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The door to the stationhouse stuck as Carter walked in. It was yet another thing to add to the list of irritations he’d had to endure over the past two days. Putting his shoulder into it, he bulled his way inside. Steel scraped against linoleum, letting out a piercing shriek. Nancy Watkins, his trusty administrative assistant, jumped at the sound, and Bill Raikins came right out of his chair.
“Chief Landry!”
“You’re back.”
Bill glanced at the door. “I take it the task force meeting didn’t go so well.”
“No,” Carter said. “It didn’t.”
The door stuck again as it tried to swing shut. He gave it a shove, and the bottom corner left a darkened layer of smudge against the floor. “When are we going to get this thing fixed?”
Nancy already had a phone to her ear. “I’ll get Ernie over here right away.”
The owner of the hardware store doubled as Shadow Valley’s fix-it guy. Carter took off his sunglasses and ran a hand over his face. Too bad his other problems couldn’t be solved so easily. “Thanks, Nancy.”
She smiled. “You’ve had a long week, chief.”
Yes, he had.
He headed to the coffee pot. With a sigh, he slipped his sunglasses in his shirt pocket. It was tough to judge how long the sludge had been sitting there, but he reached for a cup anyway.
It felt good to be back. He’d spent the entire day yesterday in hell. Actually, it had been Concord, but who was counting?
He took a long drink of the bitter liquid and turned to his office. One glance at the far wall nearly changed his mind. The state map, dotted with colored pins, hadn’t changed since he’d left. And it probably wouldn’t at the rate things were going. Not even a swig of caffeine was going to help with that.
“So what happened with the task force?” Bill asked as he wove his way through the maze of desks.
The muscles at the back of Carter’s neck clenched. “Not much.”
“Really? What was the problem?”
“Too many people trying to play king of the hill.” He rolled his shoulders and tried to get the kink to pop. Just thinking about it got him riled up. “State officials were tangling with the local police and sheriff’s departments. Everybody’s trying to either cover their asses or take control. It was like side business that we still have two escaped convicts out there on the loose.”
Bill scowled. “Have they narrowed down the search area for Smith and Morton at all? Is Fleiss talking?”
Carter stared into his coffee and watched the swirls go around the cup. “Those are good questions. In fact, they’re better than most I heard all day. You’d think we would have talked about something like that.”
“You’re kidding me. You guys didn’t get anywhere?”
“I would have made more progress from here.”
“But the governor appointed you to that committee. Couldn’t you take over or something?”
Carter let out a harsh laugh. “Don’t even think about wishing that on me. Besides, I’m just a small-town police chief. What do I know?”
Bill looked poleaxed. “But we caught Fleiss. Why aren’t they listening to you?”
“Apparently, we just got lucky.”
Irritation flared in Carter’s gut, and it warred with the caffeine he’d just poured down his throat. Politics. He hated when they got in the way. Just because he and his staff weren’t dealing with major crimes on a daily basis didn’t mean that they were any less competent than the big-city cops. He’d put his people up against those clowns on the task force any day.
He looked at the map on his office wall. The color-coded pins marked the locations where the prison escapees had been spotted. The blue ones ended in Bernardston, a town close to the state’s western border, where they’d assisted in tracking down and arresting Jack Fleiss. Red pins followed Smith’s progress, but the green ones worried Carter the most. The green pins were Clive Morton’s.
“It’s been a week,” Bill said. “They could be anywhere by now.”
Carter eased his weight onto the edge of his desk. “You and I might be the only ones who realize that.”
“What about that retired FBI guy from Boston? The guy the governor appointed head of the task force?”
“Boston.” Carter grunted. He’d had it up to here with Boston. He’d spent more time than he could stand at a meeting run by that idiot, and then there’d been that reckless driver just outside the town limits. His tired mind did a stutter step. That smokin’-hot reckless driver... but a Bostonian nonetheless.
“The FBI guy is one of the biggest problems,” he said. “He should have stayed retired.”
