“You like to cook?” An avaricious gleam entered the older woman’s eyes.
“If it weren’t for me, we’d both starve,” Tim confirmed with a smirk.
“Well, then you should come on into to the kitchen with me and meet my husband. Buddy makes a mean cheesy egg casserole. If you don’t mind leaving the two of us to our girl talk, that is.”
“Not at all.” Tim had never acquired a taste for Lucy’s research.
Maxie returned a couple of minutes later with two cups of coffee, taking Tim’s seat so she could
look at Lucy while they spoke.
“He really enjoys cooking?” Lucy nodded. “Then, if he needs a job, he can work here. Like I said,
the food’s plain, but we could use a hand, and if he wants to try out a few more complicated recipes, well, I’m open to that, too. The Hollow’s coming up in the world, and people here have more sophisticated tastes these days.”
“I bet he’d love that. But I have to warn you: not everyone’s overjoyed to have us back. Someone already threw a pair of bricks through our window, and I wouldn’t want you to have trouble because Tim worked here.”
Maxie laughed again. “Honey, having that boy here will make me a rich woman. Everyone in town’s heard y’all have moved back, and they’re going to want to keep their eyes on the both of you at all times. The ones who actually know you ’round here these days are a minority. A very vocal minority, I’ll give you that, but still. The rest will want to come in to find out what all the fuss is about. I foresee a huge increase in business.”
“In that case, I’ll certainly talk to him.”
“Good. But I’m guessing right now you want to ask me about your momma.”
Lucy sucked in a deep breath, let it out slowly. “Did you know her?”
“Sure. Not too well, though, since she was a couple years younger than me. I’m fifty-one. Near as I recall, she’d be forty-nine.”
“That’s right.” Lucy had to force herself to ask the next question calmly, not to jump all over Maxie in delight at having found someone willing to speak to her. “Did you grow up together?”
Maxie looked at her oddly. “She didn’t grow up here at all. Didn’t you know that?”
“No. It never even occurred to me. . . .” Lucy’s excitement evaporated, and she wanted to slam her head into the table. How could she not have researched such a basic thing? She’d planned to get her mother’s birth certificate eventually—it was precisely the kind of thing that made for interesting photographs in a book—but she’d been so focused on the end of Cecile’s life, she hadn’t spent time yet on the beginning.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s fine. That’s exactly the kind of thing I came to find out. When did she move here?”
“Well, you were just a little thing. Three or four, I think. And she was twenty-one. I remember because Buddy and I had just gotten married. He was home on leave, and he left again not a week after she got here. She took an apartment in town at first, and got a job over to the drugstore. Doc White, he was the pharmacist, he let her bring you to work with her.”
Lucy forced her mind back, but couldn’t remember being a child in an apartment, or playing in a drugstore, let alone a life before those things. “How long did that last?”
“Not too long, actually. Not even a year. She said she’d inherited a little money, then bought the house way out on the post road. It was considered unsociable, when there were houses for sale much closer to town. When you went into first grade, she quit her job at the drugstore.”
“Inherited? So we had other family?” Everything Lucy thought she knew was crumbling. They had family? Maybe cousins? Someone she and Tim could have gone to who would have taken them in? Was it even possible? Why would her mother have kept such important information away from her?
“I never heard any details. Just she inherited money. That was when the talk began. Here was this woman with a child who had no father anyone knew of, which was pretty bad in those days, and then she up and quit her job. The gossips began wondering just how much money she had and how she might be making more.”
“Especially since she drank an awful lot of it away.”
“Yes.” Maxie’s gray eyes carefully hid any sign of pity, for which Lucy was grateful. “And when your brother came along, it just confirmed the rumors. A couple divorces got blamed on her when she started showing, including Andrew Dobbs’.”
“Mayor Dobbs got divorced because of my mother?” Her research had turned up an obituary for Marianne Dobbs, but nothing about a divorce.
