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He nodded curtly and marched over to her usual booth. He slid in and slammed his crossed arms on top of the table. As she picked up the coffee mug, Andi said in a low voice to the remaining suspects, “Thank you for your patience. I’ll have you back on your way as soon as possible. Oscar, you can go ahead and get their orders. Jackie will be back in a second.”
Oscar smoothly pulled out his pad and glided over to the table by the window where a family of four was perusing the menu. Their study shouldn’t take long. At breakfast Jackie was big on the basics: pancakes, biscuits, sausage, bacon and eggs. The only real question was how much food they wanted piled up on the table at one time.
Andi slid in across from Jackie and pulled out her notebook and pen. She used to rely on her memory for all the pertinent details. Then Mark Taylor moved to town and Andi decided she might need her own little notebook.
“So, Jackie, is the diner exactly as you found it this morning when you came in?”
“You mean other than the lineup of criminals sitting at my counter? Yes. I didn’t touch anything.”
“Other than the door and the phone, you didn’t touch anything, right?”
His bushy brows beetled over his nose. “Well, yeah, I had to touch the phone to call your office, didn’t I?”
“And to call Mr. Taylor.” Andi sipped her coffee and watched the color rise in Jackie’s cheeks. He gritted his teeth and nodded curtly.
“What about the trophy case?” Andi asked. “Was it locked when you left last night?”
He stared over his shoulder as if the trophy case would tell him the answer. When he looked back, he was frowning, but he finally nodded. In her book, Andi noted that the case might have been unlocked. He didn’t look certain.
“Was the safe locked? And where do you keep the combination?” Andi watched him think.
“Yes, the safe was locked. I didn’t have the combination written down anywhere I can think of.” He sighed. “But I kept the override key in the top drawer of the desk. Probably wouldn’t have been hard to find if he knew what he was looking for.”
She made a note to check for prints on the key. A savvy robber might expect the key to be hidden in the desk, but it didn’t change her mind that the thief was somebody who knew Jackie pretty well. He had a thing for organization and efficiency.
“And where was Wanda Blankenship when you stopped her?”
He huffed once. “She ran past me while I was unlocking the door. You know she makes laps. When she came by again, I grabbed her and told her to sit right down.”
Andi pursed her lips. “And she did? She sat right down when you told her to?”
Jackie shrugged. “I might have threatened to tell a secret about her if she didn’t stay put.”
Andi paused, her pen ready to add whatever shocking secret Jackie had over Wanda Blankenship, but he picked that moment to clam up. “And what is that secret?”
He shook his head. “Nope. I won’t tell.”
“Listen, Jackie, it’s honorable to keep secrets for people who’ve asked you to, but it might help me to know what Wanda’s hiding. I’m pretty good at keeping secrets, too.”
He frowned. “I might need that secret someday. It’s already helped me once. I’m not giving it up.”
Andi fought the urge to sigh. It was difficult but she managed, barely, to meet his eyes. “And it has nothing to do with this case?”
“Can’t see how it does, Sheriff.” He met her stare without flinching, and Andi decided to move on.
“Okay, does the restaurant have a back door, Jackie?” This strip of Main Street had been converted to smaller spaces from a large mercantile. Some of them had back entrances and some didn’t.
Jackie shook his head. “No, Sheriff, we use the front door, have to carry trash around the end of the block to the Dumpsters out back.” He pulled out his order pad as the door clanged shut behind new customers. Jackie glanced at them and back at Andi. “It’s a real pain.”
She jotted down his answer. “You mentioned important documents. Like deeds and legal papers...that sort of thing?”
“Yeah, stuff I wanted to keep safe, things that...well, it’s all important but some of it’s...it can’t be replaced.” He made the wrap-it-up gesture. “Just find my property, Sheriff. Fast. Mona’s going to be real upset until you do, and I can’t have that. The twelve gold trophies ought to be a real easy trail to follow.” He pointed over at the new table of customers. “All right if I go now?”
She nodded. And made a note that Wanda wasn’t the only one with some kind of secret. Jackie didn’t want to talk about whatever was in the safe. Andi wrote down his wife’s name and a big question mark.
Figuring she knew how it well it would go, Andi sucked up her frustration before calling over her shoulder, “Oscar, can I talk to you for a second?”
He silently glided over and hovered.
