A Touch of Scarlet

by Liz Talley

  “Well, yeah. I can’t spend my life having one-night stands and avoiding the noose. I need a partner, a helpmate, someone who will sit on the porch with me and grow old. I want the American dream. And, no offense, but you don’t fit that—”

  “No, I sure the hell don’t.” Another dagger of hurt lodged in her heart. Which was dumb. He’d out and out stated she was wrong for him. But at least he had been honest about what he wanted. He wanted a Stepford wife, something she could certainly portray on film but would never do in real life. This was for the best. “So we’ll ignore this thing and stay totally platonic. Outside of that one kiss, we’ve done nothing wrong, so you have nothing to worry about. Right?”

  He didn’t look convinced.

  “Well, see you in a few days.” She slipped out the door. Her inner child stamped her foot and screeched, “It’s not fair,” at the top of her little lungs, but Scarlet knew Adam was right. Indulging in a fleeting, but likely pleasurable, horizontal tango would open a can of slimy, icky worms. She didn’t like worms. She liked Californian sunshine. So she needed to get this thing in Oak Stand done and get herself to the West Coast.

  After all, she had a bisexual hooker to portray.

  ADAM STARED AT THE CLOSED DOOR for a good three minutes before sliding his hand into his desk drawer to check for the videotape.

  You have nothing to worry about.

  In the words of football analyst Lee Corso, “Not so fast, my friend.”

  He had cold, hard evidence of his inappropriate behavior in his desk drawer. Misconduct with a prisoner.

  If anyone caught wind of it, Adam would be toast.

  He’d lose his job.

  His reputation.

  Everything he’d worked so hard for over the past year.

  He closed the drawer as guilt crowded his mind. The tape belonged in the locked cabinet in the outer office, but he couldn’t bring himself to put it there. He’d told the department he’d locked it in his desk because of the celebrity of the prisoner. Everyone had agreed upon the idea, and it was likely no one would ever view it. But, Scarlet was a celebrity. No doubt there were many who would love to get their hands on footage of the vampire vixen in lockdown. He could see it now, rolling across his TV screen on Star Access.

  He could see himself, threading his hands in her hair, covering her fabulous lips with his own. He could imagine the heat that would radiate from them. All the pent-up lust he had for Scarlet would be right there for everyone to see.

  He didn’t know what to do with the tape. If push came to shove, he’d turn it over to a judge or another law agency. He’d have to. And because of his job, he couldn’t erase it or damage it.

  So he kept it safe. It could stay in his desk until things died down. Until Scarlet left, taking the nosy reporters and the trouble she caused with her.

  A nudge of regret reverberated in his chest, but he ignored it. The way he had to ignore his libido.

  “Hey.” Roz stuck her head in his door, swiveling her gaze left, then right as if the ghost of her former employer would rampage upon her and deport her to the bowels of hell. “You got a call on line two and Harvey Primm is out front. He missed Scarlet by a minute. Thank God.”

  She shut the door before he could respond with a dirty word. He’d gotten his filthy mouth under control before Scarlet hit town. Now every other thought included a colorful obscenity.

  Harvey appeared at his door as the light on his phone stopped blinking. “Hello, Hinton. I need to talk to you about this Scarlet Rose gal. She’s causing all sorts of problems in this town and, as police chief, it’s your job to curtail problems.”

  Adam closed his eyes and gestured Harvey to take the chair Scarlet had vacated. He locked the drawer and tucked the key into his pocket. Primm narrowed his eyes and Adam wished he’d waited. A man like Harvey would read into such an action. He could probably sniff out Adam’s guilt, too. “What can I do for you, Mr. Primm?”

  “This girl is harassing me. I caught her spying on me the day before yesterday. Trying to catch me doing something she can take to all the big papers.”

  “Scarlet Rose?”

  “She’s waiting for me to mess up so she can expose me. That’s harassment. Think I don’t know that?”

  “Mr. Primm, I hardly think the woman would bother. She doesn’t seem the type to stalk an older man—”

  “You’ve been hoodwinked by a pretty face. Her sinful body has you in its grasp, doesn’t it?”