“So what’s our plan? Do we need to be more proactive?” Bill asked.
Carter wiped the vision of the blonde from his mind. “No change. Everyone keeps an eye out for anything unusual. Pay particular attention to the back roads, and make sure anything even a little off is investigated. That’s as much as we can do. Like you say, they’re probably not even in the state anymore.”
“But you don’t think that.”
Carter looked at the pins. Call it gut instinct, but he didn’t.
The escapees had no money, no known means of transportation, and no shelter—but Fleiss had made it as far as Bernardston. If the three of them had stuck together, it made a few recent robberies suspicious. A car had been stolen in Bernardston, and an all-night diner had been knocked over in Northfield. He just had a sinking feeling both incidents should be marked with a red pin. “I’d put money on Smith being nearby.”
“That leaves Morton still out there.”
“He’s gone to ground.” That was what worried Carter most. Tough guys were easy to handle. Smart guys were another thing entirely. He had no doubt that Morton’s IQ was double that of the Boston FBI twit. The guy was cunning and ruthless and, so far, he hadn’t made a mistake.
But he would.
“One of these days, he’s going to have to come up for air.” Carter set his coffee cup down on his desk. Damn, but he wanted to be there when that happened.
He turned away from the map and sat down in his worn, old chair. Frustration gnawed at him, but he had a police station to run. With a little more force than was necessary, he hit the power button on his computer.
Bill lingered near the doorway. “Why don’t you just go home for the rest of the day, chief? Nancy and I can handle things here.”
“And face even more paperwork tomorrow? Yeah, that sounds like fun.” The moment the words were out, Carter realized he was snapping at the wrong guy. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry. Yesterday didn’t go as well as I would’ve liked, and today hasn’t been much better. Hell, I nearly ran our latest resident out of town. Why didn’t somebody tell me we have a newbie in the Calhoun place?”
“They’re here? I saw a moving truck the other day.”
“Not they. She.”
Bill paused with one foot out the door. “A woman?”
Having somebody new in town was big news... almost as big as having three convicts escape from Concord. But a woman? Forget about it. News of this was going to spread like wildfire.
“You heard me.”
“Single?”
“Apparently.” She’d asked him to call her miz. He might have been in a lousy mood, but he hadn’t missed what that tidbit meant.
“What do you know?” Bill paused as he considered the possibilities. “Are we talking hot, young babe or retired bingo player?”
“Young.” And hotter than a pistol. Carter scowled when his mouse pointer stuck. Was nothing going to work for him today? He jiggled the mouse, and the pointer jumped halfway across the screen.
Bill just wasn’t going to make it out the door. “What’s she look like?” he asked.
Carter knocked the mouse against the table, but that helped about as much as using a sledgehammer on a straight pin. Finally, he gave up and turned the mouse over. He took out the batteries and opened his drawer to look for fresh ones.
What had Ms. Callie looked like? She looked like heaven, pure and simple.
He was always careful during traffic stops, but he hadn’t been prepared for what lay in store for him when he’d walked up to her car. She’d looked up at him with that tangled blond hair and those deep brown eyes, and he’d felt a solid kick in his gut.
Bill let out a whistle. “Wow, she must be something.”
Carter ground his teeth together. “She’s something, all right. She’s reckless. When I first spotted her, she was driving without any hands on the steering wheel. It was like she thought she was on a roller coaster or something.”
He blew out a breath. He didn’t know why she’d gotten him so worked up. When he’d come across her, he hadn’t been able to figure out what he’d been dealing with. She’d been acting so erratically. First there’d been the hand-waving incident. Then she’d stopped on the side of the road and sat for a spell. When she’d then started to drive and the speedometer had just kept climbing, he’d decided it was time to stop watching and do something.
Bill rounded the desk to look at the computer screen, and Carter nearly swore. He shouldn’t have pulled up the ticket. Bill’s eyes darted back and forth as he read the limited information. Carter couldn’t stop him with his mouse on the fritz. Besides, his officer could just go back to his own computer and pull up the ticket.
That didn’t mean Carter liked having him look at it.
“A silver Mustang?” Bill put a hand over his heart. “We’ve got a live one on our hands.”
Carter felt the twinge in his shoulder. He couldn’t blame the guy. There weren’t that many single, available women in Shadow Valley, and this town hadn’t seen a woman like Callie Thompson in a long time. He doubted Boston had seen many women like that.
If only she hadn’t tried to sweet-talk him...
Irritation surged all over again. Her smile and her routine had been so polished that he’d automatically known she’d used them before. Frankly, to feel that kick and then realize the smile could have been for anyone in a uniform had been a letdown. Worse, it had ticked him off, effectively ruining her chances of getting off with a warning. If that hadn’t done it, seeing her list of prior offenses would have. The woman was a regular speed demon—and a speed demon from Boston at that. Giving her a ticket had been a distinct pleasure.
Bill lowered himself into a chair, too intrigued to realize he should be leaving. “Why did she choose the Calhoun place?”
The Rutger house was less than a block away from Bill’s apartment. Carter hated to disappoint his officer, but honestly, he was kind of happy that she wasn’t moving into the rental. On the other hand, the place she was taking could be worse. “She inherited it.”
Bill’s head whipped back. “No way.”
“That’s what she says.”
“Does she know?”
“I don’t think so.”
Carter snapped the mouse back together and ran it experimentally over the mouse pad. At last, it decided to behave, and he opened the file that Nancy had marked as priority.
Bill sat back in his chair and balanced it on its hind legs. He wasn’t ready to let go of the new girl thing—or the fact that she was moving into the most infamous house in the north county area. “Somebody’s bound to tell her.”
And that was when the real trouble would start.
They’d had nothing but bad luck with the residents of 1255 Highland. The rumors that swirled around the place made people a little nutty. Carter’s staff had been called out to that house at least once a week when the last family had lived there. Once people got something into their heads, it was hard to convince them otherwise. “I’m hoping things will be different this time.”
Bill let out a snort. “Good luck with that.”
A phone rang out in the bullpen, and the front legs of the officer’s chair came down with a bang. Carter turned back to his computer as Bill went to answer the call.
His officer was probably right. Gossip, after all, was a tag-team sport in Shadow Valley. Once people found out that Callie Thompson had moved into the Calhoun house, they’d be climbing over one another to tell her the stories that surrounded the place. Nobody seemed to care that the gossip didn’t hold an ounce of truth. People were always trying to outdo each other, and the stories grew every time they were told. If she heard those rumors before she settled into the place, the mind games were bound to begin. Then the distress calls would start again.
Carter pushed the mouse aside. Maybe he should just step in now and head off the inevitable. With the task force, the search for the escapees, and normal town business, he didn’t have time to go running out to the Calhoun house every time Ms. Callie heard things go bump in the night.
Then again, bumping in the night with her could have other distinct advantages...
Hell. He wiped a hand over his face. That woman was going to be more trouble than she was worth; he could tell already. It was those big eyes of hers. Not to mention that sassy mouth...
Nancy poked her head into his office. “Ernie said he’s busy with a patron right now, but he’ll be down later to work on the door.”
Carter sat up straighter. “Great. Thanks, Nance.”
It was time to get his head back into business. Business that didn’t include a blond firebrand. “What did I miss yesterday? Is there anything important I need to know about?”
“Stephanie Evans and C.J. Carlson had a fender bender in the grocery store parking lot, and we had to bring David Hughes in again. Alice Gunthrie caught him snooping around the tool shed in her backyard.”
Carter closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. The news about the Hughes kid wasn’t really news at all. He was one of those types that just couldn’t seem to stay out of trouble—or wanted to. “What was he doing there? Did Alice notice anything missing?”
“No, we just got him for trespassing this time.”
Carter shook his head. “That kid is headed straight for juvie.”
Nancy folded her hands together. She was a sweet woman with a heart of gold, but she also had a backbone of steel. “If this time doesn’t do it, the next one will.”
