Town manager Savannah Castillo has everything under control, just the way she likes it. But when she starts to receive unsolicited gifts and messages from a stranger, her life turns to chaos. Against her better judgment, Savannah accepts Deputy Chief Mackenzie Blake’s help in the investigation and is more than a little annoyed when Mackenzie suggests herself as a part-time, live-in bodyguard.
Savannah isn’t Mackenzie’s favorite person. She’s rude and entitled, and she always has to have the last word. Always. But when she and her daughter Eliana need help, protecting them becomes more than just a job. Mackenzie’s mission is to find the person harassing them before they cause real harm. Savannah’s fleeting and incredibly sexy smiles don’t make the task any easier, and there’s no time for distractions.
Not when someone waits in the shadows, watching and preparing to strike.
Secrets in a Small Town
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Secrets in a Small Town
© 2019 By Nicole Stiling. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-63555-435-9
This Electronic Book is published by
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, New York 12185
First Edition: May 2019
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editors: Victoria Villaseñor and Barbara Ann Wright
Production Design: Stacia Seaman
Cover Design by Jeanine Henning
Acknowledgments
First, I’d like to thank the team at Bold Strokes Books for taking a chance on an unknown and turning my dream into a page-turning reality.
To my editor, Victoria, thank you for editing me to within an inch of my life. This book is infinitely better because of you.
So much love and gratitude to my wife, Donna, for her steadfast support and ideas throughout the process. This would have been impossible without you.
To my children, I hope you see that it’s possible to get anywhere you set your mind to, no matter how long the road is to get there.
Thank you to my family—Mom, Dad, Dad, Di, Nana, Grandpa, and everyone else who encouraged me along the way. I am forever grateful for your support.
For my mother—my harshest critic, my strongest supporter, and my closest friend. I love you with all my heart.
Chapter One
Their eyes darted back and forth as the Sig Sauer P226 waved slowly in front of them. The shine on the oiled black metal had them captivated; no one dared to look away. Sweat beaded on her forehead. She’d never been in control of so many at one time. If any of them, just one of them, decided to go rogue, she’d be at their mercy.
A hand shot up into the air. “Do you get free sodas at the 24 / 7 downtown?”
Relief began to creep in. Maybe Micki could handle this after all. “No, but some places offer discounts to police officers. I think the 24 / 7 takes a dollar off the total price.”
Another hand wriggled in the air. “Do you really eat doughnuts all the time?”
“Um, no. We don’t. Sometimes we bring doughnuts in to share, but we don’t do it every day or anything.”
The first-grade class at Winter Valley Elementary hung on Micki’s every word, rapt. This was her first career day since becoming the deputy chief of police, and it was right up there with drug busts and fistfights.
A tiny boy with a buzz cut raised his hand. “My dad tells me that the police are going to put me in jail if I unbuckle my seat belt while he’s driving. Is that true?”
Micki squirmed, not interested in creating family drama by telling kids their parents were lying to them. “Well, no, not exactly, but you definitely should never do that. If your dad got into an accident, you could get seriously hurt.”
The dam broke, and questions were shot at her from every direction.
“Can I touch your gun?”
“No.”
“Can I hold your handcuffs?”
“No.”
“Can we tie you up with a jump rope so you can show us how to break out of it?”
“Definitely not.”
“Have you shot anybody?”
“Not today.”
One of the students who Micki actually knew raised her hand politely. “Yes, Eliana?”
“Ryan doesn’t believe that you’re my friend. He thinks I’m making it up.”
Micki smiled. “Actually, Ryan, Eliana’s right. We are friends. She’s my junior deputy,” she said, throwing a wink to the small brunette. She grinned back, showing off the bare bit of gums where her two bottom teeth had recently fallen out.
“Well, if no one else has any questions, I think my time is just about up,” Micki said. She pulled a bag of plastic police badges out from under her chair. “Any takers?”
The entire class jumped up from their seats and swarmed her. Micki turned sheepishly to the first-grade teacher, who was looking at her sternly.
“I thought we agreed that I would pass those out after your presentation.”
“Sorry, Mrs. Gross. My bad.”
The students were affixing their badges to their shirts, their belt loops, and their backpacks. Micki felt a sense of pride that they all thought her work was important. They didn’t need to know that in such a small town, the most exciting thing that had happened in the last week was a stolen wallet. And it was later found in the owner’s trunk.
“Let’s give a round of applause to Chief Blake,” Mrs. Gross said, starting it herself. The kids dutifully clapped while Micki waved good-bye.
Rebecca Raye was standing in the doorway, clapping along with the children. “Very nice, Chief.”
“Did you see the whole thing?” Micki asked, tightening her belt once they were out in the hallway. Police belts were meant to stay put, but they couldn’t stand up to a bunch of children pulling at handcuff cases and flashlights.
“No, just the end. Mrs. Gross was pissed at you.”
“I seem to have that effect on teachers.”
