Two bites into the perfect T-bone, Dixie sat back in her chair. Grill master and great-looking. Her mouth watered. Hello Lily Rock.
She pretended to cut away another bite of steak, but her eyes drifted toward the grill. When he stopped chatting with the doc and Skye, she dabbed at her lips, readying herself for his approach.
Holding a plate with steak, baked potato, and broccoli, he nodded to the table. "Mind if I join you?" he asked.
"I'd expect nothing less," she said brightly. "I didn't catch your name."
He folded his well-built frame into the chair across from hers, placing the plate in front of him on the table. "Michael Bellemare," he answered.
"Don't tell me you are a permanent Lily Rock resident," Dixie scoffed. "It doesn't seem like your kind of place."
"What do you think my kind of place would look like?" His eyebrows raised.
Proud of her ability to size people up, she jumped right in. "You're big city. Probably New York or Chicago. You make yourself comfortable wherever you go, but your home isn't here in this small town."
Mild surprise crossed his face. "And you're not an insurance person either," he said, watching her for a response.
She glared back at him. I'm not going to defend my cover. I don't want to blurt out unnecessary lies that I have to remember later. She poked at the meat to give herself time to reassess. "I've done some work in insurance. But I'm here for other reasons." She'd gotten good at telling partial truths. She'd learned this technique at the academy, while interviewing suspects who asked too many questions.
"I believe you." Without further comment he cut into his steak. It oozed blood.
"You have a deft skill when it comes to grilling," she said dryly.
He chewed as if thinking of a response. When he raised his eyebrows again, she giggled. Get your flirt on, Dixie. Now reel him in.
He gazed at her, his eyes warm, his expression open. He kept his glance to her eyes and mouth. Go ahead. Look at my chest. I'm rocking this tight sweater. Go ahead. Then I know that you want what I want, nothin' more. No long-term commitment or presents on your birthday. Unless of course today is your birthday…
When he cut another piece of meat and still hadn't spoken, she tried again. "I saw a bar in town earlier. Called Lola's. You know anything about that place?" Take my cue. Now you can ask me out for a drink.
He took a bite of baked potato. "I'm here on business as well, and I've got a commitment tomorrow morning. A rich woman found my name in an architectural journal and then asked me to design her house. Plans are finished and permits set. We're ready to break ground."
So no drink at Lola's. She hid her disappointment by turning her face down to her plate again. With Lola's off the table for tonight, she asked another pointed question.
"Meadow said this was a committee grill night. If you're not a full-time resident, how did you get invited?"
"It's been a year since I moved to Lily Rock for this job. One thing led to another. I met a few people. I had no intention of getting involved in the town politics, but I had problems getting building permits through their system. Without an official town council, I had to court a group called the Old Rockers."
"Just heard about them."
"My design isn't…" He paused and swallowed.
He looks surprised. Maybe he doesn't usually talk that much to strange women. That's because he's putty in my interviewing hands. She sent him a go-on look.
"Let's just say my design is not that usual in Lily Rock. It's taken longer than I'm used to just to get this project up and running."
Before she could ask another question, a man approached. "Am I intruding on your conversation? he asked.
"Have a seat, Arlo," Michael said. "Meet Dixie Jones. She's here on business." He winked at her.
"I'm in insurance," she quickly added.
Arlo chuckled. He pulled a chair over, then set his plate next to Michael's. "I don't need insurance. My husband handles all of our finances."
"Except for the new pub," Michael corrected him.
Arlo nodded. "That's true. I'm responsible for all aspects of the new brew pub. I answer to Doc, even about the construction of the new building."
"Did I hear my name?" The doctor came closer to their table. Dixie was aware that he'd been listening to their conversation. He came up next to her, and she felt the heat of his body at her back. When he touched her shoulder in greeting, she shrugged him off.
"On the subject of bars. I saw Lola's. Will your new brew pub be cutting into their business?"
When no one answered her, she tried again. "Why don't you take over Lola's instead of building an entirely new structure?"
Doc patted her shoulder, apparently unfazed by her rebuff. "You don't know Lily Rock, my dear. Arlo and I see great potential in a brew pub. It's taken a while but now that Michael Bellemare, the famous Chicago architect, is in town, we thought we'd hire him to create a design that would bring younger, more hip tourists up the hill."
