.”

  Those two sons of Walker’s were fine boys. They’d stayed out at Cedar Hill with King when their mama had brought them up for the wedding. “So you’ll have a house crowded with kids. You ready for that?”

  “I can’t wait,” Daisy said at once.

  King smiled at her eagerness. His daughter was a born nurturer. She’d pieced this family of hers together despite all the odds against it. When she’d found Tommy hiding in her garage, scared and trying his darnedest to hot-wire her car, she’d seen the boy as the answer to her prayers. King hadn’t understood it at the time, but he could see now that Daisy had always known her own heart better than anyone. And the truth was, much as he wanted to claim some credit for her contentment, she was the one who’d first seen Walker’s potential. King had been skeptical about a man from a big, crime-ridden city like Washington settling for the quiet life of Trinity Harbor.

  “You know how happy I am for you, don’t you?” he said gruffly.

  “I do,” she said, squeezing his hand. Then she grinned. “And now you want to make Bobby just as happy, don’t you?”

  “Well, of course, I do,” King grumbled. “Don’t you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He eyed her intently. “So, what do you think of this Jenna? Will she do?”

  “Bobby hasn’t let me spend more than a minute alone with her to find out,” she said with evident exasperation. “And, trust me, when she comes by here for Darcy, he’s going to be right beside her, trying to foil my plans to get to know her.”

  King grinned at her. “You willing to work with me a bit?”

  Daisy chuckled, but she didn’t immediately turn him down out of loyalty to her brother. “How?”

  “Divide and conquer, that’s the ticket. You take Bobby. I’ll take Jenna.”

  “Why can’t I take Jenna?” Daisy protested.

  “Because I’m your father, and if there’s any cross-examining to be done around here today, I’m the one who gets to do it.” He winked at her. “I will share whatever I find out.”

  Daisy held out her hand. “Deal.”

  King laughed. “No question you’re a daughter after my own heart,” he said proudly.

  “I’m not sure Bobby’s going to consider my inheritance of the meddling gene a valued attribute,” she warned.

  King shrugged that off. “Who cares what he thinks? If that boy had found himself a good woman a long time ago, we wouldn’t have to get involved.”

  “He thought he had,” Daisy reminded King, her expression suddenly serious. “Ann-Marie hurt him. I’m not sure he’ll ever get past that.”

  “She wasn’t good enough to wipe the dust from my boy’s shoes,” King said fiercely. “Her actions proved that.”

  “They surely did,” Daisy agreed. “Now, hush. I think I hear a car. I’ll go outside and stall Bobby and send Jenna in here to pour the tea. You’ll have maybe ten minutes before Bobby gets suspicious. Think you can accomplish anything in that length of time?”

  “Can a hound dog hunt?”

  Daisy leaned down and kissed him. “There is nobody on earth like you, King Spencer. Nobody.” Her grin spread. “Thank the Lord.”

  The tour of the riverfront had left Jenna more enthusiastic than ever about this project. She’d seen the perfect spot for the carousel in a grove of trees. There was also a sloping hill that would be perfect for lawn seating for outdoor concerts if a bandstand were situated just right to catch the evening breezes off the Potomac. Her mind was literally bursting with ideas she hadn’t been able to put on paper. Bobby’s wary reaction when she’d reached for the notebook in her purse had made her put off taking notes.

  When Daisy had suggested Jenna come inside to fix iced tea for all of them, she’d been eager to comply. It would give her a minute alone to jot down some of her thoughts before going back outside to join the others. She hadn’t counted on finding an older man sitting at the kitchen table, the pitcher of tea in front of him and two glasses already poured.

  “You must be Jenna,” he said at once, gesturing toward a seat. “Join me for a minute. I’m King Spencer.”

  “Bobby’s father?” she guessed.

  “Yes, indeed.” He seared her with a piercing look. “He’s a fine young man, don’t you think?”

