The House on Main Street Page 6

  “Does that mean you didn’t put out an APB yet?” Please, God . . . anything but that. In a community the size of Apple Valley, she’d never live it down.

  “Gertrude sounded more pissed off than worried.” He crossed the room in two quick steps and slid into the booth across from her, a carryout cup of coffee in his hand. “I figured it was more likely you’d run away than gone missing, and there’s only one place open this time of morning.” He smelled like crisp winter air and pine needles, the scent reminding her of home.

  Or what she’d always wanted home to be.

  Wood-burning fires on chilly evenings. Hot coffee and good conversation. Gertrude’s house had always smelled like cigarette smoke and stale perfume. Tess couldn’t remember what Gretchen’s place had smelled of. Probably pot and alcohol.

  “They do have the best coffee in town.” She took a sip and smiled, because talking to Cade had always been easy and comfortable. When so many other things in her life had seemed to chafe, he’d fit. Nothing had changed about that.

  “And the best pumpkin doughnuts.” He snagged one of hers and bit into it.

  “Hey!” He’d also always annoyed the hell out of her. Apparently that hadn’t changed, either. “That’s mine!”

  “You were going to eat both?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Liar.” He polished off the rest of the doughnut and wiped his hands on a napkin. “So, why did you run away from home?”

  “I didn’t run away. I went for a jog.”

  “It’s kind of early for a jog, isn’t it?”

  “Not when Gertrude’s around,” she muttered, biting into the second doughnut before Cade could. The guy had always loved sweets. Apparently time hadn’t changed that. It hadn’t made his eyes any less blue, either.

  They were like a dusky summer sky, clear and deep all at the same time.

  “What were you two arguing about this time?” Cade took a long sip of coffee, eyeing Tessa over the rim. She’d pulled her hair into a messy ponytail, and curly strands stuck to her temple and forehead. Obviously, she had been jogging, her long-sleeved T-shirt clinging to toned biceps and pert breasts that he knew she hadn’t had when they were kids.

  Damn! She really had grown up.

  “Alex. The house. My existence.” She picked a chunk off the top of her doughnut and popped it into her mouth. “I finally decided that I needed a little air before I did something that would get me thrown in jail. And, for the record, I told Gertrude that I was going for a jog.”

  “She mentioned that.”

  “Then why did you come looking for me?”

  Good question. He hadn’t even been on duty when Gertrude called his home phone. As a matter of fact, he’d barely been awake. He’d headed over to the Riley place anyway. “Curiosity, maybe.”

  “Now that your curiosity has been satisfied, feel free to leave.” She polished off the rest of her doughnut and took a gulp of coffee. A small crumb stuck to the corner of her mouth. Right at the edge where it curved into a smile.

  He brushed it away, his fingers trailing over lips that had never looked kissable when she’d been Emily’s kid sister.

  They looked it now.

  “You’ve changed, Tess,” he said, because he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it.

  “It would be weird if I hadn’t.” She brushed a few crumbs from the table, her cheeks pink. She’d left town without as much as a good-bye. Just packed her old Mustang and drove away before dawn the day after Christmas.

  The day that he’d planned to propose to Emily.

  He never had.

  He regretted not saying good-bye to Tessa more than he regretted not marrying her sister.

  “You still play hockey in the street when it snows?” he asked.

  He wanted to see her smile again, see that quick curve of her lips and catch a glimpse of the kid she’d been. Remind himself that she wasn’t a gorgeous woman who just happened to have walked into his life.

  She was Tessa, and he’d missed her more than he’d thought. More than he’d ever acknowledged.

  “I gave that up when I moved to the East Coast. Not enough ice and snow.” She tucked a strand of deep red hair behind her ear. “I’m sure you don’t spend your winter afternoons passing a hockey puck to your buddies.”

  “Not to my buddies.” He’d spent plenty of afternoons passing them to local kids, though. The town didn’t have much for teenagers to do during the winter months. Running a local kids’ club kept the teens out of trouble and him from having to haul their butts into jail.

