Chapter 32

Peggy threw The Western Independent in the trash can. Was it immature to want to ball up the page with Maven’s hotel plans and stomp on it?

She booted up her computer. There had to be some way to stop him. His assistance to Keith had made him the town’s hero. The conflict between gratitude and gall warred in her tight chest. She tapped the computer keys, logging into her police background software.

As she worked, she thought about her father, coming home drunk and broke from a spontaneous trip to Atlantic City. She refused to allow other families to be destroyed because of gambling. Her fingers keyed in her search. When the doorbell rang, she tucked the laptop away and headed downstairs.

Her conscience felt like a snake slithering down her spine when she saw Jill. She was trying to undermine her friend’s plans.

She flung the door open. “Hi, there.”

“Hey, you feeling better?” Jill asked, wiping her feet on the rug.

“Getting there. Come on in.”

When Jill walked into the family room the hitch in her gait gave her away.

“Someone’s had a whole bunch of sex,” Peggy commented.

Her friend’s head whipped to the side. “Wait. How did you know?”

Peggy snorted. “I know a prostitute walk when I see one. Close your mouth. I’m used to watching suspects. Prostitutes who’ve been well used have a walk.”

Jill immediately stopped walking. “Well, thank you very much.”

“No need to get your panties in a twist. Although you probably haven’t been wearing them much. Having fun?”

Her grin called to mind giant sunflowers. “Yep.”

“Then enjoy the prostitute walk. It’s not like you got arrested or anything.”

Jill tucked her arm through Peggy’s. “Right, nothing illegal. Just hot sizzling nights of sex after—”

“Please, don’t make a single mom cry. I’m sick. And I haven’t had sex in…I am so not sharing.” She tapped her temple. “Must be the cough medicine. I’m babbling worse than a first-time offender.”

She almost rushed to clean up. Kleenex puffed out of the waste basket like popcorn. The heating pad’s orange light shone on the couch. Her place could be called The Sick Zone. After a moment she gave up, and settled onto the couch, patting the cushion next to her.

“I’m heading back to work tomorrow,” Peggy said. “Thank God. This Kleenex could be made of silk, and it would still hurt. I’m hoping there’s a scuffle or something at Hairy’s bar. I want to cuff someone.”

“That’s pretty sick.”

“You make lattés. I arrest people. It’s what we do.” She put the heating pad on her chest. “And you’re sleeping with a hot guy, while I’m left with this for warmth. How sad is that.”

Sitting cross-legged, Jill put her hands on her knees. “I want to talk to you about something.”

Uh-oh. “What?”

Jill rearranged Keith’s books on the coffee table. “Would you go to PolarFest with me? I need moral support.”

Phew. Nothing serious, and nothing to do with the hotel. “I don’t like parties.”

“Please. It’s the biggest party in Dare since Halloween.”

“Are you going to tell me the real reason?” Peggy said gently, reaching for a Kleenex. She wished she could do without a nose. At this point, she’d have it removed if it would stop running.

Jill sat on her knees. “Okay, Brian asked me to go. He’s helping out, but you know how angry I am with Pete, who’s going to be hosting. I need to take Mac to mingle with the professor set. And I need to go with Brian, because he’s still Pete’s friend.” She held up a hand when Peggy opened her mouth. “I’d like to have all my friends around me.”

“Jill.” She let her voice break down her friend’s walls.

Jill rocked in place. “And okay, this will be the first real party I’ve been to since Halloween. I don’t want to be thinking about that night.”

Finally. Peggy sighed. “Okay, but you’d better not be asking me so you can set me up with Maven.”

A goofy grin broke across her face. “Do I look like Cupid?”

“I can see you wearing a diaper and wings.”

Throaty laughter bubbled out of her mouth. “Why, thank you. It’s a lifelong dream, shooting people with arrows.’”

Peggy threw the tissue aside and missed the waste can. “I’m the one who likes to shoot things.”

“I’ll only say this once. Mac’s more than easy on the eyes. And his voice. Margie almost has an orgasm every time she hears him talk. She’s spilled more coffee this week than—”

“I’ve got the drift. But you need to leave it alone. I don’t think he belongs in this town.”

Jill’s mouth twisted. “Fine. Keep telling yourself that.”

“I hope our different views…” Peggy pushed the heating pad aside. “Don’t screw up our friendship.”

“My family has always managed it. I don’t see why we can’t.”

She reached out her hand. Peggy grasped it. “So we agree to disagree?”

“Yep.” Jill stood up. “I’m going to go wash my hands now.”

“Now I know how a leper feels.”

“Haha. I’d hug you, but…Eww. Germs.”

“Germs are like radiation. You’ve already been exposed by being in this room with me.” She started hacking to mess with her.

Her friend’s full-body cringe made Peggy fight a grin. “Yuck, thanks for the image. I’ll be sure to wear a Haz-Mat suit next time I visit. Thanks for agreeing to come, Peg. It means a lot.”

Peggy coughed into another Kleenex. “You’re welcome. Just don’t meddle with Maven and me. If you do, I’ll have to arrest you for your prostitute walk, and then you won’t be able to keep having hot sex.”

“The horror,” Jill replied, dancing out of reach. She headed out, strutting her prostitute walk the whole way, making Peggy laugh.

She headed up to her office to resume her investigation of Maven. The water she’d poured coated her dry throat as she pulled open her laptop and scanned his background. When she only saw one criminal charge years ago, she almost snarled. Why couldn’t he have a rap sheet as long as her arm? That would have helped. She clicked on it. Well, well. So, he’d been charged for assault and battery, but he’d found a way to weasel out of it. Why was she surprised? Time to find out why.

She called Atlantic City’s police department. The arresting officer didn’t remember anything, but he dug out the short case file and read it to her over the phone. Maven had apparently beaten up some rich kid so bad he’d been hospitalized, but he’d refused to explain his reasons. The family had pressed charges after their son was hospitalized, but they had dropped them a few days later without saying why. When she hung up, she set the phone down and tapped the arm of the couch. Was it enough? She’d be skating an ethical line.

But he couldn’t bring poker to Dare. No one here understood what that meant, how it changed families, increased alcoholism, domestic and random violence, but she did.

She’d used this because the ends justified the means. Everyone in town needed to be reminded of gambling’s darker side, and this incident would throw Maven’s reputation into the muck. It might be enough to shift public perception toward him. She needed some seriously concerned speculation from the town, especially the councilmen and women. Did she spill everything now or wait for the vote? No, he was as slick as a lobbyist. If she put this out now, he’d find a way to spin it.

Better to inform the paper she had something on him and then announce it at the town council meeting. If law enforcement had taught her one thing, it was that the mere speculation of guilt could tarnish a reputation.

She picked up the phone to call The Western Independent.