Ask Anyone

3

T he God-blessed car was out of gas. Jenna pounded the steering wheel in frustration. Naturally, to make matters worse, her cell phone was dead. She’d used up the battery the night before trying to convince her daughter that it was absolutely not okay, much less necessary, for her to dye her hair purple. Darcy had cried and pleaded and accused Jenna of ruining her life. If Darcy was this difficult at nine, what would she be like when she hit her teens? At any rate, Jenna had been so exhausted by the long-distance battle that she hadn’t thought to recharge the phone.

It was 9:52 a.m. She had exactly eight minutes to get to the yacht center. In her running shoes she might have been able to do it. In three-inch spike heels, she didn’t have a prayer.

Maybe Bobby Spencer wasn’t quite as much of a tight-ass as he’d seemed yesterday. Maybe she could be a few minutes late and still catch him.

Yeah, right. The man had looked at her as if he’d rather be dealing with the devil. He’d obviously seize any excuse at all not to consider the Pennington and Sons proposal.

She stripped off her shoes, thanked heaven that her skirt had a slit in it and grabbed her briefcase off the seat. She hit the sidewalk at a dead run, grateful that she’d taken up jogging as a way to relieve stress.

Pounding along the pavement, praying that she’d gotten through to Darcy, praying even harder that she would not miss this appointment and blow her one and only chance to earn a little respect from her father, she concluded that this particular run was not likely to reduce her stress one iota. If anything, she was getting more anxious with every painful step she took.

Seven minutes and thirty seconds later, she reached the yacht center. She had runs in her hose, blisters on her feet and her hair no doubt looked as if it had been styled in a wind tunnel, but she was on time.

Bobby Spencer, however, was nowhere in sight and not even expected.

Jenna stared at the secretary. “He’s not here,” she repeated incredulously, certain she had to have misunderstood.

“Never gets in before eleven,” the young woman said, clearly working to contain her curiosity over Jenna’s disheveled appearance.

The woman’s own attire consisted of shorts that showed off her long legs and a crisply pressed blouse with one too many buttons left open to display an ample amount of cleavage. Obviously Bobby did not stress professional decorum, or maybe at a yacht center, this was the appropriate uniform, Jenna concluded. She was probably the one who was seriously overdressed…or had been when she’d left her car, anyway.

“Never?” she echoed, still certain that she had to be missing something.

“Not once in the year I’ve worked for him,” the woman said. “Are you sure he said to be here at ten?”

“Oh, I am very sure he said ten,” Jenna said, gritting her teeth. Her temper, which she usually worked really, really hard to contain, began to simmer. “Are you saying there has never been one single occasion when he’s been here before eleven?”

“Not that I can recall,” the woman said blithely. “He works late at night. Besides, he’s just not a morning person. Believe me, you don’t want to see him at this hour. In fact, if you’d like a little advice, I’d suggest you come back around two. He’s pretty cheerful by then, especially if the reservations are up for dinner.”

“Look…what’s your name?”

“Maggie.”

“Okay, Maggie, here’s the thing. I saw Mr. Spencer yesterday. He told me to be here at ten. He made a really big deal about it. My car broke down, but I busted my butt to be on time. Could you get on that phone and track him down and tell him that I’m here and getting more aggravated by the minute that he’s not?”

Maggie grinned. “You really want me to tell him that?”

Jenna sighed. “Okay, you can leave out the part about my attitude. Just try to hurry him along. I need to get back to Baltimore. I hadn’t intended to stay overnight in the first place.” In fact, she’d planned to be sitting cheerfully at her desk this morning with a contract in hand. Obviously she’d been overly optimistic about her powers of persuasion.

“Maybe you could think of this little delay as a blessing in disguise,” Maggie suggested. Then she added tactfully, “You know, and use the time to kind of put yourself back together. Not that appearances are everything, but you look kinda like you tangled with a wrestler or something. I’ve got a sewing kit right here I could loan you.”

Jenna stared at her blankly. “A sewing kit?”

“Your skirt,” Maggie said, then gestured. “And your jacket.”

Jenna looked down. The slit in her skirt now extended almost to the waistband. Any movement, she concluded with a horrified stare, revealed way too much of her lower anatomy. Two buttons on her jacket were hanging by threads, which left a gaping space across her chest featuring an even more ample display of skin and lace than Maggie herself was sharing with the world. No wonder she’d encountered a series of astounded stares and heard several cars skid to a stop en route to the yacht center. She was lucky that brother of Bobby’s hadn’t come along to arrest her for indecent exposure.

“Oh, God,” she murmured, collapsing into a chair with a heartfelt moan.