  Jenna wasn’t about to report to his father that she considered Bobby to be a little too full of himself, as well as annoyingly stubborn. “I don’t really know him that well,” she said instead.

  King chuckled, evidently seeing straight through the careful evasion. “Giving you a rough time, is he?”

  “Let’s just say we got off to a rocky start,” she said. “It was at least partially my fault.”

  To her surprise, King frowned. “Don’t you go taking any blame on yourself,” he scolded. “Bobby’s the kind of man who requires firm handling and total confidence. Otherwise he’ll bulldoze right over you.”

  The screen door slapped shut. “Much in the same way my father will,” Bobby said, regarding his father with tolerant amusement. “I should have known I’d find you in here. That had to be the only reason Daisy kept trying to ask for my advice about the pests in her garden—because she wanted to distract me from the much larger, more dangerous pest inside. I didn’t see your car in the driveway. Where’d you park?”

  “Around the corner,” King said, looking pleased with himself.

  Jenna barely contained a chuckle at the exchange. She had never once, in all of her twenty-eight years, been able to joke with her father like that. If she’d been able to make her points with humor, rather than anger, maybe they would have gotten along better. Maybe her father would have shown her more respect.

  “I was just having a friendly conversation,” King told his son huffily. “Nothing wrong with that, is there?”

  “Has he inquired about your intentions toward me?” Bobby asked Jenna.

  Her eyes widened. “My intentions?”

  “My father has been looking for a wife for me for some time now. He doesn’t think I’m capable of finding one on my own.”

  Jenna choked on her sip of tea, but one look at the undaunted merriment in King’s eyes had her reconsidering the sharp retort on the tip of her tongue. She grinned at him.

  “Want to talk terms?” she inquired tartly. “For the right deal, I might be persuaded to let him court me. I couldn’t make any guarantees about his success, though.”

  King hooted at her quick response. “Oh, boy, you’re in trouble with this one, son.”

  “Tell me about it,” Bobby muttered, frowning at her. “Jenna, stop encouraging him.”

  “Okay,” she agreed cheerfully. “Let’s hear your best offer.”

  Bobby stared at her. “You’re playing us against each other?”

  “Sure. Apparently you each have an agenda where I’m concerned. If the price is right, maybe I could be persuaded to ignore your father.”

  “What’s your price?” Bobby asked, looking resigned.

  Jenna didn’t hesitate. “Another meeting once I’ve roughed in some sketches of what we saw today and how I think the land could best be used.”

  Bobby sighed heavily. “Done,” he agreed. He turned on his father. “It’s on your head, when Harvey gets his drawers in a knot over the fact that he’s getting no say at all in the riverfront development.”

  “Harvey’s drawers are always in a knot about something. I can handle him.” King’s grin spread. “The question is, can you handle Jenna?”

  Bobby’s gaze locked with hers. “I’m not even going to try,” he
said as he turned around and walked away. A minute later, she heard his car start.

  Jenna turned back to King to find that he was regarding her with more respect than her own father had ever displayed.

  “You’ll do, young lady. You will most definitely do.”

  Jenna wasn’t entirely sure that King’s stamp of approval was going to get her to her original goal. If anything, his declaration that he wanted her in his son’s life might just have muddied the waters.

  Jenna was still puzzling over Bobby’s parting shot about not even trying to handle her when she and Darcy got back to their hotel later that evening. Darcy was so exhausted by her active day outside with Tommy that she could barely keep her eyes open. Even so, as she crawled into bed, she gazed up at Jenna.

  “Mama, do you think we’ll be here when Tommy’s boat is done?”

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  “Because he promised to take me fishing.”

  “And you want to go?” Jenna asked with surprise. “I thought you considered putting worms on hooks to be some form of torture. That’s what you told your grandfather when he tried to take you.”

  “Tommy said I don’t have to use worms. He said shrimp work just as good.”

  And cost a whole lot more, Jenna thought with a sigh of resignation. “We’ll see what we can work out. If we’re not here, maybe we can drive back down for a weekend.”