"And serve the people who already live here," Arlo added. "They're welcome too."
"Maybe Lola's will go out of business." Dixie watched Arlo’s and Doc's faces to see if she'd figured out their unspoken plan.
Bingo. Arlo was the first to look uncomfortable. "Doc is the only Old Rocker who sees how Lily Rock is changing. He and I have a vision for what the place could be. Lola's doesn't have to go. They serve a different clientele.”
So they want to bring new people up the hill with a brew pub, but I wonder if they want police presence as well… That may be the rift that's caused the anonymous requests for police presence.
She turned her gaze to Michael. "So you are a big city famous guy. I knew you weren't from here."
A slight flush rose up his neck. He lifted his hand to brush back a stray piece of hair that had fallen over his eye. "I guess I am famous. To some people. But it's my father who runs the architectural firm. I'm a little splash, he's the tsunami."
Oh stop. Humble too. This guy is too much. She took inventory of each man's face again. I think I've asked enough questions for now.
"I'll be right back." Dixie stood to her feet and walked around the table to dump her plate in the trash. She came back to the table, leaning over to whisper in Michael's ear. She thrust her cell phone into his hand and said, "Put your number in my contacts and I'll text you so you'll have my number too. That way you can call me before I leave town."
He took her phone, a sheepish grin on his face. He added his number and handed it back to her.
"Merry Christmas, Michael Bellemare," she said, sliding the phone into her back pocket. On her way toward the kitchen, she heard Dr. May’s voice call out, "Do you want my number?"
"I'm good," she hollered back.
Once inside the kitchen she found Skye and Meadow sitting at the oversized table. Meadow rubbed her temples with both hands. "I hope you liked the food," she said. "Planning for the tree lighting is getting rather hectic."
“We're missing an important decoration for the ceremony tomorrow," Skye explained.
"Hopefully not the lights," Dixie added brightly.
"No, dear," Meadow said. "We're missing the baby Jesus. I usually store our life-sized figurine in the shed out back, with the creche and the statues of the wise people and the shepherds."
"Wise people? I thought they were men."
"Oh, we're very open-minded when it comes to gender identity in Lily Rock," Meadow explained offhandedly.
Who do you think you are, Los Angeles? She looked back and forth and concluded aloud, "No baby Jesus. Maybe you'll have to cancel the event."
Skye glared at her. "We formed a committee to search for the baby. If that doesn't work we can always bundle up a bunch of hay, wrap it in a blanket. It's just a shame we can't find the old statue. It looked at lot like Sage when she was a baby. That sweet smile."
Meadow nodded her agreement.
"Must be a sentimental loss. I get that."
"Yes, it is. But things change." Meadow sighed deeply.
"Maybe we need more police protection now that Lily Rock has gotten so big." Skye looked at Meadow as if asking for an affirmation.
Meadow quickly said, "No police. The Old Rockers still handle things. We're not giving up our privacy because someone misplaced an old ceramic baby Jesus."
Bingo. Maybe it's Skye who sent the request for police presence. She seems more concerned about crime than Meadow.
* * *
Later that night, when Dixie returned to her room, she reported to the captain about what she'd learned.
He explained more about the emails. "It's not just a missing statue. Someone has been sending in reports about other things, more sinister suspicions. Drugging animals at the local shelter. And then the presence of bikers every weekend. Have you looked into any of those problems?"
"I did see the bikers." Stifling a yawn, Dixie rolled over in bed, keeping the cell next to her ear. "I tried to bring up Lola's at dinner, but the men didn't bite. Told me about a plan for a new brew pub. There was some mention of serving a different clientele, but no direct comment about the bikers."
"One more day, Dixie Jones!" the captain barked. "Then you're back with a full report."
"Yes, sir." She stifled another yawn.
Once she set her phone on the nightstand, she rolled on her back and closed her eyes. Then she opened her eyes with a start. A quick glance at her phone brought a sigh. No messages.
Everyone else calls him Michael. Not me. Tonight I'm going to be dreaming of Mike Bellemare. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome…