CHAPTER FOUR

      JOSH SLAMMED into the kitchen Saturday morning, startling Piper into splashing liquid over the rim of the hummingbird feeder. But then Josh slammed everywhere these days. He seemed to always be in a hurry. And she was preoccupied.

      “Good morning, Josh,” she said over her shoulder, feigning calm she was far from feeling. Anger at her father had kept her up most the night. She didn’t want him anywhere near her or her son. But how could she keep them apart? Josh worshipped his grandfather—a man whose soul had been blackened by dishonesty. Not a good role model.

      “You aren’t ready,” Josh said with eleven-year-old angst and flung himself against the counter.

      The bicycle helmet on his head sent her stomach plummeting. She and Josh rode every Saturday she didn’t have to work unless it was pouring rain. Why couldn’t it have rained today?

      Her mind raced. They could hardly tool around town and then calmly have breakfast at the diner with her father the way they had in the past. Not without her pretending everything was normal, and not without running the risk of bumping into Roth. She wasn’t eager to see either man at the moment.

      Searching her brain for an excuse that Josh would accept, she capped the feeder and rinsed the sticky solution from her hands.

      “Grandma asked me to set up the hummingbird feeders. The birds usually come back around the first of April. After I finish I thought we’d drive into Raleigh for a movie.”

      “There’s nothing good playing, and I told Will I’d go with him to check the trotlines later. If we catch any catfish, can I eat dinner with him? His mom’s fried catfish is the best!”

      “Last week you said your grandfather’s fried catfish was the best. And you’ve been begging for new shoes.”

      “Oh, man. Do we have to do that today?”

      “I have time today. Next weekend the clinic’s open on Saturday. I’ll have to work.”

      “What about breakfast with Grandpa?”

      “He can eat without us.”

      And tomorrow she’d have to figure out somewhere else she and Josh could go where they’d be unlikely to encounter either of the men on her Dislike list.

      Josh stubbed the toe of his sneaker into the tile floor. “Okay.”

      “Call Will and tell him about your change of plans.”

      “Will has a cell phone.”

      She welcomed the old argument—anything to keep her mind off the ache in her heart. “You’re eleven. You don’t need a phone. Besides, you know I can’t afford one for you right now.”

      He shuffled out of the room, his slouching shoulders revealing his lack of enthusiasm over spending a day with his mother. She’d try to make it up to him by letting him have lunch in the mall food court. There were no fast-food joints in Quincey.

      One potential disaster averted. For now. That left tomorrow to rearrange. She wasn’t sure how long she could cocoon Josh before he figured out something was wrong. But what choice did she have? She wanted to avoid Roth as long as possible.

      Avoiding him could prove expensive if she had to keep carting Josh out of town for extracurricular activities. But if she was lucky, Roth would run out of patience with Quincey before she ran out of money and ways to dodge him.

      * * *

      THE BELL TINKLED with obnoxious cheer above Roth’s head as he let himself into Ann Marie Hamilton’s real estate office on Saturday morning. Her assistant, the same woman from twelve years ago, sat behind the desk acting as gatekeeper. He couldn’t recall her name.

      Her automatic smile slipped when she recognized him. “May I help you?”

      “I need to talk to Mrs. Hamilton.”

      “May I tell her what it’s about?”

      Fishing for gossip. Typical. “I can do that myself.”

      The woman bristled, her round face turning red to the dark roots of her dyed blond hair, and Roth realized he’d better try harder to cover his irritation with busybodies if he wanted the populace to be cooperative and to look out for his mother after he left.

      “I’m interested in rental houses.”

      “Doyle’s apartment not good enough for you?”

      Snide witch. “It’s fine. Short term. But if a man wants to put down roots, he needs something more permanent.”

      He was blowing smoke out his ass since he had no intention of staying in this godforsaken town one day longer than necessary, but he’d have to do plenty of evasive double-talk during his dealings with Ann Marie if he wanted to pump her for information about Piper.

      “A rental’s still a rental.”

      Enough. “Is Ann Marie available?”

      “I’ll check.” The woman rose, slowly strolling the three steps to the open office door then paused. “Roth Sterling would like to speak to you about rental homes. Do you have a moment?”

      As if Piper’s mother hadn’t overheard the entire conversation and the parking spaces outside her building weren’t empty. Moments later Ann Marie appeared. She looked exactly as he expected Piper to look in twenty years or so. Only unlike her daughter, Ann Marie was dressed for success, her face and chin-length hair immaculate. Piper had always dressed for comfort and preferred to keep her hair out of the way.

      Twelve years ago he’d stolen countless hairclips so he could run his fingers through Piper’s golden strands—especially when they’d made love. Those long locks had felt damned good dragging across his skin. The memory sent a rush of heat through him. When he’d packed his bag for boot camp he’d left all the clips and bands behind. What had his mother done with the stolen treasures?

      “Good morning, Mr. Sterling.”

      Mr. Sterling? He’d find more warmth in a polar icecap than her voice, and her forced smile didn’t fool him for a second. “Mrs. Hamilton. I see you’re still the only real estate agent in town.”

      “I am. Come in. Have a seat and tell me what you need.”

      Her office was girlie, decorated with flowers, pale colors and delicate furniture that made him wonder if the pieces could hold his weight. He gingerly lowered himself into one of the fragile-looking chairs.

      “I’m interested in leasing a house preferably with an option to buy in a neighborhood with people my age, like Piper.”

      “Piper lives with me. Our neighborhood is quite diverse, but there are no rental properties.”

      “She’s back at the old home place?” And back under Daddy’s heavy thumb?

      “No.”

      That raised a few questions. “You and the chief moved?”

      “I moved. Lou did not.”

      Piper’s parents had split? More questions wrestled for priority. Not wanting to put Ann Marie on the defensive, he reined them in. “I noticed a few new houses when I drove around town—on Roth land.”

      “Your mother sold parcels, I’m assuming to support herself? But I can’t be certain.”

      He linked his fingers in his lap and kept his mouth shut since he didn’t know the answers to her questions. He’d learned in the course of his career that a silent stare often loosened lips.

      “You moved into your apartment two days ago. What about