“Now don’t get upset,” Maggie said, bouncing up at once. She was as refreshingly eager as an accommodating kid as she rummaged in her desk. “Here’s the sewing kit.” She glanced worriedly from the array of tiny spools of thread to Jenna’s outfit, then grabbed the stapler. “Come with me. We’ll have you fixed up in no time. It might not be pretty, but you will be decent.”

“What if the phone starts ringing or Mr. Spencer comes while you’re away from your desk?” Jenna said as she dragged herself out of the chair.

“Nobody important calls in the morning,” Maggie assured her. “They all know how Bobby is. And you don’t need to worry about him, either. He’s a sweetie once he’s had his coffee. You should see him. It’s like this ritual the way he grinds the beans, then hovers over it as it brews. It’s a little compulsive, if you ask me, but the coffee is way better than the instant kind I make at home. Anyway, once he’s had his first cup, he’s a doll.”

“Really?” Jenna regarded her skeptically as Maggie led the way into a nearby bathroom. Jenna stripped off her skirt and jacket and they went to work with needle, thread and stapler.

“Oh, sure. Everyone knows that,” Maggie said. “Everybody in town loves Bobby. Well, except for the mayor, but he thinks Bobby is a threat to his power. As if Bobby would ever want that job. He has all the power he needs just being a Spencer. Did you know that his ancestors founded this town? They came over from Jamestown. Not that Bobby flaunts that. I think it embarrasses him when I tell people, but I think it’s just so cool. People should know, don’t you think?”

“You admire him?” Jenna concluded.

“What’s not to admire? He’s nice. He’s gorgeous. He works hard. He’s from a great family.”

Since Maggie was a young, attractive woman with no wedding band on her finger, Jenna asked, “Are you more than his secretary?”

“You mean like a one-woman cheerleading squad or something?” Maggie asked, then paled. “Or do you mean is there something going on romantically between us? Good grief, no.” She paused to consider the idea. “He’s kind of sexy, I suppose. That earring makes him look like a pirate. But he’s way older than me.”

“He can’t be more than thirty,” Jenna pointed out.

“Twenty-eight, actually, but I’m only nineteen, and I’m not going to get seriously involved with anyone for years and years—and then it won’t be with Bobby Spencer.”

More curious than she ought to be, Jenna asked, “Why not, especially if he’s such a paragon?”

“Because we’re friends,” Maggie said simply. “He treats me like a kid sister. Heck, he used to baby-sit my brother and me.”

“And you’ve never had a crush on him? Not even a little one?”

“No way,” Maggie claimed emphatically. “He’s really nice, if you know what I mean. I want a man with more of an edge. A guy who’s a little dangerous.” Her expression turned dreamy.

“Trust me, dangerous is highly overrated,” Jenna told her. “Nice is a better alternative.”

Maggie’s gaze narrowed and her expression turned thoughtful. “So, what do you think of Bobby? I heard about the commotion at his house yesterday. I would have given anything to be there to see his face.”

“Actually, he looked a little ticked,” Jenna confided as Maggie stitched and stapled her skirt back together, while Jenna herself worked on the buttons on her jacket. The designer suit looked as if it had been pieced together by drunken elves.

Maggie’s expression brightened at Jenna’s description of Bobby’s reaction. “To tell you the truth, that’s a good thing,” she declared. “We’ve all been saying for a long time now that somebody needs to come along and shake up that man’s life. He’s in a rut, emotionally speaking, that is. Not that he listens to me. He just rolls his eyes and walks away as if a kid my age couldn’t possibly have anything intelligent to say about love.”

Jenna didn’t give two figs what kind of rut the man was in. She wanted to sell him on this proposal and get out of town with a signed contract in hand. She had to get back to Baltimore before Darcy defied her and dyed her hair purple. Even if Darcy used something temporary, like a powdered-grape-drink mix, it would be enough to send her grandfather’s blood pressure soaring.

“Maggie, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why has your boss been refusing to take my calls? Is it because I’m a woman?”

Maggie looked genuinely astonished by the question. “Why would you think that?”

“It’s just the way some men in business are,” Jenna said, thinking of her father.

“Not Bobby,” Maggie assured her. “It’s just what I’ve told you on the phone. He’s not talking to anybody about the boardwalk yet. Bobby likes to mull things over before he acts. He doesn’t rush into anything. Some of that’s Southern. Some of it’s just Bobby being Bobby. Don’t take it personally. He’s refused to talk to any of the men who’ve called, too.”

Jenna accepted the explanation at face value. “You’ve been a godsend,” she told the young woman as she straightened her skirt, shrugged into her jacket and tried to adjust it. They weren’t perfect, but they would do. “Thank you. I couldn’t have gotten myself put back together without you.”

