A Different Kind of Man. Suzanne Cox
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back a sigh, she regrouped. “How’s your art class?”
“It’s great.” He brightened considerably and Emalea made a mental note.
“So what’s happening in there?”
“Mrs. Wright is really cool. She’s letting me and Megan Johnson help her paint a mural at the first and second grade building.”
“That’s quite an honor. I told you when I first saw some of your drawings that you had talent.”
Kent played with the hem of his shirt. “I guess my stuff’s okay, but Megan, she’s gonna be a big artist one day. She even works in Mrs. Wright’s shop part-time.”
“Is that the blond girl I saw you talking to last weekend?”
He nodded, staring at the wall just past her shoulder.
“She’s very pretty.”
His bony shoulders rubbed the back of the chair. “She’s Gary Johnson’s cousin.”
Emalea tried not to frown. “Gary still giving you problems?”
“Not so much anymore. He found another kid to stuff in the garbage can.”
“Just remember, guys like Gary have a lot of issues to deal with, too. That tough-guy act won’t get him very far in life.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t think it’s an act.” He glanced at the clock. “I’ve got to go now. It’s time for me to be home. I’ll see you next week.”
She held out her hand to the boy who grasped it, giving a quick shake, before sliding from the chair and disappearing through the door.
The school had scheduled Kent for tutoring in the afternoon, but he actually met with her. A tenth-grader didn’t need the school bully to hear he was seeing a head doctor, as Kent often referred to her.
Kids could be so mean to each other. She knew only too well the whispers, the looks, the cruel remarks. Some you tried to ignore. Others cut you to the bone and sent you off to lick your wounds. Maybe Kent would make it through intact. She had, if you could call her life intact.
For some reason, the idea of her life being intact brought to mind the incident at Sal’s. So maybe the guy wasn’t an ex-con, but she wasn’t interested in his type. Pure animal power had oozed from every pore. The very type of man she’d learned to avoid. She wouldn’t be repeating any mistakes, not her own and definitely not her mother’s, no matter how much the guy kept intruding on her thoughts.
With a snap, she closed her notebook, dropped it into her briefcase and studied her calendar. A psychologist in a town that had one main street and three stoplights wasn’t going to get rich. But making money wasn’t the reason she lived here. Over the past few years she’d established herself with a few businesses in the area that used her as part of their employee assistance program and the paper mill usually sent a number of clients her way. The state prison had also hired her to counsel inmates and conduct psychological evaluations.
She stretched her legs in front of her and leaned her head back against the chair. Sometimes the idea of working at the prison was like a joke, but she’d never actually found the punch line. It was ironic that in all the years her father had been alive she’d never gone to the prison. Now, fifteen years after his death, she went there several times a week. Could she have taken the job if he’d still been living? It was a question she was glad she didn’t have to answer.
One counselor had told her the only way to make a full emotional recovery was to forgive her father. It had been her last visit with that particular therapist. Maybe she could come to terms with what her father had done, but the word forgive stuck in her throat.
She pushed to her feet, smoothed her khaki pants and straightened her black cotton blouse. Too much rehashing of the past wouldn’t do her any good. She had just enough time to get to the search-and-rescue meeting. Briefcase in hand, she locked the counselor’s office behind her.
IN THE SCHOOL HALLWAY Kent paused, breathing heavily, then hurried for the exit and home. Not that he really wanted to go home but some things you just had to do. Talking to this lady would be a big waste of time. She asked questions. He answered. She didn’t need to know anything about his life. He double-checked his watch to make sure he wouldn’t be late. The walk would be a long one. The counselor had said she would wait and take him home after he talked to the head doctor, but he’d lied and told her he had a way home. He didn’t need her at his house, didn’t want her even to pull into the yard. If his dad knew about this, there’d be heck to pay. This whole counseling thing would lead to nothing but trouble and he knew it. He left the streets behind and struck out at a brisk walk along the side of the highway out of town.
“YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE the new guy. I mean, Em, he’s beyond description. I wouldn’t have thought the bald look was so hot.”
Emalea rested her hip on the corner of the younger girl’s desk. Dana had been working at the sheriff’s office since she’d left high school and, even though that had been five years ago, the girl remained as boy crazy as a teenager.
“Have you asked him for a date yet?”
Dana rolled her eyes. “He’s a little too old for me. I’m thinking you can go after him.”
Emalea grimaced. “Gee, thanks. Leave all the old geezers for me.”
“He’s not that old.”
“But you said he was bald.”
Dana put her hands on her hips. “I know what I said. I meant that he’s shaved bald, like by choice, in that male-model kind of way. And he’s got this goatee.” Dana smacked her lips. “Delicious.”
She had to laugh then. Dana was obviously smitten. “Well, lucky me, I get to work with him, don’t I?”
“You sure do. Since you guys are doing that training course for new SAR members.”
Standing, Emalea made exaggerated moves at smoothing her long brown hair. “I guess I better go and meet this wonderful male specimen.”
“They’re all in the conference room.” Dana rubbed her hands together. “I’ll go with you just in case you faint when you see him. I can catch you.”
They both giggled while Dana followed Emalea to the conference room. At the door she stopped to glance around the table. She could feel Dana at her shoulder, pressing her forward. Her muscles froze and her stomach flipped completely then maintained a steady quiver. It wasn’t possible. She’d pulled one crazy stunt and the stupid thing kept coming back to bite her in the rear. The warm brown gaze that locked on her registered shock. Her shaking middle knotted with sheer dread. What was he doing here? He didn’t belong here. He was… He was… Good grief, he was gorgeous.
The sheriff motioned to an empty chair directly across from the man she’d robbed of his motorcycle. “Come on in, Emalea. We’re ready to get started.” When she still didn’t move, he just kept talking. “Emalea LeBlanc, this is Jackson Cooper, he’s our new investigator. He’ll also be working directly with the SAR team.”
Obviously, neither Matt nor Dana had heard the story. But she could tell by the half grins and smothered coughs that they were the only ones in the room who hadn’t. Gritting her teeth, Emalea marched to the chair and fell into it. She peered at the man across the table, her heart pounding, from the shock, of course, not because she was actually seeing him again. Even without the bandanna tied around his head, he was quite an eyeful.
The silence finally penetrated her thoughts, and she realized the whole table was waiting for her to say something. Had they asked her a question? If so, she hadn’t heard it. Her gaze centered on Jackson Cooper and she couldn’t break away.
“You… You don’t have any hair.”
No one even tried to hide their amusement. Probably, this wasn’t her best moment. Even Jackson Cooper grinned. He rubbed his hand over what