“You want some chicken nuggets? I have extras. It’s the students’ favorite lunch day. Besides pizza, of course.”
Micki paused. “Yeah, I could eat.”
She followed Rebecca down the long corridor to the cafeteria kitchen. Micki tied her hair into a ponytail to avoid getting any in the food. She plucked a wavy blond strand off her sleeve and held it over into the trash can, making sure it wasn’t one of the gray ones she’d seen popping up lately. She was glad Rebecca hadn’t asked her to put on a hairnet.
“Chicken nuggets again?” a voice asked from behind them.
“Oh, hi, Savannah,” Rebecca said. “Yeah, that’s our usual Thursday lunch. The kids love it.”
Savannah Castillo held up a nugget, though she didn’t look as if she actually wanted to touch it. “They also love cotton candy and ice cream, but neither of those things are appropriate lunches.”
Rebecca cleared her throat. “We use all-natural chicken breast, and we bake them, so they’re not really unhealthy.”
Micki popped one into her mouth. “Mmm, delicious. And I can taste the healthiness with every bite,” she said,
looking pointedly at Savannah.
“Aren’t you due back at the police station? I didn’t realize an elementary school career presentation lasted an entire day.” Savannah pulled the sunglasses from the top of her head and dangled them from her fingertips.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the town hall? I didn’t realize that the town manager’s agenda included an inspection of every public building in Winter Valley.” Every single time she and Savannah faced off, Micki felt the need to get the last word in, which wasn’t her style. But something about Savannah brought out her biting sarcasm.
“Actually, I—”
Rebecca interrupted. “Lunch is going to be served in fifteen minutes. If I don’t get these plated up, we’re going to have a mutiny on our hands. Savannah, I’ll see you at five?”
It was clear Micki had been dismissed as Savannah turned her attention to Rebecca. Savannah nodded. “Yes. Please make sure all of her homework is done. Yesterday, she still had math to do when she got home.”
“Absolutely. Sorry about that. I’ll make sure Eliana finishes everything before you pick her up.”
Savannah nodded and walked out of the cafeteria without another word.
“I think she likes me,” Micki said, stuffing another chicken nugget into her mouth.
Rebecca laughed. “Do you have to antagonize her all the time? I think your life would be a whole lot easier if you just let things go once in a while.”
“Nah. Where’s the fun in that? You working at the diner tonight?” Micki asked, shrugging on her windbreaker.
“No, not tonight. Once Savannah picks up El, I’m just going to chill on the couch, drink some wine, and drunk text Patrick.”
“Oh God, please don’t. I don’t need to walk in on that again.” There were definite drawbacks to having a roommate, and coming home to find someone blindfolded and draped over a chair was certainly one of them.
Wrapping up about six more chicken nuggets into a napkin, Micki said good-bye and walked out of the school, feeling as if she’d just been sprung for the day. She waggled her fingers sweetly in a sarcastic wave to Savannah, who was pulling out of the parking lot in her jet-black Infiniti. Savannah didn’t wave back.
Chapter Two
Micki sat at her desk in the bullpen of the police station. Normally, the chief would have an office, but the only office in the building was under remodel. The fact that it had been that way since Micki’d been appointed chief didn’t go unnoticed. The construction was moving at a snail’s pace, and knowing Savannah, were it any other project in the town, it would have been completed approximately thirteen months earlier, around the same time Savannah had hired the crew to do the work. But every time Micki brought it up, Savannah would shoot her right down. She’d make her feel selfish and egocentric for even suggesting that her office take precedence over a wheelchair-accessible ramp at the high school or a playground outside the community daycare. So, Micki just shut her mouth and sat next to Jack and Billy in the white-walled bullpen. At least their computers had been upgraded to technology that had been released in the 2000s.
“Yes, Mom,” Micki said, toying with the coiled phone cord. “I don’t see what the big deal is. Having a roommate doesn’t bother me, and Rebecca is great. Yes, I know I’m the chief of police, but have you googled what the chief of a town like this makes? I don’t live in San Francisco. Okay. I didn’t think I would have a roommate at thirty either, but what can you do?” She pinched the bridge of her nose, exhausted by the conversation they had every time she called. “They just brought in a serial killer; I have to go. I’ll call you later. Tell Dad I love him. Bye.”
Micki sighed dramatically and looked toward the ceiling. She knew her mother meant well, but it was draining to have to defend her career and her living situation over and over again. Though she might have envisioned herself storming through windows for the SWAT team at one time, even Micki was surprised to find that she was perfectly content exactly where she was.
“I hope I don’t have a roommate at thirty,” Billy said, smirking.
Micki peeked at his monitor and saw he was playing one of those seek-and-find games that takes place in a detective’s office. Fitting.
“Really?” Micki asked, raising her eyebrows.
“What? It’s on-the-job-training. I should get a bonus for this.”
“You’re definitely going to have a roommate at thirty. Your mom.”