It was a foregone conclusion that there would be a next time. With David Hughes, there always was. Carter sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I’ll drop by and have another talk with him.”
Nancy shook her head ruefully. “You’re not going to get through to him. You know he won’t listen.”
“Yeah, but I have to try. When they go back through his records, at least we can show that we tried to straighten him out.” Carter ran his thumb over the lip of his coffee cup. Callie Thompson. David Hughes. The Boston FBI idiot. And everyone thought that the gig of a small-town lawman was easy.
“Hey, chief,” Bill called from the other room. “You might want to come see this.”
Carter let out a groan and looked at Nancy. “I should have gone home.”
“It might have been a good idea.”
He pushed himself out of his chair and headed out into the main bay. Bill was standing near the front windows. Something outside on the town square had caught his attention. “What is it?”
“Is that the silver Mustang you ticketed earlier today?”
Carter felt his shoulder twinge. One look out the window, and his rotten mood returned. “Damn.”
Parked on the town square was a shiny silver bullet of a car. There were just two problems: 1) The car was parked in front of a fire hydrant and 2) Its owner was heading into the biggest gossip mill in town, Mamie’s restaurant.
* * *
CALLIE’S HEAD WAS SPINNING as she walked down the sidewalk along Main Street. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out that she couldn’t unpack before she did some cleaning. The thought of putting food on those grimy counters or walking barefoot across those floors made her cringe. She’d come to town for supplies, but had gotten sidetracked at the hardware store. She’d stopped just for the essentials, but her little visit had taken more time and money than she’d planned. Her Mustang was once again packed to the brim—with the top up—and her brain hurt from all the advice that Ernie, the hardware guy, had given her. He was delivering all the things that wouldn’t fit in her car tomorrow.
She had a sinking feeling that she was in over her head.
Scraping, sealing, priming, painting... And that was just on the outside. Who knew how old the wiring was? Or the plumbing?
Feeling overwhelmed, she walked into the diner. She was starving, and she knew better than to stop for groceries when just about anything sounded good. Besides, that kitchen needed to be scoured before she cooked anything in it.
The bell over the door rang, signaling her arrival. It was early for supper and late for lunch, but several people sat in the booths that surrounded the main counter. Glances darted her way, along with smiles. She chose an open booth along the far wall.
A pleasant-looking woman dropped a menu on the table. “Can I get you something to drink, dear?”
“A Coke, please.” Callie shrugged out of her blue jean jacket. It was a classic small-town diner complete with Formica counters and chrome napkin holders. The silverware gleamed and the red-checkered floor shone. Best of all, the aromas coming out of the kitchen had her salivating.
Ice rattled in a red plastic glass when the woman returned with the drink and set it on the table. She placed a paper-wrapped straw beside it. “Are you a leaf peeper?”
Callie smiled. She loved the colors of the season, but she wasn’t a tourist anymore. “I just moved here.”
“Really?” The interest in the woman’s eyes grew. She had happy eyes, really, and a pleasant face. “Welcome! I’m Mamie.”
Her mood was infectious, and Callie laughed. “I wondered if there really was a Mamie. I’m Callie. Callie Thompson.”
“Where did you move into, hon? The apartment over Ernie’s?”
Callie tilted her head. There had been a vacancy notice in the window of the hardware store, now that she thought about it. “The house at the end of Highland Street.” She pointed in the direction of her new digs. “Just a few blocks up.”
Mamie’s happy eyes rounded. “The old Calhoun place?”
There it was again. Callie’s smile faltered when she remembered her encounter with the police chief. “I’ve heard it called that.”
“Oh dear.”
“I know. I didn’t expect it to be as bad as it is, but I’m going to work on it.”
“Oh my. Are you sure you want to stay there?”
“It’s all right.” Callie found herself in the odd position of comforting the woman, when she’d spent the last hour or so trying to convince herself of the same thing. “It will take some work, but it has good bones. I think I can turn it into a showplace.”
“Yes, but... Oh, heavens.” Mamie patted her gray hair and looked around the restaurant anxiously. When she turned back around, she was biting her bottom lip. “Do you know what you want to eat?”
“Um...” Callie hadn’t had a chance to even look at the menu. “A burger and fries?”
“Coming right up.” Mamie snatched up the menu and dashed away without another word.
Callie watched as she scooted back to her command post behind the counter. She clipped the order onto the rotating wheel for the cook and spun it around. Without missing a beat, she grabbed the old-fashioned phone that hung on the wall. When she realized that she was being watched, she smiled charmingly, but then turned her back. Callie watched in fascination as the woman spoke into the phone in hushed words. When she hung up, she smiled that beatific smile again and went back to work as if nothing had happened.
What in the world?
When the bell jingled over the door a few minutes later, Mamie pointed in the direction of Callie’s table. Callie blinked and looked swiftly at the door. A short pixie of a woman had arrived. She couldn’t have been five feet tall. Her white hair was clipped short, and her blue uniform was crisp. At Mamie’s direction, the woman swiftly marched over to the booth. Callie couldn’t help but brace herself.
“Hi.” The pixie’s voice sounded like gravel on sandpaper.
“Good afternoon,” Callie said uncertainly.
“Alice Gunthrie.” The woman stuck out her hand. “I’m the postmaster in these parts.”
“Callie Thompson.” For as tiny as the woman was, that voice was going to take some getting used to. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Mamie said you’ve moved into the Calhoun house.”
Ah. Callie threw a look in Mamie’s direction, and the woman had the grace to blush.
“Yes, I have. I was going to visit the post office next to see if any of my mail had been forwarded yet.”
Alice cocked her head. “Girl, why would you want to do a foolish thing like that?”
“Forward my mail?”
“Move in there?”
Disbelief dripped from her words, and Callie sat up a bit straighter. It was her house, after all, and she’d already developed some pride in it. “Why not? My aunt left it to me, and I think it has potential.”
Alice’s jaw dropped. For a long moment, she didn’t even breathe. “You in-her-i-ted the place?”
“From my great-aunt Jeanne.”
“You’re family?”
“Well, yes. I didn’t know her well, but I sent her Christmas cards every year. Did you know her?”
“Never heard of her.” Without being invited, Alice slid onto the padded bench across the table. She settled her chin into her hands and didn’t even try to be coy as she gave Callie a once-over. “So you’re a Calhoun. I’ll be darned!”
Callie shifted uncomfortably when Alice and Mamie shared a look. Worse, people around the diner started murmuring. All she’d wanted was a quick meal before she headed back to the house. That was it. She hadn’t expected to be subjected to some kind of town inquest—although after her experience with their chief of police, she should have known better. “I’m a Thompson. I inherited the place from a distant relative, who was also a Thompson. I don’t know anything about any Calhouns.”
“Gotta be. Gotta be. All the others were renters, but if you inherited it... It just might work this time.”
“What might work?”
Alice waved off the question, but she and Mamie shared another look. “Never mind. I’ve got a good feeling about you.”
Callie wasn’t sure she could return the compliment. First Chief Hardass and now Postmaster Pokey. Why was everybody getting up in her business?
Alice folded her arms on the table. “Have you been inside the place?”
Callie ripped the wrapper off her straw. Was there a polite way to excuse herself? Could she get her order to go? “I just finished unloading my car.”
“How did it feel?”
The odd question had her pausing as she wadded the paper into a tiny ball. “Feel? I don’t know. It felt... historic. Lonely. Welcoming?”
“Ha! Well, there you go.”
When raised in volume, Alice’s voice was a close approximation of a foghorn. More people started to watch them, and Mamie hovered even closer. She was wiping the table next to them with a rag, even though the tabletop was already sparkling.
“Are you here with your husband? Got a family?” Alice craned her neck to look for other people in a car or wandering back from the restroom.
“I’m single.”
Mamie’s mouth rounded.
“You’ll be out there alone?” Alice croaked.
“Why?” Callie asked, pinning her with a look. “What’s wrong?”
When Alice went mum, Callie focused on Mamie. She jumped as if she’d been poked.
“Oh, nothing, dear,” she said sweetly. “It’s just a little... Well, you know... The mess and decay and all. It’s so dark up there.”
“So she’ll buy a light.” Alice leaned in. “What do you do, hon? Teach karate, maybe? Or a woman of the cloth?”
“Alice,” Mamie hissed.
“What? The skills might help.” Alice pursed her lips. “The town’s a nice place, but we don’t have many job openings.”
Callie could see the curiosity in the women’s eyes. Suddenly the inquisition made sense. The police chief’s she still didn’t understand, but these two? They were the generator behind the town’s rumor mill. She hid her smile. It would be good for her to remember that.
She dropped the paper ball she’d made onto the table, and it rolled in a lopsided circle. “I kept my old job. With a computer and the Internet, I can work from almost anywhere.”
“Doing what?”
“I have a column,” she said evasively.
“A column of what?”
“A newspaper column.”
“You’re a journalist?”
“I’m a humorist.”
Alice’s brow furrowed. “You write jokes?”
Callie had hoped to put this off for at least a little while, but there really was no getting around it. She might as well give the rumor mill something harmless to work with. “Observations, really. I write about random things that catch my attention, answer people’s questions, give advice, that type of thing...”
“Have we ever heard of you?” Alice asked. “Do we get you here in Shadow Valley?”
“I’m not sure. The column is syndicated. Ever heard of Quick Thinking?”
The postmaster smacked both hands onto the table, and the tiny paper ball Callie had made from her straw wrapper went tumbling off the table. “Holy mackerel. You’re Quick Kate?”
Mamie let out a gasp. “We all read your column, dear,” she said, forgetting to pretend she wasn’t listening. “You’re wonderful. Why, somebody was laughing just this morning about the advice you’d given.”
Callie blushed, but took the praise in the spirit it was intended. “Thank you. I think.”
Alice was practically bouncing in her seat. “I can’t believe you’ve moved to Shadow Valley—and to that house. An observationist. Ha! You’ll have something to write about out there. Hey, is that why they’ve been printing reruns of your column for the past week? Because you were moving here?”
Callie took a sip of her Coke. She should have ordered something stronger. “Uh huh.”
“Oh my stars.” Mamie fanned herself. “We have a celebrity in our midst.”
People turned in their seats and voices rose. Behind her, Callie heard the bell over the door jingle.
“Carter!” Alice croaked. “Perfect timing. Get over here.”
Callie turned in her seat to see who was going to accost her this time, and she stiffened. Chief Hardass. Again. Great.
He reached up to remove his sunglasses, and his attention landed on her. Awareness snapped between them like electricity. Uncomfortable. Enlivening. Powerful. But then he looked at her new friends and scowled.
“Hustle it up,” Alice said, waving him over. “You’re not going to believe who this is.”
Callie let out a long breath as the town police chief walked over and planted himself at the end of her table. God, he was big. He was tall and solid as a brick house. He folded his arms across his chest as he towered over them, and she reached for her drink. Her mouth had suddenly gone dry.
“Miz Callie Thompson?” he said.
The emphasis was so subtle that she almost didn’t hear it. Yet when she looked up at him, that strange electricity crackled again. “Chief... I don’t think I ever did get your name.”
“Landry. It’s Carter Landry.”
“Oh.” Alice swiveled her head back and forth between the two of them. “You two have already met?”
“You could say that,” Callie muttered.
“So he knows?” Alice said.
“Knows what?” Landry asked.
“That she’s a Calhoun.”
“I’m not—” Callie started.
“And she’s Quick Kate!”
There was a pause. “Who?” he finally asked.
“Kate.” Alice rolled her hand as if trying to pull it out of him. “You know, from the paper.”
