Tully stared ahead to avoid Moody’s pity. Occasionally, when his past sprung up without warning, he had to sturdy himself like a boat weathering a squall. Folks didn’t usually make comments about his mother in front of him. He assumed that if her name came up in his absence, it was in passing, included in conversation as a cautionary tale. He could no sooner get defensive with Moody than he could get defensive with a puppy dog nipping at his ankle. The intention meant everything, especially when he knew Moody’s mind was more on Cheyanne and Cody than on him and his own mother.
“Is Cody walking in the parade?”
Moody harrumphed. “He agreed to walk with the soccer team—”
“Soccer team?”
“Karen and I bribed him to try out. We hoped sports would help funnel some of his—” Tully waited patiently, letting the grandfather grapple for his own word “—energy.”
“Teamwork and discipline would be good for him.”
“If he doesn’t get kicked off first. For a while there, he was sneaking out of the house at night, hanging out with his buddies.”
“When was this?”
“A while back,” Moody said, running a hand down the length of his face. “Beginning of the summer.”
“Were you able to remedy that problem?”
“Yes, thankfully. The coach helped with it too. He enforces a strict curfew and expects the boys to stick to it.”
Tully listened, wondering if Cody was invested in the soccer team enough to abide by the coach’s rules. He sure hoped he was.
“He’s a good boy, Detective,” Moody continued. “Karen tries so hard to love on him, protect him—”
“As do you.”
Moody huffed a laugh. “I do my best.”
Tully had parted ways with Moody, appreciative of all the man had disclosed. He’d looked up to Moody since he’d been a boy, considering him a pillar of the community. He’d like the Callahans to become pillars too, but he couldn’t rule out what Ledger had said regarding the new location. The excitement, at least on Ledger’s part, had not been mutual. And what about his frustration when Tully’d first met him. Was his anger directed at his brother, at the town or meant for someone else entirely?
None of his questions were evidence of anything amiss or out of the ordinary. Still, he’d puzzled over them for a spell as Samantha met up with him at the start of the parade route. He’d already watched Cody bunt a soccer ball continuously on his head as he walked with his team. The children standing along the street had cheered for him. Tully wondered how much positive affirmation a kid like Cody would need to make up for the deficit of not having a stable parent in his life. But the children didn’t know any of that and cheered him as if he were a rock star.
The Roseley Fourth of July parade had a reputation for bringing out that kind of excitement in folks. It also had a reputation for offering lots of free swag so clever children attended the parade with a grocery bag at the ready. Dolores Mitchell and her grandnieces passed out packets of tea from The Cutest Little Tea Shop. The Lollipop Candy Store threw handfuls of suckers, scattering them like marbles on the playground blacktop. Patches and Pleats, the local fabric store, passed out refrigerator magnets in the shape of large buttons with their logo in the center. The Midnight Pumpkin, the pottery shop and art studio, handed out coupons to paint a pottery piece for free. Perk’s Pizza passed out mini slices of cheese pizza, the greasy slices soaking through thin paper plates. The Sandwich Board, mini wrapped sub sandwiches; The Spice Trader, tiny packets of grill seasonings; Little Lakeside Sports, lanyards. And dozens of clubs and organizations passed out water bottles, cans of soda, flags, patriotic glow sticks, Popsicles and lots of candy.
At the parade’s conclusion, children had already begun comparing their hauls as moms and dads dipped sticky fingers into the bags, claiming prizes as a parent tax.
Tully joined Charlie near the police station’s table, where Lucy was helping officers pass out free bicycle helmets for kids ten and younger.
“I saw Faith riding in the parade this morning,” Charlie said. “It’s a shame what happened to her shop, today of all days.”
“I know.” He’d seen Faith pass by, but she hadn’t seen him as the crowd had been several people deep.
“I heard a few people talking about her when she rode by.”
Tully growled, “What they’d say?”
Charlie crossed his arms, but his tone was amused. “Whoa. Easy. They said they’d check out her shop.”
“Oh.”
“I hope they do. She needs to get to know people in this town, maybe win them over one at a time.”
“She shouldn’t have to do that.”
“No, she shouldn’t, but that’s the reality of it.”
Tully looked out over the crowd, sandaled feet shuffling in all directions. Red and blue helium balloons bobbed a foot above the crowd as little children stomped in melted pools of Popsicles. A local band, The Hometown Jamboree, cranked the volume on their amps. The jaunty music of their star fiddler set a festive mood. Against the dense heat, the aroma from the nearby hot dog cart took him back to childhood dinners where he and Samantha were left again to their own devices. It made a place in his heart tug, looking for escape.
Lucy bounded over and asked her uncle if he would buy her a tall cup of homemade lemonade. Her fair cheeks, smartly hidden under a white sun cap, had ripened to tomatoes. Charlie reached for his wallet, but Tully waved him off. He needed an excuse to walk, to get away from the smell of hot dogs and all the memories that had been triggered over the past few days.
“Lead the way, Ms. Lucy,” he said. “I could go for some lemonade myself.”
