CHAPTER TWO

Friday

I

Ellie Martin had been part of Stillwater football in some form or fashion for most of her forty-two years. She liked football—had been the star of the powderpuff football game in 1984 when her freshman class beat the seniors, a contentious bit of Stillwater Snipes history even to this day—but for Ellie, the game was secondary, the background music to what she enjoyed most of all: watching the pageant of a small-town community. The best vantage point for that was the concession stand.

Everyone, at one point or another throughout the game or season, came to the home-side concession stand. Most were regulars—coming at the same time during the game, ordering the same thing, making the same bit of small talk. Others came infrequently, their visits memorable for their rarity. Many conversations were ended midsentence, the press of the line demanding attention, with promises to call, catch lunch, or talk more at church made with a wave or nod, depending on how overloaded arms were with burgers, hot dogs, Cokes, candy, and popcorn.

The Stillwater Snipes Booster Club had been running the home-side concession stand for as long as anyone could remember. Game prep went on with little explanation or direction. Everyone knew their job and did it, decked out in various types of Snipes spirit wear: logoed golf shirts, bedazzled denim shirts and trucker hats, homemade Snipes earrings and necklaces made by a past president of the booster club, oversized hoodies and fleeces when the weather turned cooler. Conversation leaned toward gossip—school, church, and town. The concession stand was right behind the Cut-n-Curl and bank in Stillwater grapevine importance. Ellie’d been at the center of Stillwater chatter too many times in her life to want to participate. Only a fool wouldn’t listen. The topic of conversation at this meaningless, pre-district game, however, was more interesting than usual: Jack McBride.

“Hardly a great way to start his job. Losin’ a criminal and getting pistol-whipped on his first day.”

“Don’t forget that illegal stole his cruiser and set it on fire.”

“Buck Pollard never had anything like that happen.”

“I’m sure Buck Pollard had plenty happen you never knew about.”

“You think it’s a coincidence Stillwater has its first murders in years on McBride’s first day?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just sayin’.”

“How on Earth could Buck Pollard have stopped a Mexican from killing her husband and herself? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Weren’t no murder-suicide. Double murder. Drug-related from what I hear.”

“Well, if it’s drug-related, then maybe Buck would have stopped it.”

Everyone went silent and exchanged furtive glances, waiting for lightning to strike them all down for the audacity of talking against Pollard. It was an open secret that crime was so low in Stillwater because of Pollard’s machinations—illegal and legal—instead of his crime-fighting abilities. A good portion of the town was incensed when he left, not willing to trade their false sense of security for a rule-following Fed. Too many people were willing to sweep the town’s problems under the rug and pretend they didn’t exist.

Though the world didn’t end with the vague implication about Pollard, the women changed the subject anyway.

“I heard Earl told the Chief yesterday morning he had a hiring freeze. Of course, had to change his mind this morning.”

“Well, it was stupid of Earl to do that anyway. Can’t run the town on four policemen, let alone three.”

“If he don’t got the money, he don’t got the money.”

“Oh, I’m sure he can find it somewhere.”

“I heard the chief’s already interviewin’ outsiders for the open officer position.”

“I doubt he’s interviewed anyone yet. Have you seen him? He don’t look like he knows where he is.”

Ellie looked up through the concession window. Jack McBride leaned against the fence circling the field, listening to Miner but looking in the direction of the concession stand. Surely he couldn’t hear their conversation.

“Rachel Lowe told me it was a bad one. He left the hospital this morning against Young Poole’s orders.”

“He don’t look like the type who would take orders from anyone.”

“Don’t let Jane Maxwell hear you say that.”

Everyone laughed. Ellie kept her head down and stocked the drink cooler. It was the first sensible thing they’d said.

“Rachel Lowe doesn’t need to be telling anyone anything.”

“My point was why ain’t he interviewing local men? There’s plenty that want the job. Lord knows there’s just as many that need it.”

“Maybe he will. My guess is none are qualified.”

“Are you kidding me? Plenty of men in this town are good with a gun. My cousin, Curtis, is the best marksman in the county.”

“He was also thrown in jail for growing weed.”

“That was a long time ago. He’s reformed. Plus, that experience would only make him a better officer. He has insight into the criminal mind.”

“Well, I think it’s awfully early to be telling the chief how to do his job. Give him a chance to get adjusted, make a difference.”

“Clear the cobwebs out from getting the tar beat out of him.”

“We all need to wait a while to pass judgment. Then you can tell him how to do his job if it ain’t up to your standards.”