“If you want my opinion, Marianne Dobbs just used Cecile as an excuse to kick that no-account bastard out of the house. If there’d been more to it than that, she could have insisted on a paternity test once the kid was born, and she didn’t. In fact, they never even finalized the proceedings, so I figure Marianne didn’t really think her husband was Tim’s daddy, she just wanted leverage if she did have to go through with the divorce. After all, the man ran around on her all the time, but he was too concerned with his public image to let on he’d had to pay for sex.” She winced. “Sorry, sugar.”
Lucy shrugged. “She was what she was.” But maybe that was why Andrew Dobbs Junior had hated Lucy so much. Not an excuse for what he’d done to her in high school, but maybe an explanation.
And the paternity test . . . if Marianne Dobbs had kicked Dobbs Senior out over Cecile’s pregnancy, why hadn’t the mayor—or the state senator, as he’d been at the time—insisted on one to prove his innocence? Possibly, he’d hoped the whole scandal would just die faster if he didn’t provide any more grist for the gossip mill, but, still, it was a thread Lucy would have to find the time to tug.
Tim came out of the kitchen carrying a tray of food, effectively putting an end to the conversation. But Maxie had given Lucy a great deal to think about, and the facts gnawed at her as she picked at her food, and continued to do so while she and Tim fixed the diner’s door.
Once they were through, Lucy took Tim home and checked to be sure there had been no uninvited visitors during their absence. The boys Ethan had sent over to scrub the walls had almost finished, and she told Tim to invite them in for iced tea and ice cream when they were done. She still resented Donovan’s interference in her life, but she had to admit the house did look better, and it was a distinct relief not to have to concern herself with Tim’s well-being in the brutal Texas summer heat.
Leaving the house and boys in Tim’s hands, Lucy drove herself to the library. While in Dallas, she’d gathered any information as she could on the Hollow, but although the town had its own website, the local paper did not. Back issues of the Dobbs Digest would have to be accessed on paper or maybe on microfiche. Luckily, she wasn’t trying to hide her research; she could walk up to the information desk and ask for copies.
Of course, nothing could be so simple.
Chapter Four
I remember, in grade school, examining all the childless men in the neighborhood, wondering which one was my daddy. It didn’t occur to me until after Timmy was born that our daddies might have other children, other families. I asked momma once whether she’d divorced our daddies and that’s why they weren’t around. She just laughed and said she’d never had that kind of luck.
from A Bad Day to Die by Lucy Sadler Caldwell [DRAFT]
ETHAN HAD EXPECTED a pile of memos on his desk. He hadn’t expected to find Sheriff Billy Pike in his office. The man sat in Ethan’s chair, resting crossed ankles on Ethan’s desk and sorting through files from Ethan’s inbox. When Ethan had been hired, Pike had let him know in no uncertain terms that the sheriff in Adams County outranked the Dobbs Hollow chief of police in every way.
If Ethan hadn’t needed a job so badly, he’d have gone back to Houston on the spot. It had taken a while, but eventually he and Pike had come to an uneasy détente. Now, it looked as if that
was over. Ethan leaned against the doorjamb, refusing to show his irritation.
“Good morning, Sheriff. What can I do for you this fine morning?”
“Mayor Dobbs tells me there’s a new resident in town.” Cold hazel eyes assessed Ethan, and he found himself shifting his weight from leg to leg. He forced himself to remain still and kept his voice casual.
“Several, since the last time I’ve seen you. The apartments over on Archer are almost full.” What was it with these people and Lucy Sadler? Sure, it wouldn’t be comfortable having the old murder raked up, especially since Al Pike hadn’t done a damned thing to determine the culprit, but was a little embarrassment worth trying to run her out of town? And if what TJ had said was true, Billy Pike had more than likely benefited from Lucy’s poor reputation when they were younger—if Drew Dobbs had held Lucy over his girlfriends’ heads, no doubt Pike had done the same.
“Don’t be a fool. I’m trying to give you advice here. You never met the girl or her mother, don’t know darling little Lucy like the rest of us do. Liars, she and her mother both. Say anything and screw anyone to get what they want.”
For the first time, Ethan realized TJ hadn’t explicitly denied the rumors about Lucy’s promiscuity. He felt vaguely ill. He had a hard time picturing a fifteen-year-old girl as a seductress. Especially a fifteen-year-old girl who’d grown into a woman determined to solve her mother’s murder as well as care for her sick brother. And who painted her toenails baby-girl pink. He shook off the thought and focused on Pike.
“Exactly what is it she wants she’d have to lie to get? I’ve already given her a copy of the case file on her mother’s murder.”
If the statement startled Pike, he gave no sign. “If that’s all she was after, she could have called and asked for it. Maybe the visit’s a PR stunt. Maybe her books aren’t selling all that well and she needs a boost. I have no idea, but you mark my words, that woman is trouble.”
Trouble for who? Ethan examined Pike with critical eyes. The man appeared relaxed, but he’d had years of practice as an actor, any career cop had. No way was he merely here to do Ethan a favor, though. Something else was at stake. Probably whatever had made Lucy insist Ethan send any evidence in her mother’s case to the state, rather than the county.
“Okay, fine,” Ethan said easily, watching for any reaction. “But even if Miz Sadler isn’t the town’s most upstanding citizen, she’s hardly county business.”
Pike smiled, a tight, transparently thin grimace, not intended to signify humor in any way.
“Now, see, that’s just plain shortsighted. As I recall, you have about three months left on your contract. If things don’t work out here and you, say, find another position more appealing, it’ll be up to me to watch out for the town until we find your replacement. So, naturally, I’m keeping an eye on the situation. In case it isn’t resolved satisfactorily before then.”
A threat? But Dobbs Hollow’s chief of police was hired—and fired—by the mayor, with the approval of the town council. Which meant that both Pike and Dobbs had pawns in play. The itch at the base of Ethan’s neck sharpened into pain, and he straightened from his casual slouch in the doorway. “You trying to tell me something, Sheriff? ’Cause if you are, you’re going to have to be a little clearer. I’m a simple guy, so spell it out for me.”
Pike rose, tossing the files he’d been perusing onto Ethan’s desk, scattering papers everywhere. “Just passing along some advice,” he said. “Y’all have a good day, now.”
When Pike left, Ethan set about sorting through the scattered sheets and trying to process the conversation. What on earth were Dobbs and Pike hiding that they were afraid Lucy’s investigation would expose? Not murder. That much he was fairly sure of. A murderer would merely have killed Lucy, disposed of her the same way he’d disposed of Cecile, and he’d have done so before anyone connected them.
• • •
“COME ON, EULIE,” Lucy said, forcing a strained smile at the woman behind the library’s circulation counter. They’d been arguing for almost half an hour. “What am I likely to do to the microfiche machine? I promise, I have plenty of experience using them.”
“Rules are rules,” the woman replied with a sniff. “Once the Dobbs Digest goes to film, we have no other copies. We have to protect it.”
“I’m a writer, for goodness sake. I treasure words. I’m the last person who would destroy them. Besides, you’ll be able to keep an eye on me the whole time.” Lucy gestured to the glassed-in enclosure at the rear of the library. It contained a computer, a printer, a copier, and the microfiche reader.
Not that she actually believed Eulie was worried about the films. This argument, like many others she expected to have in Dobbs Hollow, sprang from her mother’s lifestyle. “I’m not saying you can’t look at the microfiche, just that you need a library card like everyone else. I understand you’re used to preferential treatment, but around here you’re no one special.”
If only that were true, but Lucy could hardly accuse Eulie of treating her badly if she wanted the woman’s cooperation. And she did. Not that Eulie was likely to talk about the fact that her high school sweetheart had cheated on her, or the fact that both she and Jed had been interviewed after Cecile’s murder, but Lucy wouldn’t shut down a potential source.
She counted to ten, then did it a second time. “So you need what, exactly, before you’ll give me a library card?”
“Proof you’re a Hollow resident. Bills in your name at a local address, property tax receipts, that sort of thing. It’s really not that complicated.”
And if she went home to get the installation paperwork from the cable company, would the issues of the Digest she’d requested still be available when she returned? Or would they mysteriously have disappeared or been damaged? Perhaps she could have Tim bring her the bill, though he’d have to call a cab to do so.