  If only you knew.

  “Beware falling for the sins of the flesh.” Harvey pointed a bony finger at Adam.

  “Now, wait a minute, Primm. I don’t like what you’re accusing me of. I have not been taken in by anyone, and you can’t make accusations against the woman without backing them up.”

  “So you want proof?”

  Adam knew the old man was a bit of a crackpot, but had no idea he had such delusions. He couldn’t imagine Scarlet dashing behind buildings and digging through trash cans in order to get dirt on Primm. But Primm? Definitely. He would wade through raw sewage to get the scoop on someone. “That’s usually what we need in order to arrest or issue a citation against someone.”

  “I want a restraining order. I don’t want that woman near me. And I’m thinking of suing her for slander. She can’t go telling people things about me that aren’t true.”

  “No, she can’t. What exactly has she been saying?”

  “That I’m crazy,” Harvey shouted. Flecks of spit flew out of his mouth and christened Adam’s desk.

  Adam wanted to tell Harvey it wasn’t slander if the comments were true. Instead he donned a patient face and waited for Harvey to finish. “And that’s all?”

  “No,” Harvey said, opening his jacket pocket and reaching in.

  Adam’s senses tightened. He set both feet flat on the linoleum and leaned forward. His reaction was instinctual, born of years of police training.

  Harvey revealed a newspaper. “See. Right here. Look at this picture. Look at the way the press is slanting their accounts. They’re making me look like I’m fanatical, instead of a crusader intent on protecting our community from that abomination of a book.”

  “Mr. Primm, as a journalist yourself—” though Adam thought that was stretching the truth by a good mile “—you must understand the tone a writer takes is his prerogative. I can’t issue a restraint against Ms. Rose based on the opinions of a journalist in Dallas.”

  “Bull feathers!” Harvey’s voice shook with rage. “This girl is trying to ruin me. Make people in my town think I’m insane.”

  Adam stood. “Now, see here, Mr. Primm. You have no proof Ms. Rose is out to destroy your reputation, and you have no business making accusations against her or this journalist. People have the right to think whatever they wish about you. Nothing I can do about that.”

  His office door crashed open. “Adam, there’s been an accident on Highway 71. State patrol requests assistance. Looks bad. Seven miles out, mile marker one forty-two.”

  “Excuse me, Mr. Primm,” Adam said, grabbing his hat and holster.

  “But—”

  “No time to talk.” He rounded the desk and exited his office. “Call all units, Roz, and escort Mr. Primm out.”

  Roz saluted and picked up the dispatch radio.

  Adam pulled the keys from his pocket and pushed through the front door, glad to be away from Harvey. Glad to be doing something more useful than ticketing people for not picking up dog poop. He never wished for anyone to be in harm’s way, but damned if it didn’t feel good to be useful. He missed this. The adrenaline. The urgency. The knowledge he could make a difference in a life-or-death situation.

  Everything he’d been worrying about—Harvey, his ex-wife, his date with Sophie, the damning tape of him kissing Scarlet and the crazy desire he had for the redhead—disappeared.

  This was what he was made to do.

  And he wouldn’t let anyone get in his way of fulfilling his purpose.

  CHAPTER TWELV
E

  SCARLET GLANCED DOWN the hallway of the Longview hospital, wondering which way the emergency room was. Rayne had called her about an accident that had occurred earlier that afternoon—a car had been hit broadside by a logging truck and the people inside the vehicle had been gravely injured. The mother and her friend had been flown to Shreveport, but the two teenage daughters had been sent to Longview Regional. The two thirteen-year-old girls had non-life-threatening injuries and were stable. A state trooper had called the inn after noticing the Deep Shadows shirt one of the girls had been wearing.

  Scarlet had been going over notes for teaching the acting class when Rayne had popped her head into the room.

  “Scarlet, I have something you need to do,” she’d said.

  Scarlet glanced up. “What? I’m kinda busy working on a few scenes using The Magpie Thief.”

  “There was an accident outside town. Two girls were taken to the hospital. One of them was wearing a shirt from your show, so a state trooper called to ask if you would be willing to visit. They’re not sure if the girl’s mother is going to make it.”