For the first time, as she started to button up the jacket, she risked a look in the mirror. Her cheeks were still flushed. Her hair, which had started the day in a nice, neat French twist, was hanging down around her shoulders in a tangle of untamed curls.

Of course, that image reflected back at her wasn’t nearly as disconcerting as the image of Bobby Spencer’s stunned expression right next to it.

A half-dressed Jenna Kennedy was standing in his private bathroom. Bobby reluctantly dragged his gaze from full breasts barely covered with scraps of lace to her startled face.

“Seen enough?” she snapped.

He blinked. “Sorry,” he said, then shut the door. “Maggie, get out here!”

His secretary emerged from the bathroom. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded.

“Long story, boss. Jenna will be out in a minute. She can explain. I’ve got work to do.”

He shook his head. “Oh, no, you don’t. Get back here. Since when are you anxious to get to work?”

“Since five seconds ago,” she said with an unrepentant grin. “Go easy on her. She’s had a rough morning.”

Bobby sighed. “I’m not in the habit of terrorizing people.”

“You know that and I know that,” Maggie agreed. “She doesn’t seem to be so sure. Why is that?”

Bobby had no intention of going down that particular road, not with a female who’d long since declared her intention to find him a woman. Between Maggie and his father, his personal life was doomed. He sure as heck didn’t want either of them getting the idea of dragging Jenna Pennington Kennedy into it.

“Never mind,” he said. “Go to work.”

“I made coffee,” she said, looking pleased with herself. “Just in case you didn’t have time, what with your early meeting and all. It’s instant, but it’s better than nothing.”

Bobby shuddered. “No, it’s not. From now on, leave the coffee brewing to me. Yours tastes like axle grease.”

He walked through the yacht center to the restaurant kitchen, prepared a decent pot of coffee, poured two cups, then took them back to his office and sat behind his desk. Jenna still hadn’t emerged from his bathroom. He alternately checked his watch and gazed warily at the door as if a restless tiger might be lurking behind it. Finally the knob turned and his pulse kicked up a notch. He deliberately attributed it to annoyance at her tardiness, because anything else was unacceptable.

“You’re late,” he said, just to emphasize his displeasure.

Those bright patches of color in her cheeks deepened. “No,” she said, just as emphatically. “I was right on time. Imagine my surprise when I was told that you never come in before eleven. If I’d known that, I could have found a better way to get here than running all the way.”

He stared. “You ran? Why?”

“My car ran out of gas. Because you made such a big deal about me being on time, I got out, took off my shoes, hiked up my skirt and ran, which is why you found me in your bathroom looking like a complete wreck, and that was after Maggie and I had repaired most of the damage.”

“I see.” A dozen questions came to mind, along with quite a few disconcerting images. He would have paid money to see her crosstown race to get here. In fact, he was surprised he hadn’t heard about it from someone by now. Then again, maybe that explained a couple of the fender benders he’d spotted along a normally quiet road.

She eyed him warily. “That’s all you have to say? I see? ”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You could have called and explained.”

She shook her head. “My cell phone was dead.” As if she realized she was making a less than stellar impression, she drew in a deep breath and said, “Maybe we should just forget all this and get straight to my ideas for your boardwalk development. This is just preliminary, of course, to make sure we’re on the same wavelength. It can be adjusted and it will have to be fleshed out with architectural renderings.”

Bobby sighed. This was what they were here for, though he was no more enthusiastic now than he’d been the day before. “Sure. Why not?” Listening didn’t mean he had to agree to anything.

But as Jenna talked about a park setting, about family-style attractions, about picnics and concerts and sidewalk cafés that would become gathering places for a community, he began to see a revitalized area along the riverfront that would be absolutely perfect for Trinity Harbor. Not overwhelming, not unmanageable, but ideally suited for the small town atmosphere he wanted to preserve, even while contributing to the area’s economic growth.

“I assume the centerpiece would be an antique carousel,” he said.

She blinked as if he’d pulled the idea out of thin air. “How did you know?”

He chuckled at her pretense of amazement. “I might not be the professional cop that my brother is, but that horse you sent was a definite clue.”

“Isn’t he the most amazing thing?” she said, her eyes lighting up. “You have no idea what I had to go through to find that particular carousel. It’s very rare.”

“I’m sure,” he said. “Thank heavens, though, you got it out of my front yard.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she looked as if he’d just revealed that the blasted thing had been kidnapped.

“It’s gone?” she whispered in a shocked tone.

“Since a couple of hours ago,” he said, watching worriedly as her skin turned pale. “You had it picked up, didn’t you?”

She shook her head. “What happened to the overnight guard? My arrangement was that he would stay right there with it until his replacement came this morning.”