  “Let me guess. You spend every Saturday afternoon shooting hoops or pucks with a group of juvenile delinquents. Isn’t that what your father always called the boys’ club crowd?” She finally smiled, her eyes sparkling the way they had when they were kids and shared a joke at someone else’s expense. “And didn’t you swear that you’d never waste your Saturdays working with a group of thankless kids?”

  “Yeah. Well, Dad retired and decided to move Mom to Florida. Someone had to take over. It was either going to be me or Hannah Miller.”

  “The cheerleading coach?”

  “She retired five years ago.”

  “And wanted to coach boys’ basketball and ice hockey?” Tessa laughed. “She was ancient when we were in school.”

  “Now you see the problem. Ms. Miller would have turned the boys’ club into a knitting club, and then I would have had a dozen teenage boys out on the streets looking for trouble.”

  “So you had purely selfish motives, huh?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “There goes your bad-boy reputation.”

  She plucked invisible lint from her down vest, slid her hand over the tabletop. No ring on her finger. He’d heard that she was in a serious relationship and that it had ended badly. Couldn’t remember who he’d heard it from. Probably Ida.

  “And my Saturday afternoons,” he responded.

  “I’m sure every blue-haired lady in town worships the ground you walk on because of it.”

  She flashed a smile and stood, stretching her lean arms and rolling her neck. She wore black leggings that showed off the long, lean muscles of her thighs and calves, and he couldn’t quite stop himself from noticing.

  “They’re not the ones I’m hoping to impress,” he joked.

  “So, you’re doing it to impress the ladies, huh? Clever.”

  “Not ladies. Just one beautiful redhead who could never quite keep up with my athleticism.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “I really doubt you spent more than a half a second thinking of me during the past ten years.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” He stood and followed her out of the coffee shop, not quite ready to let her go.

  “Nothing.” She shivered and rubbed her arms. “It’s freezing out here!”

  “I think we already determined that you’re a weather wimp.”

  “I’m not a wimp. I’m just—”

  “Shaking violently from the cold?” He took off his coat, wrapping it snugly around her. She smelled like a spring day. Flowery and warm with just a hint of rain.

  His gut tightened in response, his hand itching to reach for her. He almost gave in to the temptation. He and Tess had been about as close as two people could be without being family or lovers. That was a long time ago. She’d changed. So had he.

  But, damn, if he couldn’t shake the image of her in his arms, nestled close to his chest, her fingers grazing his abdomen.

  She watched him through narrowed eyes. As if she could read his thoughts, knew exactly where his mind had just gone.

  “I’d love to stay and chat awhile, Cade, but I have to get back. Alex almost went looking for Emily this morning. I caught him walking down the hall in his coat and snow boots. I want to make sure he’s okay before he heads off to school.”

  Cade’s heart rate upped a notch at the thought of the ten-year-old wandering around Apple Valley in the dark. The crime rate in town was about as low as
it could get, but that didn’t mean predators didn’t lurk in the shadows. “He knows he’s not going to find her, right?”

  “Yes. Maybe.” She sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know. He’s smart, but he doesn’t communicate much.”

  “I’ve heard that.”

  “I guess people around here don’t have much to talk about if they’ve turned to gossiping about a ten-year-old boy.” She pulled her hair from its ponytail, scraped it back up again.

  “You sound bitter.”

  “Not bitter. Just . . . resigned to spending the rest of my life in a tiny little town in the-middle-of-nowhere Washington.”

  “Ouch,” he said without heat. He loved Apple Valley, but not everyone was made for small-town living. Darla certainly hadn’t been.

  “I didn’t mean that quite the way it sounded.”

  “Then how did you mean it?”

  “I didn’t plan to be here, Cade. I have a job and a life in Annapolis. This”—she gestured toward the businesses, all of them glittering with Christmas lights and tinsel—“is beautiful and quaint, and maybe I even missed it a little, but it’s not going to pay the bills.”