Andi pointed at the seat across from her. “Do you want to sit down?”
There was a minute adjustment of Oscar’s head that might be a refusal. Apparently he preferred to stand.
“Jackie said you arrived after he did this morning. Is that right?” Another infinitesimal adjustment that might be construed as a nod. “What time did you leave yesterday?” Andi waited. This was going to be good.
“Four.” She didn’t know that she’d ever heard Oscar speak, but he had a nice, deep voice.
“Can anyone verify your whereabouts between four and when you arrived this morning?”
Her answer was a small tic that looked like a no but might also be a yes. She sighed. “All right, Oscar, go ahead and get back to work. I’ll track you down if I have any more questions.” And a deep desire to ram my head against the wall. Oscar would have known about the safe and the key, but he had to be smart enough to know he’d be the number-one suspect if something like this happened.
Andi glanced over to see Wanda Blankenship and Mark Taylor in what appeared to be a cozy conversation. Wanda was leaning against him. One tanned, leanly muscled shoulder rested against him. Andi took a deep breath. “Miss Blankenship, can I talk to you for a second? I know you need to be on your way.”
Wanda looked at Andi impatiently before she patted Mark on the back. She leaned forward to whisper something in his ear, and they both laughed at whatever sparkling gem that might be before she slid off the stool. There’s no other word for it. The woman was a slinker. She slunk across the diner toward the booth, and Mark Taylor seemed to appreciate every minute.
Wanda perched gingerly on the seat before she waved at him. Andi noisily flipped the page in her notebook to get Wanda’s attention. “So, Wanda, I understand you were running on your normal circuit this morning when Jackie stopped you.”
Wanda pouted. “Yes, Sheriff, I was running the block around the courthouse square like I do every day. I didn’t notice anyone near this place as I ran, but it was dark when I started. The sun had come up when I saw Jackie unlocking the door.”
Andi nodded. “Why’d you stop when he told you to?”
The question rattled Wanda, who was clearly wondering whether Jackie had given away her secret, but she’d played this game before. She leaned back against the leather of the booth. “I am a good citizen and a business owner myself, of course. If I can help in any way to apprehend criminals who break into the businesses of our fair town, then I am certainly glad to do so. Besides, I didn’t steal anything.” She tilted her head forward. “Where in the world would I hide it?”
Wanda was laying it on pretty thick, which made Andi reconsider how juicy a secret it would be.
“Jackie says you’ve got a secret. He wouldn’t share it. Would you like to? What makes an innocent woman follow Jackie’s orders?”
She widened her doe eyes and fluttered her eyelashes. At this point it had to be natural instinct or just habit. It had no effect on Andi.
One delicate shoulder rose slowly. “Well, Sheriff, I—” she glanced around the diner and back at Mark Taylor before she leaned forward over the table “—depend on Jackie to keep certain habits secret.”
Andi tried to process that as she asked, “Like...?” She couldn’t come up with a single possibility.
Wanda squeezed her eyes shut and then she mouthed, Pie.
Andi leaned back against the booth. “Did you just say pie?”
Wanda bit her lip. “I’ve got a real bad problem. Jackie’s my supplier. The town’s only fitness icon...and I’m addicted to pie.” Her eyes filled with what seemed to be real tears, and Andi was stumped.
Finally she asked, “Where were you after the Country Kitchen closed last night?”
Wanda sniffed. “I left The Gym at my usual time, about six. I didn’t leave the house until I started my run down here, and I think Jackie was the first person I ran into.”
Wanda Blankenship owned the single health club in town. To be technically correct, her father owned it, but if anyone wanted a treadmill, an elliptical machine, a swimming pool or a tanning bed, then Wanda’s place was the only game in town. She was a walking advertisement for good health and the benefits of regular exercise and short visits to tanning beds.
Wanda had plenty of time to break into the diner and no alibi, but from the mild look of dismay on her face, Andi was nearly certain Wanda would never want to. Unless she needed a way to counter Jackie knowing her secret, but what would she have been hoping to use as leverage?
Andi drew a line through her name on the list of suspects and quickly did the same with Mark Taylor. She just couldn’t imagine what the motive might be.