A new voice entered the discussion. “If you ask me, a little outside blood is just what this town needs.” Everyone stopped and stared at the woman standing in the doorway of the concession stand.

Stillwater Snipes Football Booster President Kelly Dudley Jackson Kendrick had a way of stopping conversation, either by lobbing verbal bombs into the middle of innocuous discussions or just by entering a room. That was to be expected by the only Stillwater girl to place in the Miss Texas pageant, an achievement she continued to get mileage off of twenty-five years after the fact.

“Just in time, Miss America—all the work’s done,” Ellie said.

“I know, and I’m sorry, y’all,” Kelly said, voice full of contrition. “My client in Yourkeville is from Maine, of all places, and doesn’t understand about Friday nights. It took her three hours to decide between two shades of gray.”

“You just said we need outside blood and you’re making fun of a woman from Maine?”

“I didn’t mean Yankee blood. McBride’s mother was Lieutenant Governor, for heaven’s sake.”

“Are y’all talkin’ about the new chief?” Michelle Ryan, a woman Ellie had known her entire life and disliked for almost as long, stood at the window of the concession stand. Ellie rolled her eyes and focused on stocking Dr Peppers in the drinks cooler. Michelle was like a heat-seeking missile; locking in on wherever Ellie and Kelly were and making a point to rub salt into old wounds with either a veiled barb about past events or by merely existing in the same space. Michelle angled herself so she could talk to them while staring at Jack McBride.

Kelly’s smile was sweet and sarcastic. “Have you met him?”

“Not yet.”

“That’s right. You only go in for married men.”

Michelle glanced at Ellie, and raised her eyebrow with a smirk. And there it is. Activity in the concession stand increased, as if none of the gossipy women were in the least bit interested in the newest installment of a long-standing feud.

Ellie could feel the grapevine reaching out and entwining itself around her. “Come on, Kelly, help me bring some Diet Cokes in.” Ellie grabbed Kelly’s arm, and dragged her out of the small building.

“I can’t stand that cow,” Kelly said when they were out of earshot.

“I know,” Ellie said. “Everybody knows.”

“I can’t believe you can be in the same room with her.”

“Technically, we weren’t in the same room.”

Kelly crossed her arms, cocked her hip, and tapped her foot.

Ellie stood in front of her petite friend and placed her hands on her shoulders. “It was ten years ago. Time to let it go.”

“I don’t like people messing with my Ellie Bellie,” Kelly said. “And how can you be so easy to forgive? She basically ruined your life.”

“I want to move on. It would help if you’d stop alluding to it in every conversation with her.”

Kelly’s shoulders slumped. “Shit, you’re right.” She scrunched up her face. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just don’t do it again.”

“Okay, but if she mentions it or alludes to it, I’m going to kick her ass for you.”

Ellie clutched her hands in front of her chest and batted her eyes. “My champion.”

“Shut up.” She pushed Ellie’s shoulder. With a grin, Ellie pushed back.

“Now, help me.” Ellie released the tailgate of a truck filled with concession supplies.

“Is McBride married?” Kelly asked.

“How would I know?” She shoved a case of drinks in Kelly’s arms.

“You met him. Sold your house to him.”

“We didn’t talk about his personal life.”

“Was there a woman’s name on the paperwork?”

“No. Take that in and stock the cooler. If Michelle is still around, don’t say a word to her.” Kelly opened her mouth to speak, but Ellie lifted her finger and pointed it at her friend. “Don’t even look at her.”

“Fine,” Kelly said. She walked off, calling over her shoulder, “You better hurry back in. I can’t be held responsible for what I say if she looks at me the wrong way.”

“Just need to find the Skittles,” Ellie replied.

She climbed into the back of the truck and shifted everything around until she found the right box. Ellie lifted the box of candy and wrinkled her nose against the faint, fruity aroma of tropical Skittles. She liked the original flavor better, but these sold like gangbusters, along with Sour Patch Kids. Her mouth puckered at the thought of the tangy candy. She stacked a box of Snickers on top to block the smell and picked her way back through the supplies to the tailgate. She put the boxes down and was about to jump out of the truck when she spied Jack McBride walking toward her.

“Hi,” she said. She tried not to flinch at the sight of the stitches over his eyebrow or the dark purple bruise around his right eye. His gaze was unfocused, as if trying to place her. Ellie placed her hand across her chest. “Ellie. Ellie Martin.”

He grinned. “I knew who you were. Do I look that out of it?”

“A little.”

“Need some help?” he asked. He held out his hand.