  Darcy yawned sleepily. “I know I didn’t want to come, but this isn’t a bad place,” she said before her eyes slid closed and stayed that way.

  Jenna watched as Darcy’s breathing slowed into the peaceful pattern of sleep. Sometimes she was awed and a little terrified when she considered the responsibility she had to make sure that nothing bad ever happened to this beautiful, feisty child of hers. Darcy’s personality wasn’t going to make her job any easier. And Nick wouldn’t be any help. He and her father were at opposite extremes. Nick was too indulgent. Jenna’s father might adore Darcy, but his strict approach to discipline was only likely to make Darcy even more rebellious than Jenna had been.

  A man like Bobby, however… She cut herself off before she could continue the thought. Despite King’s high hopes and Bobby’s enigmatic remark about not trying to fight her, she would not allow herself to think beyond her goal. That contract was the only thing that mattered. She had to remember that.

  She leaned down and pressed a kiss to Darcy’s flushed cheek. “I love you, baby, green hair and all.”

  On Thursday morning Bobby was summoned to Harvey’s office. Normally he would have balked at the imperious manner in which the order had been delivered, but it was better to get this meeting out of the way. He found the mayor wearing an expression that was even more sullen and disapproving than usual.

  “Explain this,” he said, tossing a newspaper in Bobby’s direction.

  Bobby stared at the headline above Richard’s story on the stolen carousel horse:

  Who’s Behind Theft Of Rare Carousel Horse?

  “I believe Richard is asking a question,” he said mildly. “The horse was stolen. He’s wondering who took it.”

  Harvey’s frown deepened. “Not that, dammit. The story down below.”

  Bobby’s gaze shifted and landed squarely on a picture of Jenna, accompanied by an interview about her views on boardwalk development.

  “So?” Harvey demanded.

  “So what?” Bobby responded mildly.

  “Did you hire that woman without consulting me?”

  “Actually, whom I hire is none of your concern, but no, I did not hire her.”

  Harvey slammed his fist onto the desk so hard it rattled his coffee cup. “As long as I am mayor of this town, I will determine what happens to our waterfront.”

  Bobby refused to get drawn into a pointless fight. The land belonged to him, not the town. This development was his baby. All the zoning was in place. Unless the town council set out to deliberately thwart him, Harvey Needham could bluster all he wanted. He didn’t have a leg to stand on.

  Bobby stood up and headed for the door. Just before walking out, he turned back. “I don’t think so, Harvey.”

  “You just try to get around me, Bobby Spencer,” he warned. “You won’t be able to pull a single permit without running into trouble. You’ll be dead and buried before you get this project off the ground.”

  “Really? How old are you, Harvey?”

  Harvey’s expression faltered just a little. “Sixty-five, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

  “I’m twenty-eight,” Bobby pointed out. “I’m pretty sure I can outlast you.” He strolled back across the room and leaned down until he was in the mayor’s face. “Don’t mess with me, Harvey. The people of Trinity Harbor are on my side on this one. I have a whole drawerful of surveys to prove it. I don’t know if you’re in bed with some developer or just plain stupid, but this town isn’t big enough for some grand-scale project that blocks river access for our residents. We’re a small town with a chance to see that something’s done right with our best natural resource. I don’t intend to blow that opportunity.”

  Harvey’s complexion turned pale. “I’ll have the land seized for public use.”

  Bobby’s gaze narrowed at the threat. “Just try it,” he said quietly.

  “I can do it,” Harvey insisted.

  Bobby shook his head. “You can try,” he agreed. “But it will be your last act in public office. And I have a hunch the folks in this community will make your life so uncomfortable, you’ll be hightailing it for some retirement village in Florida where the most excitement you’ll find is your daily shuffleboard game—assuming you can find someone willing to play with you.”

  “Typical Spencer,” Harvey said disparagingly. “Trying to throw your weight around.”

  Bobby laughed at that. “You might want to think that one over, Mr. Mayor. I’m not the one who ordered a citizen into my office and started making threats. Wouldn’t that look nice in next week’s headlines? Maybe I’ll stop by Richard’s office on my way back to the yacht center.”

  There was no mistaking the fact that Harvey was seething, but he wisely kept silent. Bobby waited, his gaze locked on the scurrilous jerk, then finally gave a nod of satisfaction.

  “Good,” he said. “I’ll see you around.”

  He’d barely hit the steps down to the first floor of the town offices when he heard Harvey bellow for his secretary. “Get Mitch Cummings on the phone for me,” he shouted. “Now!”

  Mitch Cummings? The name sounded familiar, but Bobby couldn’t place it. Maybe Richard would know. Instead of heading straight back to work, he swung by the office of The Trinity Harbor Weekly paper. He found Richard sitting behind his desk, his feet propped up, reading the latest edition.

  “It’s a little late to be checking your spelling,” Bobby observed as he took a seat opposite Richard.

  “Well, if it isn’t our own mover and shaker,” Richard greeted him. “Did you come by to pat me on the back for the excellent coverage I gave you?”

  “Actually, I hardly saw a mention of my name, but that was a nice picture of Jenna. You two in cahoots to pressure me to hire her?”

  Richard laughed. “Pressure would be Anna-Louise’s turf. I try not to be in cahoots with anybody.”

  “Well, you certainly did stir up the mayor,” Bobby reported. “He’s over at Town Hall on the verge of apoplexy. And you realize, don’t you, that if Harvey keels over, Tucker will find some way to charge both of us with murder?”

  “Oh, all that venting probably keeps the man healthy,” Richard said dismissively. He regarded Bobby intently. “If you didn’t come by to sing my praises, then why are you here?”

  “I’ve got a name I want to run by you. You ever heard of Mitch Cummings?”

  Richard’s expression sobered at once. “Where did you hear his name?”

  “Just now in Harvey’s office. The instant I walked out the door, he yelled at his secretary to call Cummings.”

  �
�Then I suggest you watch your back,” Richard said. “Cummings is a retired investigator. Lives down in Richmond. I’m not sure what he’s up to these days, but he and the mayor are old pals. My hunch is that he intends to use Cummings to start trying to dig up some dirt on you. If you’ve got any secrets, now would be a good time to make sure they’re buried as deep as you can get them.”

  Bobby laughed.

  “It’s not funny,” Richard warned. “It sounds to me like the mayor intends to start playing dirty.”

  “Let him knock himself out. My life’s so squeaky clean, it could be a testimonial for a detergent.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Positive. My sole indiscretion was being stupid enough to ask Ann-Marie to marry me, but she’s the one who broke the engagement and ran off with my best friend. Besides, everyone in town knows that story. They could probably also tell you about the time I borrowed Lonnie’s bike and he reported it stolen.”

  “Well, there you go,” Richard said.

  “Sadly, when the police came to his house to check it out, they found the bike sitting right smack in the middle of his driveway.”

  “Ah.”

  “There’s nothing for me to worry about,” Bobby said. “Not from Lonnie, not from Ann-Marie, not from anyone.”

  Richard nodded. “Would Ann-Marie describe your breakup the same way? For that matter, what about Lonnie? Do either of them have an axe to grind?”

  “Are you kidding?” Bobby demanded indignantly. “I was the victim, not either one of them.”

  “Funny thing about that, though. Over time, particularly if people become outcasts because of decisions they made in the past, they occasionally like to revise history and make themselves into the ones who’ve suffered.”

  As Richard spoke, Bobby went absolutely still. His temper, usually slow to build, slipped immediately into overdrive. Nothing could do that to him faster than a mention of Ann-Marie and his former best friend. Add to that the suggestion that somehow he had wronged them and it made him want to break things. There could be only one reason for Richard to bring up the topic—the Trinity Harbor rumor mill was hard at work.

 

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