  Scarlet tossed aside her pen and notebook and searched for the flip-flops she’d kicked off earlier. “Wanna come with me?”

  “Can’t. Henry has football.”

  Scarlet found her keys and purse, then grabbed a cereal bar before making her way to Longview. Now that she was here, she had no idea where the emergency room was. She’d followed the signs, but she was lost.

  A lady stood beside a sliding-glass window indicating Scarlet was in Radiology. “Excuse me, could you point me toward the emergency room?”

  The woman, clad in mauve scrubs, turned her head and droned, “Down the hall, take the second right.”

  “Thanks,” Scarlet said, stepping around her.

  “Oh, my gosh!” the woman said. “You’re an actress. I’ve seen you on Ghost Whisperer. No. What was it?”

  Whoever the woman had been talking to inside the office poked her head out the window. “Veronica! Holy sh—” She caught herself, obviously remembering she was in the workplace.

  Scarlet smiled. “Hi.”

  The woman leaned farther out. “I love your show. Never miss it, and I can’t wait for next season. Oh, gosh, you’ve got to tell me. Is Gina really pregnant with a werewolf?”

  Scarlet bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing. “I honestly can’t tell you. It’s, like, in my contract. But let’s just say she won’t need a winter coat for that baby.”

  The woman shrieked. “I knew it! I knew Romero had attacked her in the woods and she’d be forced to bear the shame of a werewolf’s child. Oh, my gosh, I can’t wait to tell Sally.”

  Scarlet shook her head.

  “Not Romero? You’re joking. Who’s the father?”

  Scarlet made the lock-and-key motion over her lips, throwing the imaginary key over her shoulder. “Sorry, you’ll have to watch.”

  The woman in scrubs, who hadn’t stopped staring at her for the entire conversation, finally spoke up. “I can’t believe you have kissed Karakas. Your lips have touched his lips. That’s so sexy.”

  Scarlet stepped back because she was afraid the woman might ask to kiss her in some weird attempt to transfer the effect. If only the woman knew. She’d lanced blisters on the bottom of Stefan’s feet last year after he’d run the Boston Marathon. And the man left used Q-tips around the bathroom. So not sexy. “Um, yeah. If it’s any consolation, he sometimes has garlic breath.”

  Both women laughed.

  “Well, it was nice talking to you. Better find the E.R.”

  She waved as they called out how much they’d liked meeting her. Having fans was cool sometimes…and yet sometimes freaky.

  Scarlet followed the directions and found herself in the middle of the E.R. She headed to the triage desk.

  “Hi. I’m looking for the two young ladies who were brought in earlier from a car accident near Oak Stand.”

  The older man looked up. “You a relative?”

  “Um, not exactly. One of the state troopers called and said one of the girls was a fan.” She glanced around, looking for someone in a uniform. Maybe the guy was still around and could vouch for her.

  “A fan of what?” the man said, narrowing his eyes at her. He took in her T-shirt, shorts and flip-flops before focusing on his magazine.

  “My television show,” Scarlet said, pushing her bangs back and giving the older man a smile. “Deep Shadows.”

  “Never heard of it,” he said, not bothering to look up. “What’s it on? Cable?”

  Scarlet bristled. He made it sound as though her show was a fly-by-night production. Televisions shows on TBS, HBO and AMC were perpetual Emmy winners. Cable had become desirable to even big-name actors. “Yeah, it’s on cable.”

  “Well, if you’re not a relative, I can’t let you in.”

  “It’s okay, Charlie,” a voice said from over her shoulder.

  She saw a burly man in uniform coming her way. His name tag read Barlow. He held out his hand. “Thanks for coming, Ms. Rose. I appreciate your taking the time.”

  She shook his hand. “No problem. I’m glad to be able to do something.”

  Charlie rolled his eyes. “Go on, I guess.”

  Scarlet gave Sergeant Barlow a secret smile. “He doesn’t believe I’m on a television show.”

  Charlie snorted. “I’ve seen the crap on cable.”

  Scarlet sighed. “Okay, where are the girls?”