Wanda looked down at her watch. “Am I free to go, Sheriff?” Andi nodded and picked up her steaming hot cup of coffee. As she sipped, Andi watched Wanda sashay across the diner to the counter where Mark Taylor sat checking his phone for whatever he checked...text messages from girlfriends, hot tips on no-news events in town, sports scores. When Wanda patted his back and bent down to say something, he laughed. Wanda turned to leave and amped up the seduction in her walk. All eyes, even those of the twelve-year-old boy in the booth by the window, followed her exit.
With a deep sigh, Mark Taylor turned to say, “Ready for me, Sheriff?”
Andi really didn’t think she was. She took another sip of coffee and put it carefully back on the table. “You bet.”
CHAPTER TWO
MARK TAYLOR SLID into the booth across from prickly Sheriff Andrea Jackson. Facing off against her was familiar but that didn’t make it any less interesting. Or exciting. She was not a restful person. She was...motivated. Busy. Determined to prove herself. He ought to know. He was recovering from the same obsession himself. Burnout and watching his first wife walk away with a man who’d be home every night had convinced him to try a new life, one with free time and fishing.
Covering bake sales and school plays had taken some adjustment, but he’d embraced his new life wholeheartedly and had the lower blood pressure and friends in town to show for it.
When he settled against the booth, she crossed her arms defensively. As always, he watched the sheriff closely without letting her know he did. She wore her normal spotless uniform and had her hair pulled back so tightly he was surprised she could move her eyebrows. She looked like the type of person who’d build her own ammunition just for fun. He’d bet the fortune he didn’t have that she wasn’t wearing a speck of makeup. She was too tightly wound but pretty.
He braced his elbows on the table. The sheriff flipped a page in her notebook and did not meet his eyes. “So, Sheriff, how goes the investigation?” She was stubborn and uncommunicative on the best days. He wouldn’t get much out of her without a poke.
“Fine. Want to tell me why you’re here if you had nothing to do with this?”
He shrugged. “I knew there would be a good story. We put the paper out yesterday so it’s time to start rounding up the news for next week.”
He leaned forward like he had a secret. “That’s sorta how the whole newspaper thing works, you know.”
Andi picked up her full cup of coffee and stared at it for a second. As he’d chatted with pretty, obvious Wanda Blankenship, he’d watched the sheriff and the rest of the diners. The sheriff was good at focus. She’d probably noticed every hair out of place on Jackie or Wanda, but she was bad on the periphery. He’d had experience in cataloging lots of tiny details all at once. Good stories depended on those. Oscar had refilled her cup at least once, and it was clear that this was the first time she realized it. He watched her watch Oscar and could almost see the lightbulb go on over her head.
“Do his ninjalike coffee skills make you wonder what else he might be capable of?” he asked as he reached over to ruffle the pages of her notebook. When she snapped her head back, stiffened in her seat and snatched her notebook out of his reach, he added a mental note to the list of things he wanted to know about the sheriff. What’s in the notebook?
Curiosity had always been one of his best assets. It was also one of his biggest challenges. He’d never learned how to let a story go, something his ex-wife had shouted more than once.
When he pulled his hand back, Andi took a deep, calming breath. And then she went back on the offensive. “Oscar’s skills aren’t all that important right now, Mr. Taylor. Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts between the time the restaurant closed and when you arrived this morning?”
Something about that “Mr. Taylor” got to him. He wanted to ruffle her a bit. She wouldn’t put up with it for long—she never had any time to waste. He’d better make it good.
He shook his head. “Nope, Sheriff. I spent last night at home.” He leaned forward again and looked up at her through his eyelashes. “I was all alone.”
Andi scribbled a note and met his stare again.
“Isn’t that sad?”
“That no one can vouch for your whereabouts?”
He shook his head. “No, that I was all alone.”
Andi snorted. Or tried to. It came out as a strangled snarf, but he gave her points for trying. With a huff, she retorted, “That is very sad. Hearts all over Tall Pines and the tri-county area would break if they heard such a sad story.”
He did his best not to laugh. Andi Jackson was adorable when she was riled.
“All right, Mr. Taylor. If I have any more questions, I know where to find you.” When he didn’t move, Andi raised both eyebrows. “You can go.” She made little encouraging gestures with both hands.