Billy scoffed but laughed anyway. He was used to being ribbed for his age. The only three employees of the Winter Valley Police were Billy, who’d graduated high school three years earlier; Micki, the chief; and Jack, who didn’t ever let on what his real age was. Could have been sixty, could have been ninety. Only Micki knew, since she had to provide his annual reviews, but she was happy to keep his secret.
“TM was in here earlier looking for the public safety budget proposal,” Billy said, not looking up from his screen. Random visits from the town manager were never a good thing.
“Shit, why? She said it had to be in by the end of the day.” Micki checked her watch. “It’s only four o’clock. That gives me eight hours to finish it.”
“Sure, Mick.”
“I bet she hasn’t hassled the fire department for their budget proposal yet,” Micki muttered. She sharpened a pencil down to a nub.
“I didn’t have to, Chief Blake. Chief Patel had his budget on my desk yesterday.”
Micki closed her eyes as the raspy, biting voice of the esteemed town manager filled the bullpen. “Yes, Ms. Castillo. Chief Patel is a shining star of public service, and I am a walking example of what not to do.” Micki didn’t bother to turn around, knowing full well it would irk Savannah.
“As long as we’re on the same page. I need your proposal no later than six tonight. Email it to me. I have to start reviewing them, and yours takes a very long time to weed through.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Micki said through gritted teeth and started sharpening another pencil down to its nub.
“Good night, Officer Parker,” Savannah said to Billy, and her heels clicked as she walked back out of the station.
“Good night, Ms. Castillo!” Billy called out loudly.
Micki glared at him. “Traitor.” She pulled out the stack of half-completed forms and requests and sifted through them. Micki wished that Billy or Jack could take on some of the administrative duties, but neither of them had shown any kind of predisposition toward them in her admittedly half-assed training session earlier that year. Jack had nodded off a few times, and Billy had seemed to find his fingernails fascinating. What she really wanted was that admin person she’d been routinely denied.
Pushing the paperwork to the side, Micki scrolled through the 9-1-1 database to see if anything interesting had come in. Nothing. She checked her appointment schedule. A meeting with Parks and Rec on Thursday at nine a.m. She refreshed her in-box. Twenty percent off all ankle-length socks. Hurry, sale only lasts twenty-four hours! She looked back to the messy scatter of forms and checked her watch.
“Fine,” she grumbled and pulled up last quarter’s spreadsheet.
Chapter Three
“Third one this week! Someone definitely has a secret admirer,” Chloe said, raising her eyebrow playfully.
Savannah cast a glance at the coffee table in her office, the unwanted gifts lying in a messy pile. “What is it this time?” Savannah asked, sighing in frustration.
“Not sure. It’s wrapped.” Chloe gently placed the box on Savannah’s desk. There was no return label, and the only identifying mark on the package was the word “Savannah” scrawled in sprawling calligraphy.
Savannah first eyed Chloe, who was smiling gleefully, and then the nondescript package. She had hired Chloe against her better judgment. The need for an assistant won out over the glum reality of a consistently chipper presence in the office. Chipper wasn’t really Savannah’s thing.
“If they’re too cowardly to identify themselves, then why should I bother opening it?” Savannah br
ushed the box aside and began flipping through the papers on her desk.
“Aw, come on, don’t you find it the least bit romantic? Someone has a crush on you from afar and is working up the nerve to tell you.” Chloe gestured toward the wilting flowers and heart-shaped box.
“No. In fact, I find it quite trite. Flowers? Candy? When was the last time you saw me eat a truffle? Exactly. Never. This admirer clearly doesn’t know me in the least.”
“Just open it. If it’s another bust, I’ll throw it all out, and we never have to speak of this again,” Chloe said, smiling with her head cocked.
Savannah drummed her fingers. Chloe was getting very comfortable very fast. She wasn’t sure how to feel about it. The perky little redhead didn’t seem to treat her with the same apprehension she had come to expect from nearly everyone. Over time, Savannah had come to appreciate the control her standoffishness had afforded her, but she had to admit, she didn’t completely hate that someone seemed interested in her as a person. “Fine,” Savannah said sullenly, tearing the brown paper off the box. She used scissors to slit the tape at the top, and they both jumped when something sprang out at them.
A battered jack-in-the-box, caked with what appeared to be years of dirt and mildew, swayed haphazardly on its rusted spring. Its eyes had been removed, leaving only the hollowed-out circles where they once had been. Savannah backed up quickly, knocking her chair into the wall.
“This one’s not so romantic,” Chloe said as the head creaked eerily back and forth. She tugged at the corner of notebook paper sticking up behind the toy. “I don’t get it.”
“It’s obviously someone’s idea of a sick joke. And it’s not particularly funny. What does the note say?” Savannah asked, her hand on her hip. At first, there was the tiniest bit of flattery associated with the attention. But unpredictability wasn’t something Savannah embraced. So, by the time the second item had arrived, she was over it. Now she was definitely irritated.
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