  “Charlene is in X-ray, but Destiny’s down here. She’s the one who wore your show’s shirt. I didn’t know you were in town, but one of the other officers at the crash site did. He suggested I give your sister a call.”

  Scarlet wondered if it was Adam. The wreck had been close to Oak Stand, so it stood to reason he would be on the scene. “I’m glad you did.”

  “Okay, she’s back here. She’s a little scratched and a lot shaken up.”

  Scarlet nodded and he pulled back the curtain of the emergency-room bay. Lying in the bed was a teenage girl wearing a hospital gown. She had short dark hair and a small elfin face that looked as if it had been peppered with glass on one side. She looked very much alone and scared. Scarlet didn’t have many maternal instincts, but she felt as though she could scoop up the child and hold her in her arms.

  “Destiny?” Sergeant Barlow said softly. “I brought a friend to say hello.”

  The girl shifted her gaze to Scarlet. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything.

  “Hi, Destiny. I’m—”

  “I know who you are,” Destiny said. “You’re Veronica Collins.”

  “Well, I play her. My real name is Scarlet. Mind if I sit with you for a little bit?”

  The girl shook her head. “That would be cool.”

  Scarlet stepped in front of Sergeant Barlow and pulled up one of the chairs sitting in the corner of the bay.

  “I’ll leave you two, if you don’t mind. Need to make some calls,” Barlow said, before leaving.

  “How are you?” Scarlet asked.

  “They think I broke my collarbone. I’m waiting to go up to X-ray. My friend Charlene is there now. She was crying. I think she got hurt bad.” Destiny studied the sheet covering her lower half. She bit her lip and looked at Scarlet. “I don’t know where my mom is.”

  Scarlet knew the girl’s mom was critical. “I don’t know, either. Do you have some other family?”

  “My dad, but he’s offshore working until the end of the week. My brother lives in Galveston. He works at a bank there. I told that policeman to call my gran. She lives in Gilmer.”

  The poor girl looked so terrified. “Hey, they’ll call her. I bet she’ll be here before you know it. Does your shoulder hurt?”

  “Yeah.” Destiny sniffled and tears trembled on her dark lashes. “I’m so scared. What if my mama dies or something? She looked real hurt. She was bleeding bad.”

  Scarlet took the girl’s hand, the one that lay uninjured beside her. “It’s okay to be afraid, Destiny
. I’d be afraid, too. But you’re not alone.”

  The girl nodded even as the tears fell. “Thanks for staying with me. I mean, no one is going to believe that Veronica sat with me in the hospital.”

  “Well, we’ll prove it.”

  Destiny wiped her nose. “How?”

  For once, Scarlet had her cell phone. Since she was a novice driver and not familiar with the East Texas roads, Rayne had forced it into her hand as she stepped out the door. Fortunate because she had Twitter on her phone.

  “Let’s tweet about it, using my account.” Scarlet pressed the bird icon. “That will be your proof. Cool?”

  Destiny smiled for the first time. “Cool.”

  “Now, I’m not real good with this. Should we do one of those little hash-mark things?”

  “I don’t know. Um, how about #atthehospital?”

  Scarlet shook her head. “No, let’s use #destinyisawesomesauce.”

  Destiny giggled. “You’re calling me awesome sauce?”

  Scarlet tapped in the tweet. “You wanna see?”

  Destiny nodded and Scarlet passed her the iPhone. The girl smiled at the retweets and responses from followers. “This is so cool. Oh, wait. Patrick Bailey just tweeted. OMG! He is so cute!”

  Patrick was the youngest cast member. Twenty-two years old, he looked fifteen, so he played her youngest cousin. He’d been on the cover of Tiger Beat magazine three times since the show debuted last October. “He’s funny on Twitter. Do you follow him?”

  The girl shook her head. “I don’t do Twitter. My mom won’t let me have a phone yet.”

  At the mention of her mom, she lowered the device. “Do you think you could find out about my mom? I’m worried about her.”

  Scarlet nodded and took the phone the girl held out to her. “Of course I can. Will you be okay alone?”

  Destiny nodded. Then she sniffled and dragged a thin arm across her nose.