He started to ease out of the booth but paused on the edge. He didn’t want to leave. “You know, Sheriff, I’m a pretty good investigator. I spent a few years working the crime beat for the state paper before I came here.” His skills were a little rusty, but offering to help might get him into the tight-lipped sheriff’s good graces. Getting any info out of her was next to impossible. “I’d be happy to assist with your investigation. We could exchange information. Sure would make my job easier and the story better.”
She nodded once. “Thank you, Mr. Taylor. I will let you know if I have any questions.”
He shrugged one shoulder and stood. “I guess I’ll just have to stick close to you, Sheriff Jackson. For my readers.”
Andi slapped her notebook closed and slid it into her pocket with authority. And meaning. What would she think if she knew he found that cute rather than authoritative? He should have his head examined. “We’ll have to see about that, Mr. Taylor. I can’t have you interfering with an investigation.”
Of course not. She’d fight every step. That could be both frustrating and fun. He wanted to know what her problem was, why she fought him so hard. Some cops were glory hounds, anxious to get their names on the first page. Not Sheriff Jackson, not even in an election year. It was weird.
“I’m not sure you’re seeing the big picture, Sheriff. A newspaper editor spends a lot of time tracking down the real story and in this town, there’s a whole lot more than meets the eye. I know a few things that might surprise you.” He thumped the table with two fingers and smiled at her over his shoulder as he left the diner.
* * *
ANDI WATCHED HIM leave. She couldn’t help it. Jeans and a polo were his normal summer uniform, but it worked for him.
As she slid out of the booth, Mark stepped outside and maneuvered the heavy bench back into place under the window. When it was situated in the perfect spot, he stood up and put both hands on his hips. Their eyes met through the window and he ducked his head as if to say, See what I did there?
Andi rolled her eyes and fought back a smile. She mouthed, Thank you. He nodded once, then turned around to take a seat. Sitting on a bench and watching the world go by might actually be part of a newspaper editor’s job. The boredom would probably kill her. Andi looked around the diner. Since the breakfast crowd didn’t appear to be too hectic, she walked over to the counter. “Jackie, I’m just going to take another quick look in the back.”
He waved a hand as if to say, Sure, don’t bother me, as he went to help a customer at the cash register.
Oscar was washing dishes as she walked through the swinging door. Jackie could stand to have extra help. Andi wandered back to Jackie’s office and made note of the window over the freezer in the back. The window was small and pretty high off the ground, but someone Oscar’s size could fit through it. She stretched, but the freezer kept her from reaching the latch.
“Hey, Jackie?” Andi called out. He stuck his head through the order window. “Is this window locked?”
Jackie glanced from her to the window. “Well, yes, why wouldn’t it be?”
Andi silently counted to ten. “Are you sure it’s locked?”
Jackie’s lips moved without sound before he said, “Oscar, grab a chair and check the window.”
They both waited while Oscar floated across the kitchen to Jackie’s office. He came back with what appeared to be the first metal chair ever made. Rust dotted the legs, and Andi wondered if metal ever got dry rot. When he climbed on top, she moved behind to catch him in case the metal gave up the ghost.
Oscar yanked on the handle, and the window rose soundlessly.
“Why is that window unlocked?” Jackie’s face was a brilliant red, and Andi wondered if the three hairs he had left were going to run away in fear.
Oscar shrugged. Andi did, too. “Well, I’m going to take a look outside. I’ll let you know if I find anything new, Jackie.”
* * *
MARK DID HIS best to contain a grin when Andi turned the corner into the crazily clean alley behind the diner, saw him leaning against the wall and cursed silently. He’d have to give Sheriff Jackson credit. No matter how often he caught her off guard, she recovered quickly. This time she straightened her shoulders and resumed a precise march.
“What are you doing back here, Mr. Taylor?” She didn’t meet his stare but obviously looked to his left and right in what she’d call “searching for clues.” There were none. He knew that very well.
“Just waiting on you, Sheriff.”
Andi pulled out her phone to take pictures of the alley. “You didn’t touch anything, did you?” There was a scowl on her face. Mark figured it was an automatic reaction at this point. He decided then and there to change it. Automatic smiles were so much better, made for easier working conditions. And her smiles were really nice, probably because they were rare.
He shook his head. “No, ma’am. I used to work with the police a lot. I only invaded one crime scene without permission, but I learned quickly not to do it again. The detective had a good six inches and a hundred pounds on me.”