She didn’t, but she took his hand anyway. “Thanks.” She jumped down. “Good to see you.”

“You, too.” He stared at her, rather stupidly, and held her hand a little too long. She pulled her hand away and picked up the candy.

“Let me get that,” he said.

“That’s okay. I’ve got it.”

“You look different,” he said.

She motioned vaguely to her jeans and T-shirt and almost dropped the candy. “No uniform.”

Jack reached out and took the boxes from her. His eyes lost focus again and then cleared. “Oh, right,” he said. He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Sorry. I guess I am still a little foggy. I meant your hair.” He waved his hand near his neck. “You’ve cut it, right?”

“Yes, she did.” Kelly was back, a huge smile on her face. “You must be the new chief of police. I’m Kelly Kendrick.”

“Jack McBride,” he said, offering his hand. “Nice to meet you.” Ellie thought she saw Jack’s gaze travel up and down her friend quickly, taking her in.

“No offense, but you look awful, Chief,” Kelly said.

“None taken. Ethan can barely look at me.”

“Ethan?” Kelly asked.

“My son.”

Kelly caught sight of Jack’s gun. “I heard you lost that.”

“It’s my backup.”

“Is that a Beretta?”

“Yeah. You know guns?”

“A little. What did you have before?”

He answered but Ellie tuned out their gun talk. Not many men could resist Kelly’s charms and good looks. With her recent obsession with guns, she was the walking wet dream of every redneck east of Dallas. And why not? She was one of those women who looked good all the time, no matter what she wore. Worse yet, it was effortless. Ellie, though four inches taller than her best friend, felt the familiar sensation of receding into the background under the glare of Kelly’s personality.

“Kelly Kendrick. Where have I heard that name?” Jack addressed Ellie, jolting her out of uncharitable thoughts of her friend.

“It’s on the list I gave you. The interior designer.”

“Did you really?” Kelly threw her arms around Ellie’s neck, pulling her down into a hug. “That’s why I love you. Always looking out for me.” Still hugging Ellie, she addressed Jack. “We look out for each other.”

“I can see that.”

He wore an expression that made Ellie assume he was checking off every bullet point in his profile of the two of them. The urge to flee his knowing smirk overwhelmed her.

“I’ve been wanting to get my hands on that house for years. Ellie never would let me at it.”

“Why not?” Jack said.

“I hated that house,” Ellie said, more vehemently than she intended.

Jack raised his eyebrows, but didn’t comment.

“Oh, she took good care of it,” Kelly said, quickly. “It just needs updating. You call me when you’re ready to get started. Come on, Ellie. Get back to work.” She said to Jack, “She holds everything together in there.”

“No I don’t,” Ellie said, but she was happy to use the excuse to leave. She relieved Jack of the boxes he held. “Thanks. Enjoy the game.”

Kelly waited for her, arms crossed, foot tapping, just as Ellie knew she would be. Ignoring her was Ellie’s role in the drama. She opened the freezer door and stacked chocolate candy bars inside. Kelly moved close enough to her so the rest of the women couldn’t hear, which of course made them all curious.

“You’re holding out on me,” Kelly whispered.

“How?”

“Doesn’t he remind you of someone?”

He did, but Ellie hadn’t wanted to admit it. Once she did, she would never be able to deny the resemblance, just as she could never look at a map of the United States without thinking Florida looked like a penis. She had Joe Dan Weeks to thank for that one.

Luckily, Kelly knew Ellie well enough to skirt the subject, if only slightly. “He’s a little older than his picture in the paper and much better looking. Even with the bruises and stitches.” She leaned forward and whispered, “Those make him a little sexy. Gives that conservative, buttoned-up exterior a bit of danger.”

“If you say so.”

“What do you say?”

“I say the game started. I need to get to work, and you need to go cheer for Seth.”

Kelly craned her neck to see the field. Her son, Seth, was the senior quarterback and was being recruited by smaller Texas colleges. His goal was to play at the University of Texas, which, considering his size and armstrength, was a pipe dream. For the past six months, Seth had been working out regularly with Mike Freeman and had vastly improved his strength, agility, and quickness. He might be able to walk on at Texas as a slot receiver, but he wasn’t quite ready to give up on his quarterback dream.

“Defense is on the field,” Kelly said. “I’ll help a bit.”

They used the first quarter, which was always slow, to catch up. Kelly described a project she was working on in Yourkeville. Ellie stocked the hotdog condiments, half-listening to Kelly and half-watching Jack McBride. Jack rested his left arm on the top of the fence, his right hand rested on his holster. The long sleeves of his blue dress shirt were rolled halfway up his forearms. The soles of his expensive loafers were caked in mud.

