The Sheriff's Second Chance. Michelle Celmer
Читать онлайн книгу.
to do this?
Did she have a choice?
The longer she stalled, the later she’d be getting back to work. And there was nothing she hated more than letting people down. Though it was getting to be a recurring theme for her. First she let everyone down by leaving Paradise, then she let down her clients by not seeing the fraud going on right under her nose.
She glanced up at Nate as she slipped into the car, and as their eyes met, his were so cold and emotionless, it was as if he were looking right through her. She’d seen that look before.
Nate rarely lost his temper or even raised his voice—or he didn’t when they were younger. His weapon was silence. And the less he talked, the more she felt the need to justify herself over whatever it was he was upset about, which would usually leave her feeling like the bad guy. Whether it was her fault or not.
Not anymore.
He shut the door and walked around the vehicle. With every step he took, her anxiety mounted. She glanced at her watch. There was no way she would make it back in time for the lunch rush now. Thanks to her carelessness, and foot dragging, everyone else at the diner would have to pick up the slack.
Nate climbed into the car, his eyes cold and hard as he glanced at her in the rearview mirror. Well, she wasn’t so thrilled seeing him again, either. If she had her choice, she would still be in New York, but the money in her savings account could be stretched a whole lot further staying in Paradise rent-free.
She would never forget opening her office door to find the halls swarming with agents from the Federal Trade Commission, and watching in shock as the CEO was led out in handcuffs. Immediately rumors began to fly that the firm had direct ties to the mob and had been defrauding some of its wealthiest clients for years. A virtual pyramid scam.
Suddenly she and her coworkers found themselves thrust into the center of a federal investigation. The CFO had gone missing that day, along with millions of dollars, and still hadn’t been located. Caitie figured that there were two likely scenarios. Either he was on a beach in Aruba sipping mai tais, or had been laid to rest somewhere in Jersey under a concrete slab.
Her money was on Jersey.
Nate was silent for so long, and so still, she wondered if she should check for a pulse. When he did finally speak, the sound of his voice startled her.
“If I let you go now, do you promise to come by the station in the morning and file a report?”
He was cutting her a break? Seriously? She sat up a little straighter as her heart lifted. “Yes! Absolutely I’ll do that. I promise.”
His eyes narrowed. “Eight a.m.? Before I go out on patrol.”
“I’ll be there. You have my word.”
She braced herself for a crack about her word not meaning much to him, but it never came.
“For the record, I’m doing this for Lou,” he told her. “Not you. So don’t forget.”
“I won’t.”
He did a U-turn out onto the road and headed in the direction of her parents’ house. She was getting a free pass and a ride home? This was unprecedented.
She studied his profile as he drove silently down the county road. Eyes forward, lips sealed in a rigid line. From this angle he looked exactly as he had in high school, and she felt a pang somewhere deep in her chest. A sudden longing for the way things used to be. But they were not, nor would they ever be, a couple. She had her life in New York, and he had his in Paradise. And never the twain shall meet.
Not often anyway. In fact, she hoped that tomorrow at the station would be the last she saw of him. She anticipated that the headhunter would call soon with good news and she could go back to New York.
Nate didn’t say a word as he pulled up her parents’ long gravel driveway and rolled to a stop close to the side door. The three-car detached garage was open and her mom’s car was parked inside. Maybe Caitie could con a ride back to the diner from her.
This being the first time she had seen the house in true daylight since she’d arrived, she took a good look around. Was it her imagination or were things looking a little...run-down?
Despite the hours they worked, her parents had always seen that the house and yard were meticulously cared for. Even if that meant hiring one of the local kids to mow the grass. Caitie had been too busy with work and school to do it, and if Kelly had been handcuffed to the mower she would find an excuse to get out of it.
The once white siding on the house had weathered to a dull gray, and the trim around the windows was peeling in places. The front flower beds were dry and scrubby and overgrown, more weeds than flowers. The vegetable garden was in no better shape. She saw only a few straggly plants that looked as if they had come up on their own from seed.
As long as Caitie had been alive, they planted the garden every spring, and in the fall her mom would take a couple of days off work to can the crop. She would put up pickles, relish and dilly beans and several varieties of hot peppers. In the fall they went apple picking at a local orchard so her mom could make sauce. The all-natural chunky kind with no added sugar. Until she was away at school Caitie had never even tried store-bought applesauce. There was no comparison.
She wondered if she could help her parents out by tidying up the yard, planting a flat or two of flowers. Marigolds had always been her mom’s favorite. The front porch could stand a good scrubbing and a fresh coat of paint, as well. As could the siding and the trim. Heck, she might as well paint it all, and totally re-landscape the yard. It would be the perfect project to keep her occupied while she was there. Something constructive to do. She’d always hoped that someday she would have time to explore her creative side. Maybe this was her chance.
She waited for Nate to get out and open her door, but he just sat there, eyes forward, not moving or making a sound. Had he forgotten that she was locked in?
She cleared her throat, hoping to catch his attention, but he didn’t budge. It was as if he’d forgotten she was back there.
After another minute or so, her patience began to wear thin. He knew she was in a hurry. Why would he let her postpone the police report, drive her home, then keep her trapped in his backseat?
If he needed to say something, she wished he would just spit it out.
“Penny for your thoughts,” she said, taking a stab at a little lighthearted humor.
He cut his eyes to her in the mirror, looking anything but amused.
“Or not,” she mumbled.
His expression was so empty, so lacking in emotion, he could have been cast from wax had his mouth not been moving. “I used to think if I ever saw you again, the only thing I would want to know is why. But now that you’re here, now that we’ve come face-to-face, I realize...” He looked back at her over his shoulder. “I don’t care anymore.”
Ouch. Whether or not hurting her had been his goal, that remark cut deep. Not that she had expected him to be miserable, alone and still pining for her, unable to move on with his life. But a girl could hope, right?
She banished that thought to somewhere deep down where it belonged. And having said his piece—short though effective as it had been—Nate finally got out and opened her door.
As she was climbing out, her battered knees protesting with a deep, stinging ache, she heard the side door on the house creak open. She looked over to see her mom standing on the back porch.
In Cait’s opinion, her mom, Betty, was as pretty now as she had been at seventeen, when she won the Miss Denver beauty pageant. She was thirty years older now, and a little bit softer around the edges, but she still had that spark. It had been difficult as a child, growing up in a household with females as beautiful as her mom and sister. No one ever came right out and told Caitie she was aesthetically inferior, but she knew.
Caitie sometimes wondered if her mom ever regretted not doing more with her life. During