The chief’s gaze homed in on Callie again, and she fought not to squirm. He had blue eyes. Really blue.
“Your driver’s license said your name was Calina.”
Her grip on her drink tightened. He didn’t have a clue. Not one. “It’s not my real name.”
“You gave me a false ID?” he practically growled.
“No, no. It’s a pseudonym.”
“Calina?”
“Kate,” she said impatiently.
“Carter,” Alice said with obvious frustration, “she writes the Quick Thinking column in the newspaper.”
“As Kate,” Callie said. Most people had at least heard of the column, even if they didn’t read it. Did he live in a cave?
Actually, that made sense.
“So your name is Calina,” he said.
She jabbed her straw into her glass. “I prefer Callie.”
“Carter.” Alice knocked on the table to get his attention. “You’re missing the point. She writes for the paper, and she’s going to be living in the old Calhoun house.”
The postmaster waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
Conversely, the chief’s eyes narrowed, and the temperature at the table cooled. “Alice,” he said in that low, rumbling voice, “so help me, if you’ve already started telling her stories about that—”
“Hush.” Alice cut him off with a swift chopping motion. “It’s a good thing. At least, we think it is.”
Mamie slipped a large to-go coffee into the police chief’s hand. She patted his arm and looked at Callie. “Yes, we have a very good feeling about this.”
An impish look came into her eyes. “In fact... Did you know that our handsome police chief is single too, dear?”
“Oh, for God’s sake. Mamie.” An exasperated look came over Landry’s face, and he rolled a shoulder in obvious discomfort. “Just don’t listen to a thing they tell you,” he warned Callie.
“But Carter...” Alice said with a pout.
“Me?” Mamie said, hurt.
He let one eyebrow lift. “They tend to be... excitable.”
Callie hadn’t noticed.
With a huff, Alice settled back in her seat. She was so short that she nearly disappeared beneath the level of the table. Muttering, Mamie hurried off to get an order.
“But this time they’re going to try to keep the excitement down to a manageable level,” Landry called after her. “Ms. Thompson moved here specifically for peace and quiet.”
“She did now, did she?” Alice said. “And how do you know that, Mr. Bossy?”
“I told him so,” Callie said.
Alice popped up like a jack-in-the-box. “You were called out there already, Carter?”
Landry rolled his eyes. “We had a chat when I caught her doing twenty miles an hour over the speed limit coming into town.”
“Twenty! Ooh, honey.” The postmaster made a tsking noise. “That’s too fast. That road twists and turns like a belly dancer.”
Callie folded her arms over her chest. She should have known. She was the outsider, after all, and he was the hunky police chief. Big fish, little pond. “He also fined me for not having my boxes tied down.”
“You do the crime,” he said softly, “you do the time.”
Mamie stopped with a BLT order held high. “Oh, Carter. Stop picking on the dear. She’s brand new to town, and isn’t she just the prettiest thing?”
Callie felt heat suffuse her face. She’d wanted backup, but not like that.
Even the big fish looked like he wanted to jump to another pond. He cleared his throat and looked down at his coffee. “Uh, so, Alice, I heard there was some trouble out at your place while I was gone.”
“Don’t you go changing the topic, boy.”
He ran a hand through his hair. When he looked at her again, Callie dug her fingers deeper into her elbows.
“Just take whatever they tell you with a grain of salt,” he said.
“Oh, we’ll be good,” Alice croaked. “We promise to just sit back and see how everything goes.”
Mamie zipped her thumb and forefinger across her lips. “We swear.”
The police chief didn’t look too sure, but he reached into his pocket and pulled out money for the coffee. He gave it to Mamie, but then hesitated, as if he wasn’t comfortable leaving them together. Finally, with a nod, he turned and headed to the door. Callie finally let out her breath when the bell jingled.
Mamie spun so fast that her apron flared. “I’ve got the best feeling about this,” she said, clapping her hands together in delight.
“Oh, yeah.” Alice’s eyes danced. “Things are going to get interesting around here—and in more ways than one.”