Still Waters. Shirlee McCoy

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Still Waters - Shirlee McCoy


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was doing a fair job of berating herself. He didn’t need to add wood to the fire. Instead he stood and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll call animal control and have them bring the dog to the SPCA.”

      “Animal control? Forget them, I’ll take care of the dog. What we need is the police. Why aren’t they ever around when they’re needed?”

      “Actually, ma’am, I’m the police.” Jake offered the woman a hand, clasping her slender fingers and pulling her up as he introduced himself. “Jake Reed. County Sheriff.”

      Heat stained her cheeks, bringing color back to her too pale face. “I’m so sorry, Sheriff Reed. I thought you looked familiar, but without a uniform—”

      “Don’t worry about it.”

      “I hope I didn’t offend you.”

      “Not at all. This has been an unsettling experience. I don’t blame you for being upset.”

      “Being upset isn’t a good excuse for being rude. I am sorry.” She tried to smile the apology, but it fell flat, the curve of her lips not reaching her eyes.

      Eyes, Jake noticed, that were amazing. Deep green, shimmering with flecks of gold, and fringed by thick, dark lashes, they were striking against the woman’s alabaster skin. For a moment he felt caught in her gaze, compelled to keep looking. Then she spoke and the spell was broken. “I hope you find the people responsible. They need to be held accountable for their actions.”

      “I agree, Ms….?”

      “Oh, I’m sorry. Tiffany. Tiffany Anderson.”

      Tiffany. Jake had known one other Tiffany in his life. She had been petite and blond. A cheerleader, if he remembered correctly. The woman before him was more substantial. Long-limbed and well curved. Womanly in a way that some might consider out of style. Personally, Jake preferred it to the boyish look of today’s fashion models. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t in the market for any kind of woman.

      Relationships were for people with the time and patience to indulge in them. Jake had neither. He’d learned that the hard way and had no intention of repeating the mistake. He’d get the dog and Tiffany Anderson home safely and get back to the first day of his vacation. The sooner he did both, the better. “Do you need help to your car?”

      “No. Thanks. I walked.”

      “How about a ride home?”

      At his words, Tiffany’s eyes widened. “Home? Oh, no! Brian’s waiting for me at the diner.”

      “Brian?”

      “My boyfriend. I was supposed to meet him for breakfast.”

      “Becky’s Diner, right?” It was the only diner in town, one Jake had become familiar with in the year since he’d moved to Lakeview.

      “Yes. Poor Brian. He must be worried sick.”

      Jake didn’t comment. Another lesson he’d learned young—people who should care, often didn’t. He didn’t say as much to Tiffany, just nodded and pointed to his truck. “I can give you a lift. The dog can ride in the back if you can get him to move.”

      Worry eased from Tiffany’s face and her mouth curved into a half smile. “Thanks. That would be great.”

      She wiped a hand across her forehead, brushing away moisture that dripped from her hair. Jake’s gaze followed the movement, his eyes tracing the arch of Tiffany’s brow, the curve of her cheek, and the stubborn point of her chin. She had an interesting face, one made almost beautiful by velvety skin and a dash of freckles across her nose.

      Maybe she’d seen him before, but Jake was sure he hadn’t seen her. If he had, he wouldn’t have forgotten.

      “Do you think he’ll come if I call him?” Tiffany’s voice pulled Jake from his thoughts and he forced his gaze away from the alluring woman beside him.

      “He looks pretty comfortable, but it can’t hurt to try.”

      Tiffany let out an ear piercing whistle. “Come here, dog. Here doggie, doggie.”

      The dog lifted his head, but didn’t stand. Jake figured the mutt was more interested in resting than moving. “Tell you what. You get in the truck. I’ll take care of the dog.”

      “Maybe if I knew his name I—”

      “Trust me. The dog isn’t going to budge, no matter what you call him. Come on. Your boyfriend’s waiting.”

      And so was Jake’s vacation, but he decided not to mention that as he ushered Tiffany to the pickup truck.

      Tiffany sat in the cab of the old Chevy and wondered how her day had gone so bad, so fast. All she’d wanted was an hour with Brian. A quick morning jog so they could touch base and discuss a few things that were on her mind. Instead she’d gotten a near death experience and a chance to ride in the sheriff’s pickup.

      Tiffany grimaced, imagining Brian’s face when she walked into the diner, soaking wet and escorted by an officer of the law. At least the man wasn’t wearing a uniform. Not that it would matter. People in Lakeview knew one another. And they liked to talk. A lot.

      With a sigh, Tiffany glanced out the window. The dog and the sheriff were having a standoff. One determined to move toward the truck, the other just as determined to stay put. Finally Jake leaned down and grasped the dog under its belly, lifting him from the ground with an ease that surprised Tiffany. She watched as he walked toward the truck, his stride long but unhurried, as if the hundred-pound dog were no weight at all. She supposed that had something to do with the bulging muscles of his biceps and the wide, toned breadth of his shoulders. As if sensing her gaze, Jake glanced in Tiffany’s direction, his blue eyes dark and unreadable. Tiffany’s heart did a little flip of awareness before she had the presence of mind to turn away.

      Physical strength, stunning good looks—those things might appeal to some people, but not to Tiffany. Brian’s lanky runner’s frame and boy-next-door looks were pleasant but it was his dedication, faith and intelligence that had drawn Tiffany to him.

      If the sparks didn’t fly when her eyes met Brian’s—well, that was to be expected. They weren’t living a romance novel and they weren’t teenagers experiencing the bliss of their first love. Brian was everything Tiffany had asked God for—more—and she was thankful. Really.

      “All set.” Jake appeared at the driver’s side door and slid into the truck cab, his shoulder brushing Tiffany’s as he buckled his seat belt and started the engine.

      It didn’t take long to drive to Becky’s Diner and neither Tiffany nor Jake felt compelled to speak during the short ride. Tiffany wasn’t sure of the reason for the sheriff’s silence. Hers was due to fatigue and worry. She eyed the parking lot as Jake circled it for the second time. Cars were crammed close together, bright sunlight reflecting off their hoods. Even the overflow area was packed tight with vehicles, a result, Tiffany knew, of summer’s arrival.

      During the hot months of June, July and August, seasonal residents and tourists flocked to Smith Mountain Lake for recreation. The small, tight-knit community Tiffany had grown up in swelled to twice its size, and the diner’s normally adequate parking lot filled to overflowing. Most times, Tiffany didn’t mind the inconvenience. Today she was in a hurry, and prayed a parking spot would open soon.

      As Jake circled the parking lot for the third time, Tiffany’s gaze wandered across the rows of cars. Where was Brian’s Saturn? He’d picked her up at home this morning and driven to the diner—the starting and finishing point of their four-mile run. Now his car was gone.

      “I don’t see Brian’s car. I hope he didn’t go looking for me.”

      “Want me to go in and ask for him?” Jake spoke as he maneuvered the Chevy into a vacated parking space.

      “No. I’ll go in myself. Do you mind waiting with the dog? I’ll get him when I come back out.”

      “No


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