She was about to pull out her cell phone when a deep voice sounded behind her, sending an unwelcome thrill up her spine.
“Now, Eulie, I’m sure you can come up with a way around this. You’ve too fine a mind to be flummoxed by a tangle of bureaucratic red tape.”
“Chief Donovan, I never thought I’d hear you advocating breaking the rules.” She sniffed again, and Lucy gave silent thanks for having left town when she did. Dobbs Hollow had apparently turned Eulie into an old woman before her fortieth birthday.
“Well, not so much breaking them as bending them. I can vouch for Miz Sadler, here. Surely you wouldn’t want to deprive her and her brother of the joys of reading?”
Eulie frowned and glanced down at her hands but finally gave in with a huff, taking Lucy’s twenty-five dollars and issuing her a card. Lucy restrained both a smirk at her success and a laugh at the library card, which was little more than a business card with her name and address on it. Her phone number was her library identification number—luckily, she’d written it down when the telephone company had assigned it, since the equipment itself was not yet in place—and Eulie’s signature completed the ID. Glaring, Eulie passed the card through a laminating machine and handed it over.
“I’ll get started, then,” Lucy said, but even that couldn’t go smoothly.
“It’s five minutes to twelve. The library closes between twelve and one. I have to have my lunch.”
Lucy ground her teeth together to keep from threatening Eulie with strangulation. The scathing remark on the tip of her tongue died, however, when Ethan Donovan laid a large, heavy hand on her shoulder.
“Course you do, Eulie. I’ll bet Miz Sadler, here, needs to get some food in her, too. How ’bout it, ma’am? Care to join me for a bite? There’s a burger spot about five miles down the road. Wouldn’t have been around when you lived here, and Josh Edgar makes a mean cheeseburger.”
The outraged expression on Eulie’s face gave Lucy her answer. Summoning her best smile and batting her lashes just a ti
ny bit, she hooked an arm through Ethan’s and rested her fingers against his biceps. If claiming the man made his life a bit difficult, she couldn’t afford to care. After all, she imagined the burger wouldn’t be the only thing grilled at the restaurant.
“Why, Chief Donovan, what a lovely invitation. Of course I’ll have lunch with you.” Her slight stammer, she told herself, had nothing whatsoever to do with the disconcerting strength and heat of the muscles flexing beneath her fingertips.
• • •
WHAT IN HELL had he been thinking? Bad enough he’d played simpleton to the sheriff’s good-old-boy routine, which was pretty much guaranteed to come back and bite him in the ass, but he’d just insured the biggest gossip in town would spread the word he’d taken Lucy Sadler Caldwell’s side in a battle he didn’t even understand.
As they left the library, she dropped her hand from his arm. Her fingernails were painted the same color as her toes. Did the polish or the attitude represent the real Lucy? The way she’d pressed her small breast against him when she slid her hand around his arm argued for the attitude—and for Sheriff Pike being right about her man-eating ways. But the deep breath she took at the bottom of the four steps down from the library’s door, and the way she stretched her fingers as if her hands had been curled in tension, argued for the fingernails.
Once upon a time, he’d been a pretty good judge of character. Of course, that was Before. But he wouldn’t—couldn’t—let himself believe anything had changed. So he’d take this disconcerting woman to lunch and practice his rusty skills on her.
“Thank you.” He stared down into those expressive blue eyes and realized she meant for more than simply opening the door to the cruiser for her. But she’d never say it. Like her agreement to take Tim to breakfast while he arranged for her siding to be scrubbed, the thanks were offered grudgingly.
Edgar’s Bar and Burger Joint wasn’t crowded, but the few patrons at the scarred picnic tables salvaged from a long-deserted roadside park eyed him and Lucy avidly. He wondered whether Eulie had called ahead. He wouldn’t put it past her. When Mayor Dobbs and his secretary—whom not even the most charitable believed had been hired for her typing skills—coincidentally wandered in for lunch, his suspicions were confirmed.
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