Ellie had known whom Jack McBride looked like from the moment she set eyes on him a year earlier at Valerie Patterson’s funeral. The resemblance was so striking, she had excused herself from the receiving line and called the prison to make sure her ex-husband hadn’t been paroled or let out for good behavior. She knew better than anyone that if Jinx Martin wanted something bad enough, he could behave well enough to get it.

But, no. Jinx was safely in Huntsville and Jack McBride was nothing like him. Not that it mattered. Despite what Kelly told Michelle Ryan, and Ellie’s evasion of the question, she knew Jack McBride was married.

“And then she told me she had fallen in love with me at first sight and we consummated our mutual attraction on her new Pottery Barn couch.”

Ellie’s head shot up. “What?”

“So you are listening,” Kelly said.

“Of course I am,” Ellie lied. “I’m just distracted by the fifty boxes of books I have to shelve tomorrow with more being delivered on Monday.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Helping a friend.”

Kelly tilted her head to the side. “Have you been working at the concession stand all these years just to help me?” Kelly turned Ellie toward the exit. “Go. Your business is more important than selling a few hotdogs for unappreciative, pimply football players.”

Ellie turned back around. “But what if Michelle comes back? Who will stand between you? Maybe I should warn Miner.”

“Miner, bless his heart. I can hear him now, ‘Now, ladies, what’s goin’ on here? What are two purty ladies like you fightin’ fur?’”

Ellie laughed. Kelly was an excellent mimic. “If things get dicey with Michelle, I’m sure the Chief will come to your rescue.”

Jesus. Why did she say that? She knew. Of course she knew. Apparently, it didn’t matter how old you were, or how hard you tried, some childhood insecurities lasted a lifetime.

“You think?” Kelly said, either oblivious to Ellie’s anxieties or pointedly ignoring them. Ellie had never known which. “Because he kept looking at you the whole time I was talking.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“How would you know? You were studying your shoes the whole time. They’re ugly, by the way.”

“All rain boots are ugly.”

“Mine aren’t.” Kelly wiggled her foot. Her paisley-printed cowboy rain boots were pretty cute. “You need a pop of color down there.”

“That sounds wrong on every level.”

“Only because your mind is in the gutter.” She leaned close and whispered, “Which means you need to get laid. Bet Jack McBride would oblige.”

“If you don’t let me go, people are going to start rumors about us.”

Kelly released her. “Oh, they already talk. You know that. I mean, why else would two devastatingly attractive women not be married unless they were lesbians? And lesbians together? God, think of all the barflies out at The Gristmill who get mileage out of that rumor.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Come on, it’s funny.”

Ellie’s mouth twitched. “Okay, it’s funny.”

Kelly shooed her away. “Go on. Get out of here before the rush starts. I’ll come by after and tell you about all the mistakes I made, just to make you feel better.”

“Perfect.”

“Chill a bottle. Love your hair. Throw those hideous boots in the trash. Now go,” Kelly said with a playful push.

Ellie walked away, grinning. She would chill two bottles of wine and rope Kelly into helping her shelve some books. She walked behind the bleachers, skirting running children and trying to ignore the teenagers making out in the shadows. The parking lot was empty, save a few latecomers. Ellie was opening her car when someone called her name, startling her.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Jack McBride said as he approached.

Ellie dropped her hand from her chest and forced a smile. “That’s okay.”

“You leaving?”

“Kelly relieved me of duty. Obviously she forgot I hold it all together.”

“She thinks very highly of you.”

“She does. Undeservedly so.”

“I doubt that. Seems like everyone thinks highly of you.”

“Maybe this week they do. It can change like that.” She snapped her fingers.

He studied her, a tiny smile tugging the corner of his lips. The PA announcer’s voice echoed off the high school. Jack looked over his shoulder at the field and back at Ellie. “Don’t you like football?”

“What self-respecting Texan doesn’t like Friday night football?”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“Do you like football?”

He leaned forward and whispered. “I’m more of a basketball fan.”

She mimicked him. “So am I.”

His small smile turned into a mischievous grin. His hand was in his pocket, jingling his keys. The crowd erupted in a loud cheer. The announcer’s voice boomed around them. Jack winced.

“Are you all right?”

“Just a headache.”

“Should you be here? All this noise can’t be good for you.”

“It’s why I’m checking the parking lot. To get away from the noise.”