“Did you destroy any evidence that time?” Andi glanced back to watch him.
“Nah. I got lucky. My guardian angel kept me out of trouble that time or maybe it was dumb luck. Either way, I’m pretty sure the only reason I’m standing here today is because Detective Wright yanked me back by the scruff of my neck just as I was about to make a fatal error.”
Andi was curious. He could tell by the way she turned her head in his direction without really looking at him. She was also determined not to ask. “Okay, do you want to tell me what you’re doing back here? Other than standing right beside the scene I’m investigating?” He was cramping her style. Good. That would make him impossible to ignore. She’d already given him more than her normal blank-faced “no comment.”
“Just want to make sure I’ve got enough details for my story, Sheriff.” He glanced around the alley. “I don’t see much of interest back here.”
Andi shot him a peeved glare.
He held up both hands. “Don’t shoot the messenger. Tall Pines may be the only place in the world where even the back alleys are litter free.”
He ticked off his observations on the fingers of one hand. “Pavement means no footprints or tire tracks. Window’s got no scrapes or scratches. Traffic on a weeknight is almost nonexistent so the thief had the opportunity to come in through that window, even with a stepladder, but there’s nothing here to say he did.”
Andi propped her hands on her hips. “There’s no proof that he or she did, but the window was unlocked so I can’t rule it out.”
“Not much to go on, is it?”
Andi shook her head. “On the bright side, no one murdered the mayor or robbed a bank, either.”
They walked back toward the end of the alley.
“Still, you know Jackie’s going to make your life difficult until he has someone to point fingers at.” He shrugged. “And, of course, there’s the fact that you don’t like loose ends.”
Andi frowned at him. “How do you know my feelings on loose ends?”
“Good guess.” He surveyed her neat uniform, tidy hair, polished boots and precise steps. “Let me help.”
Andi raised both eyebrows, communicating her surprise and disbelief. “Why would you want to help me? What’s in it for you?”
“I know it’s not easy to deal with an unhappy Jackie. Plus, it’s good for me, too. People read the Times for news and stuff. This would be the news. Most of the time, I’ve just got a whole lot of the stuff.” He thrust both hands in his jeans pockets. After what felt like a full minute of contemplating his arms, Andi locked both eyes back on his face. He moved closer as if he was about to tell an important secret. Andi started to lean back but managed to hold her ground. “And, if helping you out with this case means that from now on you’ll be a little more open to sharing information, I consider it worth the effort.”
When he stepped back, Andi inhaled deeply and blinked before she said, “Mr. Taylor, you and I both know why I won’t be accepting your offer. Besides, I’m really good at this. You just go ahead and toss your lure in the lake, okay? I’ll let you know how it all turns out.”
Mark whistled. “Hmm, a low blow.” He reached down and grabbed her hand to slow her forceful retreat. “Sheriff, no matter how hard you work today, there’s going to be twice as much tomorrow. Twice as many crooks. Twice as many questions with no answers. You should learn to enjoy each day anyway. The work will always be there. Don’t forget about life.” He trailed his thumb over her pulse and the smooth, warm skin of her wrist before he let her hand slide out of his.
* * *
REFUSING TO RUB away the odd warmth lingering on her wrist, Andi turned and walked over to her SUV. The sun had risen, so instead of a nice, shaded truck, it was a metal box set on broil. Add that to the fact that she’d probably had her weekly intake of caffeine between the ride over to the diner and Oscar’s ninja coffee skills and the close proximity to the newspaper editor and Andi was starting to feel a bit steamed and a whole lot jittery. She needed air-conditioning, a gallon of water and some distance. It was no wonder her fingers were tingling like that. It probably had nothing to do with Mark Taylor.
Taking a deep breath, Andi yanked open the door and managed not to take two steps back from the heat blast. Leather seats were such a bad idea.
Still, she was satisfied that she’d managed to stand her ground with Mark Taylor even if she hadn’t actually gained any. Andi dropped down in the driver’s seat with a wince at the heat baking through her uniform pants, started the car and pulled away from the curb. As she reached down to crank up the air conditioner, she looked in the rearview mirror. Mark Taylor was standing at the edge of the curb watching her drive away with that smirk on his face. Andi was suddenly less sure whether she was holding her ground or losing the battle and she just didn’t know it yet.