They had no sooner slugged back their lemonades, Lucy scooping her straw at the sugary sludge at the bottom of her cup, when Tully felt a tug at his elbow. Miss Jenkins held up her lemonade, ceremonially tapping her plastic cup to his.
“I hope you’re both staying cool today,” she said, peeking at Tully from under a wide-brimmed hat. By the look of it, she was wilting more quickly than a daisy under a heat lamp. Tully handed Lucy money for another round as Miss Jenkins waved a fabric fan in front of her face. As she favored dresses from the 1950s, the shin-length skirt of her patriotic dress swished as she swayed. The tiny white and silver stars on it glittered in the sun.
Growing up, Tully had usually focused more on her scent of pressed powder, somewhat like what his mother had worn. Then again, he thought, shaking the ice at the bottom of his cup, perhaps he had only wanted the scent to be similar. Maybe he had only wanted something else to hold on to back then.
“Did you catch the entire parade?” he asked. The apples of her dewy cheeks rounded.
“My air-conditioning went out last night, so it doesn’t matter if I come to the parade or stay at the shop. I melt either way.” She fanned herself harder.
“Do you have someone coming to look at it?”
“Yes, but not until tomorrow.”
Tully’s protective instinct shifted into gear. “Would you like me to stop by this afternoon? I don’t know much about air-conditioning units, but I can take a crack at it.”
“You’ve always been so good to me, Tully, but, no. The fella from the company is coming out in the morning. With the holiday I’m so thankful he even answered the phone. I can make do until then.”
“It’s a bad time to have it go out. If the maintenance man can’t make it out tomorrow, give me a call.”
“Thank you, dear,” she said, waving to Dolores, who darted through the crowd toward them. “That reminds me. I meant to stop down to Faith’s store earlier. Dolores said she was in good spirits.”
“She’s hanging in there.”
“Do you have any leads on a suspect?”
“I’m circling.”
Miss Jenkins patted him affectionately on the arm. “Of course you are.”
“I’ve meant to. I’ll get around to it once I get this air-conditioning problem resolved. If it’s not a maintenance issue with the shop, it’s one with the house.”
Dolores arrived as Lucy returned with the lemonades. Tully handed his to Dolores, who was likely much too hot to refuse.
“Bless you,” she said, taking several gulps. She turned to Miss Jenkins and lowered her voice. “I thought I’d find you over here. I overheard Dash Callahan asking around about your antiques shop.”
Miss Jenkins’s face crinkled instantly. “What did he want to know?”
“How long you’ve been in business, and if you were looking to get out anytime soon.”
“Geeeet out?” Miss Jenkins’s voice warbled more syllables than the rules of language allowed.
Tully had figured that Dash and his sister would eventually find one another, each a homing beacon to the other’s desire for adventure and attention. So, it was no surprise when he spotted Samantha laughing loudly with the antiques dealer. Ledger, however, was no where in sight.
“I’m sure he meant to say retire,” Dolores said, comforting her friend. Miss Jenkins drew a handkerchief from her dress pocket and patted her forehead. “I think he’s on his way over here though. Would you like to hit the road?”
Miss Jenkins nodded. “Thanks for the lemonade, Tully,” she said before hurrying off through the crowd, her loyal friend at her side.
* * *
TRIG HELPED FAITH hang a giant blue tarp over her broken window. She’d taken anything of value out of the shop and stored it in Uncle Gus’s garage.
“Just when I think I’m finished unpacking...”
Trig leaned against the door frame.
“This is a minor setback, you know.”
“How do you figure?”
“You’ll get the window replaced, throw a little paint on it and only be a couple of days behind. In the big scheme of things, a few days of waiting isn’t bad. It might feel like the end of the world now, but this will pass.”
“You sound like Caroline.”
“We’re both glad you’re here, Faith. Don’t let this spook you into...”
“What? Quitting?”
“Leaving.”
Trig prized perseverance at nearly all costs as the next big sports story waited for no journalist.
“I appreciate you coming home to Roseley to support me, Trig. I know you usually don’t like to take time off work.”
“Who said I haven’t been working?” His smirk teased but Faith knew Trig’s working vacation was still a loving gesture. She appreciated his presence more than she could convey.
“It’s funny how things worked out this week, huh?” he said. “The three of us under the same roof? We could have some killer parties like the ones I wanted to throw back in the day. I could have rivaled Garners’ parties if Dad had trusted me long enough to get out of town for the weekend.”
She thought about what she would have been like at a high school party: meek, timid, self-conscious. Faith chuckled. “From what I’ve heard, no one could have rivaled the Garners.” She knew she wasn’t one to talk as she’d never attended one of the Garners’ famous parties, but she’d overheard enough conversations from her classmates to have a clear picture.
Her cell phone vibrated in her back pocket. Reaching for it, she discovered Kyle’s cell number on her caller ID.
“Is it him again?” Trig asked. “He’s been calling you all morning. Let me answer it.”