“Find anything interesting out here?”

“No, though a little kid waylaid me behind the stands, told me he found a skeleton.”

“Really?”

He nodded and shrugged.

“You know it’s probably a cow,” Ellie said.

“Oh. I should have thought of that…. Well, I’ll check it out anyway.” He stared at her with the same spacey expression from earlier.

“What is it? Are you feeling okay?”

“No. I’ll be fine. Mind if I lean against your car?”

“Of course not.”

He leaned his back against her rear driver’s side door and took a deep breath. His face was pale. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She reached out to touch his forehead to check his temperature, but caught herself. She jerked her hand back. “Sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? Do I have a fever?” He leaned his head toward her. Reluctantly, she placed the back of her hand against his forehead, careful to avoid his fresh stitches. He was a little warm.

“You might. Is that common with concussions?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want me to take you home?”

“No, Ethan’s here. I drove.”

“Right.”

They leaned against her car, staring at the football field. Ellie shoved her hands in her pockets to keep herself from touching him. He needed someone to take care of him and she, uncharacteristically, wanted to do it. She had zero experience taking care of others or being taken care of. When she was sick, she took care of herself. People who craved attention when they were sick irritated her—cancer patients and people with terminal illnesses notwithstanding. She wasn’t coldhearted, just ignorant of the desire to nurture and be nurtured in return.

Until now.

She felt his eyes on her. What was he thinking? Was he comparing her to Kelly? Was he—

Enough of this. If she traveled too far down this road, she would hate herself for being petty and immature. She’d battled her private insecurities and prejudices enough to know they were easily vanquished with determined focus on things at which she excelled. At the moment, that distraction would be her new business, which she needed to get back to. She was formulating just what to say to get rid of Jack McBride when he spoke.

“Have you ever met someone and felt a connection almost immediately?”

She studied him. The memory of their conversation at the bank rushed forward. The jolt she felt when he shook her hand. His smile.

“Yes.” She looked down and dug the toe of her ugly boot into the gravel. “Kelly has that effect on people.”

“Kelly?” He paused. “I’m not talking about Kelly.” His voice was gentle, as though coaxing a terrified kitten from a ledge.

Ellie cleared her throat. She wasn’t ready for this, didn’t want it. “I really should go.” She turned to open her car door, but he stepped closer to her.

She could smell the faint scent of his aftershave and see the tiny broken blood vessels in his eyes, which lingered on her lips. She edged away from him. His eyes moved to hers, his good eyebrow arched, and the corner of his mouth quirked up.

“Are you scared of me?”

Terrified, but she would never admit it. It was bad enough her insecurities were so plain to him. Her spine stiffened…. He sure wasn’t acting like a married man, she realized.

“Can I ask you something?” she said.

“Sure.”

“Why Stillwater?”

The shift from good humor to wariness was barely perceptible. “Why not?”

“FBI agent to small-town police chief?”

She waited until he had to answer either with the truth or a creative lie.

“My son and I needed a change. Stillwater seemed like a good choice.”

She noticed he didn’t mention his wife. “Why don’t I believe you?”

Jack shrugged. “It’s the truth.”

“But not the full truth.”

He narrowed his eyes and jingled the change in his pocket, as though debating how much he could trust her. She held his gaze and his face softened. What did he read in her?

“The last year has been difficult, personally and professionally. When I heard of this job,” he shrugged, “I thought small-town living might be a nice change.” He leaned his shoulder against her car. “Despite my shitty first day—” He let his eyes travel over her. It should have been offensive, but his expression was so appreciative and full of something Ellie didn’t want to name, she flushed with chagrin. “—I think it was a good decision,” he finished.

A car pulled through the parking lot and beeped its horn. Ellie jumped and instinctively waved at the driver.

Jack chuckled. “You do know everyone in town.”

She had no idea who she just waved at, but didn’t want to admit it. “Almost. I have to go.” She got in the car and turned it on.

Jack stepped into the gap of the open door, his hand on the top of the window, and leaned down. The stadium lights behind him cast his face in shadow, but his eyes were bright. For the first time he looked ill at ease, embarrassed, vulnerable, in a way that had nothing to do with his head injury. Her stomach felt like it had jumped on an out-of-control merry-go-round and was holding on for dear life.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she got out her words first. “Take care of yourself, Jack. Good luck with the skeleton.”

His disappointment was clear. He straightened, nodded. “Drive carefully, Ellie.”

She closed the door, relieved to have a solid barrier between her and a world of trouble.