Forever...Again. Maureen Child
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Collins gave her a quiet smile, and she forced herself to return it. He seemed a nice enough man. Tall and broad-shouldered, his gray eyes were always calm and steady, as if he could reassure people with a simple glance. And maybe that worked on most people.
However, it wouldn’t be working on Lily. Bryce Collins was going after Mari. Making it seem to the people of Binghamton that she was actually guilty. And from what she’d heard, he should have known better. Mari and Bryce had been as good as engaged several years ago—until Mari had gone off to medical school.
And maybe Bryce was just nursing a grudge, but whatever his reason, it seemed ridiculous to Lily that he could suspect a woman he’d once loved.
“Was driving by. Saw you kick that pot,” he was saying in a soft, amused tone. “Figured you might want a little help moving it.”
Lily stared at him for a long minute. Across the street, the Johnson boys were still snapping caps, the sharp, staccato bursts of sound like an overgrown clock ticking off seconds. Kevin’s lawnmower hummed in the background, and at the end of the block a car engine revved. A perfectly ordinary summer day.
Except for the fact that she had the town Sheriff offering to play landscaper.
“Shouldn’t you be out arresting Mari or something?” she snapped and instantly regretted it. Antagonizing the man was not the way to win him over to the truth.
Bryce’s gray eyes narrowed, full lips thinned into a grim slash across his face. A muscle in his jaw twitched.
“I’m sorry,” Lily said quickly, lifting one dirt smudged hand to smooth her hair back from her face. “I tend to say whatever I’m thinking and, believe me, that’s gotten me into a lot of trouble over the years.”
His expression didn’t soften. “Can’t imagine why.” Sarcasm dripped off every word, and Lily winced.
“Right. Look.” She took a step forward, ignoring the ache in her toe. “You seem like a nice, intelligent, reasonable man…”
“But?”
“But—” Lily threw both hands high and let them slap down to her thighs “—I do not understand how a reasonable man could possibly suspect Mari of anything criminal.”
“Ms. Cunningham, I’m—”
“Lily.”
He caught himself, nodded and said, “Lily. I’m not going to discuss an ongoing investigation with you. That’s police business.”
“Investigation.” She snorted the word. “That you should be investigating Mari at all is criminal.”
He tensed and that muscle in his jaw twitched again.
“Fine,” she said, “we won’t talk about it. But you should be doing some serious thinking, Sheriff.”
Finally, a flicker of amusement crossed his face. “Is that so?”
“Yes. You should be thinking about who would want to make Mari look guilty.”
Amusement fled, and once again his gray eyes were steady and cool. He met her gaze for a long, silent moment before he said, “Trust me, ma’am. I’m doing a lot of thinking.”
Lily watched him closely. There was more here than met the eye. Despite how it might look to the rest of the town, Lily now had the distinct impression that a large part of Bryce Collins knew damn well that Mari wasn’t involved in the drug ring. His problem was, she guessed, that being sheriff, he was forced to run down every possibility.
Whether he believed it or not.
Lily nodded slowly, took a deep breath and then let it out again. “Okay, Sheriff,” she said softly, “I will trust you.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “Thanks.”
“For now,” she added, just so he would know that if she thought he was barking up the wrong tree again, she’d be right there to tell him so.
He smiled and gave her a look of approval. And Lily thought that once this whole mess was behind them, she and Bryce Collins might be able to be friends.
“So,” he said. “You want some help moving that pot?”
They might have their differences, but Lily was no dummy. Why turn down a big, strong man when he’s offering help? “You get that pot up onto the porch—and the matching one, too—and I’ll pour iced tea.”
“You’ve got a deal.” Bryce walked to the first pot and stared down at the rioting petunias. “Look real pretty, don’t they?”
“Yes,” Lily said on a resigned sigh. “But that’s only because they don’t realize just how close death is.”
“Does anybody?”
“Guess not,” she said, shivering as a small chill crawled along her spine. “I’ll go get that tea.”
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