The Deputy's Perfect Match. Lisa Carter
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head. “An unofficial investigation only. I’ll nose around. See what I learn.”
Amelia and Caroline exchanged relieved looks.
Honey smiled. “Thank you, Charlie.”
“And if I find nothing suspicious...” He motioned in the general direction of the Kiptohanock library. “You’ll let go of this, and leave the poor woman alone.”
“Why sure, Charlie boy.” Amelia winked at Caroline. “We’ll welcome her with open arms to our little fishing hamlet. Give her the same warm red-carpet treatment we give every ’come here.”
“You do that.” He edged out of the booth. “’Cause I’d sure hate to have to lock three Kiptohanock mothers in the county jail.”
Charlie made a show of placing his hat upon his head. “Not that I’m afraid to arrest the three of you Duers. I’m thinking more about the safety of the other inmates.”
Before the ladies could protest, he threw down enough bills to cover the price of coffee and Long John doughnuts. The lingering aromas of ham, fried potatoes and pancakes followed him across the crowded diner.
He yanked open the glass door in a whoosh of air. With a jingle of bells, he exited the café to do his duty. Which promised to be about as much fun as being Tasered.
Charlie shot a swift look at his watch. He’d have to hurry. No telling when the next call would come from Dispatch.
The cawing of seagulls vied with the sounds of water lapping against the town docks. The scent of brine filled his nostrils as he made his way past the gazebo on the square.
On the wide-planked steps of the brick Victorian that housed the library, he pivoted for one final look at his patrol cruiser in the parking lot of the Sandpiper. Out of habit, he surveyed the town.
The narrow Delmarva Peninsula—composed of portions of Delaware, Maryland and Virginia—separated the Chesapeake Bay and mainland from the Atlantic Ocean. The fishing village of Kiptohanock, Virginia lay seaside.
A white clapboard church hugged the Kiptohanock shoreline. Its steeple pierced the blue sky. Recreational and commercial fishing boats bobbed in the harbor.
Charlie’s gaze skimmed past the post office. The outfitter and boat repair shops. In the gentle sea breeze, flags fluttered outside the Coast Guard station. Emanating from the village green like spokes on a wheel, gingerbread-trimmed homes meandered down leaf-canopied lanes.
Home. It was his job to do everything in his power to protect Kiptohanock and the people who resided here. Including assess the threat level of a librarian?
Charlie removed his hat and grunted. Talk about fool’s errands. Swinging the stout oak door open wide, he ventured inside the cool interior. He waited in the high-ceilinged foyer and allowed his eyes to adjust from the bright glare of the midmorning sunshine to the more subdued lighting of the library.
No one manned the librarian’s desk at the base of the curving mahogany staircase. The cushy grouping of chairs also remained empty. From brief forays on behalf of long-ago high school projects, Charlie remembered that upstairs lay the fiction and science rooms.
He wasn’t fond of books. Nor was the library one of his favorite places. These days, once off duty and motionless, he went to sleep.
But he doubted much had changed in the library after old Mrs. Beal retired a few months ago. Nothing in Kiptohanock ever changed much. Which was exactly why he liked it here.
To the right, the oak-paneled room contained the reference section and a bank of desks topped by computer screens. But to the left, the soft murmur of voices drew him forward. Where he discovered chest-high bookshelves surrounding an open area with a large green rug.
A cluster of kids hunched over a book with a fierce dog on the cover. One of the children turned the page. There were giggles. The blonde child in the center of the group glanced up as his shadow fell across them.
The blonde child passed the book to Caroline Clark’s new stepdaughter, “I didn’t hear you come in.” The blonde rose in a fluid motion.
He blinked. She wasn’t a child. Just a very small, blonde adult. This five-foot nothing waif was the person shadowing the Duer family?
At six-foot-three, Charlie towered over the petite blonde. “You’re the new librarian?”
She tilted her head to meet his gaze. Her wheat-colored ponytail danced across her shoulders. “Yes, I am.”
In a glance, she took him in—from his creased khaki uniform trousers to the tie adorning his short-sleeved summer uniform shirt to his dark hair. And finally coming to rest upon the tan hat he carried in his hands.
Behind her black horn-rimmed glasses, her large blue eyes appeared owlish. Uncertainty flickered. “Can I help you, Officer? Is there a problem?”
He stared at her. The cork-soled wedges. The white denim capris. The fluttery candy-pink top.
This wisp of a creature was the Kiptohanock Stalker? He could probably encircle the librarian’s waist with both his hands and have room to spare.
“Is there a book I can help you find?”
Her voice was soft, as befitted a librarian, he supposed. And sort of sweet.
Charlie realized his mouth was agape. He closed it. “I don’t read.”
Guileless as a child, her sky-blue eyes widened. “Oh... I’m so sorry, but we offer a program for that. I’d be glad to help if you’re willing to put in the time.”
Unlike the Tidewater brogue Kiptohanockians spoke, she had one of those accents from anywhere and nowhere. Thanks to television, like most of America.
Then what she’d said registered with Charlie. And what he’d actually said to her first.
“I didn’t mean I don’t know how to read.” He shuffled his regulation shoes on the rug. “I meant that books are not for me.”
Pink tinted her pale features. “Of course you read. You’re a sheriff.”
In his line of work, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a woman blush. He hadn’t been sure women still did. But the rosy spots of color brought the librarian’s face to life.
She wasn’t wearing makeup. To her credit, maybe she wasn’t a vain woman. She could have done much more with her appearance than she did, matter of fact.
Thank you, Honey Duer Kole, for yet another wild-goose chase. This was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. And Honey was certifiable. The little blonde cleared her throat.
He shook himself. Not like him to blank out. Law enforcement officers were apt to end their careers—and their lives—if not always on the alert. Time to beat an apologetic retreat and get back to real work.
“I’m not the sheriff. I’m just a deputy.” Hat in hand, he turned on his heel and headed toward the door. “Thanks anyway, ma’am. Perhaps another time.”
No mystery nor Mata Hari here.
The front door opened, but something made Charlie glance over his shoulder. In time to see the librarian’s face change. As Caroline Duer Clark crossed the threshold.
* * *
When aquatic veterinarian, Caroline Clark, sauntered into the library, Evy Shaw made herself as unobtrusive as possible behind the desk. Which was not a problem for Evy. She was used to fading into the woodwork.
Or in her case, fading into the bookshelves. She often wore her invisibility like a Romulan cloaking device.
She winced. Best to keep that bit of geekiness under wraps. Her passion for all things Star Trek didn’t exactly cause men to line up at her door.
Nine-year-old Izzie Clark bounced up from the reading rug. “Mom, you’ll love the books I got this week for us to read together.”