  “What bills?” he asked, but she took off his coat and handed it back to him.

  “I really do have to get going. You buy the doughnuts next time!” she called as she sprinted east on Main.

  He could have followed. He even wanted to. He didn’t, because he’d tried the relationship thing with Darla. It hadn’t worked out. If he’d learned one thing from his marriage to her, it was that women complicated things, and he didn’t need complications.

  Right now, all he needed was a refill on his coffee before he headed into the office. Once he got there, he’d forget all about Tessa and her long, lean legs and sweet, sweet smile. He’d forget that he’d spent the night alone in bed. Again. He’d forget how empty his house had felt after he’d been with Tessa’s little family.

  Yeah. Coffee. Work. That’s what he needed.

  But maybe he needed a little bit of Tessa, too. Reconnecting with an old friend didn’t have to be complicated. He was pretty sure he could keep it from being anything but what it was—fun and easy.

  Sure you can, Cunningham. Just like you can keep the sun from rising and old Zim from complaining, he thought wryly as he walked back into Murphy’s and got ready for the day.

  Chapter Five

  “So, what kind of bills do you think Emily and Dave Riley had?” Cade asked Ida as he poked at the mystery meat that lay like gray-brown mush in the center of the plate she’d just handed him. Ida liked to think of herself as Apple Valley’s version of Mayberry’s Aunt Bee, the benevolent housekeeper and cook and caretaker who delivered meals to the sheriff at the local prison. Only she couldn’t cook worth shit, and if Cade ate what she’d just brought, he’d probably be puking his guts out for the rest of the day.

  “Now, how would I know a thing like that?” She settled into the chair across from his, resting her elbows on the glossy surface of his desk.

  She knew something.

  Of course.

  Ida knew just about everything about everyone in Apple Valley. Mostly she kept her mouth shut. Which is how she’d gotten the title of mayor fifteen years ago. She’d kept the title by holding her tongue when other people didn’t. Cade respected that, but sometimes he wanted to shake the truth out of his grandmother.

  This was one of those times.

  “The same way you knew that Sandra Anderson was going to leave her husband before she did. The same way you knew that Ham Perkins was beating that little boy of his. The same way—”

  “I knew that you and Darla weren’t meant for each other?”

  “That, too.” He put down his fork and looked straight into Ida’s dark brown eyes. There were more wrinkles around them than when he’d been a kid. A little more droop to the lids, but they hadn’t lost any of their sharpness. “What do you know, Gran?”

  “Why do you want to know?” she responded. “I think that’s the better question. You haven’t said one word about that family in a decade. Now, suddenly, you’re interested. Why?”

  “Because it’s my responsibility to know what’s happening in this town. If people are struggling—”

  “You’re the sheriff. Not the local Red Cross.” She tapped her fingers on the desktop and gave him the look she’d perfected long before he was born. The one that said spill it.

  “No, but Zimmerman Beck is up in arms about the property again.”

  “What Zim needs is a woman in his life. Ever since Elizabeth died, he’s been impossible.” Ida tugged at the edges of her bright red sweater and fluffed her white curls. “And what you need is to just tell me the real reason why you’re suddenly so interested in the Riley family.”

  “I’m not.” True. Very, very true. He was interested in the McKenzies. One McKenzie in particular.

  “You’re interested in Tess, then. Not surprising. You two were inseparable in grade school and middle school. I never could figure out what you saw in Emily when little Tess—”

  “How about we just stick to the problem at hand, Gran? Zim wants the place cleaned up or he wants Tessa cited and fined.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “The place is a pigsty, and it has been for years. I’m surprised you haven’t done anything about it before now.”

  “There hasn’t been a complaint until now.” Cade tried to keep a lid on his temper. “Do you think Tessa and Gertrude have the money to pay a cleanup fee and fine?”

  “That’s a good question. One that, as mayor, I should probably get an answer to.” She stood, smoothing wrinkles from her black skirt. “I think I’ll go over and have a little chat with Tessa. I saw her at the funeral, but it wasn’t the time to really discuss her plans.”