Trig waggled his eyebrows comically, bringing a giggle to her chest. She shook her head. If she and Kyle hadn’t been able to solve their problems while married, they certainly wouldn’t be able to solve things now. Trig’s involvement, though possibly amusing to watch, would only fuel Kyle’s persistence. She shoved the vibrating cell phone in her back pocket as Caroline arrived.
“I passed out a handful of your business cards,” she said.
“Where?”
“The Nutmeg Café. A group of motorcyclists were having dinner out front. I asked if anyone was interested in a new detailing shop in town, and they all said they were—”
Faith’s phone vibrated again in her pocket. She pulled it out and frowned.
“I don’t recognize the number.”
“Answer it,” Caroline said. “It’s probably one of those bikers.”
Faith pressed the phone to her ear. “Hello? I mean, Heart Motorcycles. This is Faith.”
A woman’s voice on the other end of the line wanted to get a quote. She had arthritis and wanted to hire Faith to detail her trike. Faith soon hung up, buzzing with excitement. She had scored her first client who might even become a recurring customer.
“Starting a business is a slow-moving train,” Trig said. “But referrals and word of mouth will help. It’ll pick up.”
Booking her first customer was exciting, but Faith wouldn’t feel like she belonged until she was cleared of all suspicion too. She watched the sun sink behind the stores. She felt certain that tonight she would spot the person responsible for the vandalism. Even if she couldn’t snap a photograph quickly enough or prove who it was, she would know. More than anything, she wanted to know.
Her phone vibrated again. It was Kyle.
“Excuse me while I take this,” Faith said, ducking into her shop to speak in private. “What on earth do you want, Kyle?”
The voice on the other end of the line crackled with laughter. “Is that any way to speak to your husband?”
“Ex-husband. It was official ages ago.”
“Against my wishes.”
“What do you want, I said.”
He cleared his voice. “I heard you were opening your shop today, and I called to wish you congratulations.”
Faith shuffled across her shop and back again trying to decipher Kyle’s tone.
“How did you hear that?”
“About your opening? Was it a trade secret or something?”
“No, but—”
“But you didn’t think we could still be friends, is that it? Faith, I only wanted to see how your opening went.”
She paused, running a hand through her hair. She didn’t want to lie, but she also didn’t want him to know anything about her life.
“It went fine.”
“Did you get a lot of new clients?”
“I’ve had several bites.”
“Good for you.”
“Thanks.”
She was waiting for the other shoe to drop because where Kyle was concerned, there had always been another one.
“What did you end up naming your shop?” She brought fingertips to the dainty gold heart charm resting on her clavicle. “Let me guess,” he continued. “Heart Motorcycles.” His delivery made her store name sound like a punch line. His voice was a hundred miles away yet still so mocking in her ear.
When she’d first told him she wanted to open a shop one day and name it Heart Motorcycles, he’d said no biker would ever take their motorcycle to a shop called that. He’d said she couldn’t run a business by herself. He’d said a lot of things she’d not soon forget. But she’d try.
Faith ended the call, cutting off Kyle’s laughter. It brought an abrupt silence to the empty space.
“Faith,” Trig called, poking his head through the doorway. “We’re going back to the house. Caroline wants to have a few people over to watch the fireworks so I’m picking up drinks on the way. Are you still staying here tonight?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Are you sure you want to do that? Caroline wants to introduce you to a few people.”
“I have to, Trig. I don’t expect you to understand—”
“Nah, but I do,” he said. “I’d be the same way.”
After he le
ft, she glanced at her phone, vibrating in her hand. This time it was a text message from Tully.
I’ll be there in an hour.
She smiled to herself. “It looks like my plans for tonight just got upgraded.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
TULLY CARRIED A soft cooler of drinks and snacks up the fire escape to the roof of Heart Motorcycles. There he found that Faith had already scoped out their best vantage point of the street and had set up two camping chairs. She’d already thought of binoculars and blankets, though the humidity of the day would take a long time to dissipate, if it even did.
Dusk had already been tucked to sleep. Against the backdrop of the clear night sky, a million stars, like glitter scattered over a black canvas, blanketed the town. It was a good night for fireworks and for sitting quietly.
Faith smiled up at him from her chair as he settled into the seat beside her.
“When we talked earlier today, I wasn’t sure you’d show,” she said.
“Neither was I.” He’d thought the idea of a stakeout had been ludicrous when she first mentioned it, but the events of the day had shifted his perspective enough to give the stakeout a shot.
He eased back into his chair. “I don’t have any new leads, and I want this finished. Maybe this stakeout idea of yours is just wild enough to work.”
“Oh, it’ll work.”
“Is that so?”
“It has to. I want this finished too, you know.”
He had been thinking about her over the past few days, and about how different their experiences in town had been. Everyone had always rooted for him and for his success as if he’d been their son too. Everyone had known Faith just as long but by no fault of her own, they had looked at her like a stray cat who’d wandered in from the gutter. It made him understand why she sometimes scratched back at people. She’d been wounded first, deeply.
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