  “Gran—”

  “Relax, Cade. I won’t mention your name. I’m just going to feel them out a little, try to see if they need any help without stepping on Gertrude’s toes. It’s possible that the Rileys had enough insurance to cover all the therapy bills—”

  “What therapy bills?” Cade followed Ida to his office door.

  “Raising a child like Alex is expensive, Cade. Anyone with a brain in his head would realize it.” She took her green wool coat from the hook on the wall and handed it to him. “You know what I’ve noticed?”

  “What?” he muttered as he helped her into the coat.

  “People have a lot to say about the mistakes Emily and Dave made, but no one seems to talk about what they did right. When it comes to Alex, they did everything they could, everything possible.” She patted his cheek, her palm dry and warm. “Now, I’m sure you want to enjoy that nice meal I brought you, so I’ll leave you to it.”

  He had no plans for the meal except to dump it, but he didn’t say that to Ida. “You didn’t just come to bring me mystery meatloaf, did you?”

  “No. Of course not. But you seemed distracted. I thought I’d better wait to bring up the Christmas gala.”

  “Gala?”

  “Party.”

  “I know what a gala is. I’m just wondering why we need to discuss it. The town council hosts one every year.”

  “I know, but this is the hundredth anniversary of the very first town Christmas party.” Ida pulled on a pair of black gloves and hiked her purse up on her shoulder. “Daniel and Miriam Riley hosted that party, and the way I’ve heard it told, a better party has never been had in this town. This year, we should top it. Have everyone dress in period costumes, have old Christmas—”

  “Gran, you know this isn’t my kind of thing, right? Shouldn’t you be discussing it with the council?”

  “I already have. We agreed that it’s a wonderful idea, but we need a few young men to help set up the town hall. I thought it might be a good job for your boys’ club.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thank you, dear. Tell the boys we’ll need them the Friday before C
hristmas. Maybe you can get a few of your friends to come along, too.” She smiled and walked into the hall, obviously satisfied that she’d accomplished her goal.

  And, of course, she had.

  Trying to stop Ida was like trying to stop the tide. Didn’t matter how much a person wanted to, he just couldn’t hold her back once she got started on something.

  He sent a quick e-mail to the boys’ club members, dropped the mystery meat into the trash, and lifted one of the sticky notes that Emma had left on his desk while he’d been out on morning patrol. There were four others. He grabbed them all and tossed them on top of the meatloaf.

  “I saw that,” Emma said from the open doorway.

  He waved her into the office. “We have more important things to worry about than the mess at the Riley property.”

  “Like what? Angus Grim’s lost donkey?”

  “Is it missing again?”

  “I’m afraid so. What that man needs to do is get a stronger gate,” Emma said wearily. There were circles under her eyes, and her hair hung limp around her pale face.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Just tired. And I’ve about lost patience with Zimmerman Beck. He called again.” Emma slapped another sticky note down on Cade’s desk.

  He tossed it into the garbage with the rest of them. “Give him a call. Tell him that I’ll be there at four, and we can discuss the situation then.”

  “Will do, boss. Do you need anything else?” she asked.

  “A cup of coffee?” he suggested.

  She scowled. “Get it yourself. I have better things to do.”

  Cade laughed as she turned away.

  Despite her mousy appearance, she had a backbone. No way could she have survived being raised by her father if she hadn’t. Sherman wasn’t the kind of guy people wanted to be around. Not in good times, and not in bad times. He was damn lucky that his youngest daughter was willing to put up with him.

  Cade grabbed his keys and coat, feeling only a little guilty for going out for lunch when Ida had provided a plate of food.

  He walked into the station’s reception area, waving to Emma as he crossed to the door. Watery sunlight shone through the front windows, and he could see a half a dozen people walking toward Riley Park. Even in late November, with ice glazing the surface of the pond, the area attracted locals and any tourists who happened to find their way to the tiny picturesque town.