“I have no idea. He was gone by the time I left the house.” He studied her stricken expression. “Are you telling me that someone stole that horse?”

Jenna nodded.

Bobby couldn’t believe it. Who would steal a carousel horse? He turned on her suspiciously. “Is this some sort of scam? Or a publicity stunt? I am not paying for that horse. It was your bright idea that it was down here in the first place. I was never responsible for keeping it secure.”

“I know.” She buried her face in her hands. “Oh, God,” she murmured. “My father is right. I am the world’s worst screwup. That horse is worth a fortune. And the rest of the carousel won’t be worth all that much without it. What was I thinking? I should have known something awful would happen. It always does. How am I ever supposed to convince my father that I can handle anything important when I keep messing up the simplest things?”

Her plaintive tone struck a responsive note somewhere deep inside Bobby. He knew a whole lot about judgmental fathers. “Insurance?” he suggested hopefully.

She shook her head. “The guard was cheaper. I used every last penny of my savings to buy that carousel and hire the security company to watch over the horse for a couple of days. Even if they’re liable, it will take forever to get paid.”

Bobby reached for the phone. “I’ll get Tucker over here,” he said grimly. He wanted that antique carousel horse found and found fast, because the protective feelings that Jenna Kennedy stirred in him had trouble written all over them.

While they waited for Tucker, Bobby brought Jenna a glass of brandy. It was early in the day, but she looked as if she might go into shock at any second. He did not want her fainting on him. If she did, he’d have to touch her, and he knew exactly how dangerous that could be.

“Drink it,” he ordered.

She eyed the glass warily. “What is it?”

“Brandy.”

“No, thanks. I have to drive.”

“If that horse is missing, you’re not going anywhere till it’s found, am I right?”

She sighed and reached for the glass. She took one sip and choked on it. “I really don’t think I’m the brandy type,” she said. “Is there any root beer around?”

It was Bobby’s turn to sigh. “I’ll get it.”

He was on his way back to his office when Tucker arrived, sirens blaring and lights flashing.

“Announce to the world that I’m in the middle of another scene, why don’t you?” Bobby grumbled.

“You wanted me here in a hurry, didn’t you?”

“Not half as much as I want the woman in there gone,” Bobby told his brother.

“So send her home,” Tucker said, as if it were a simple matter.

“I would, but there’s the issue of the missing horse.”

Tucker’s lips twitched. “The carousel horse?”

“That’s the one,” Bobby confirmed. “Gone. Apparently stolen out of my front yard this morning.”

Tucker glanced toward Bobby’s office. “Think she had anything to do with it?”

“The exact same thought crossed my mind,” Bobby admitted. “But no. I saw her face when I told her it was gone. Nobody’s that good an actress.”

“How much is that thing worth?”

“I’m guessing not much without the carousel,” Bobby said. “But then the rest of the merry-go-round isn’t worth a heck of a lot without the missing horse, either. Even if she found a replacement, it would be a miracle if it were a perfect match.”

“It’s quite a dilemma, isn’t it?” Tucker said. His expression brightened. “Maybe someone will call and demand a ransom.”

“Your wait-and-see attitude toward crime is beginning to get on my nerves,” Bobby told him. “Don’t try it with Jenna. She’s in a fragile state.”

His brother looked fascinated by that revelation. “Is that so? And that’s a concern of yours because…?”

“Because I want that woman and that horse out of town and out of my life,” he said. “I can’t believe that twenty-four hours ago I had exactly the kind of peaceful existence I like.”

“You were in a rut,” Tucker countered. “This is good for you.”

Bobby scowled and stalked right past him. He was not going to get into a debate about his low-key lifestyle choice with his brother, not when they had a crisis to resolve.

“Tucker’s here,” he announced as he walked into his office.

Jenna looked up at him with bright eyes shimmering with unshed tears. His heart did an unexpected flip-flop. Probably some sort of fibrillation, he concluded hopefully. He did not want that sensation to be in any way connected to Jenna Pennington Kennedy or her problems or those huge, vulnerable green eyes of hers.

“Thank you for coming, Sheriff,” she said politely to Tucker.

“No problem,” Tucker assured her. “Why don’t you tell me what you know?”

“I don’t really know anything,” she said, regarding him miserably. “I didn’t even know the horse was gone, till Bobby told me just now. I’d paid the security company to keep a guard with it till I picked it up on my way back to Baltimore.”

“What’s the name of the company?” Tucker asked.

Jenna told him. “They’re based in Richmond. They’re very reputable. I made sure of that. My father always expects the worst of me, so I was trying very hard to do this right.”

Tucker pointed toward the phone on Bobby’s desk. “May I?”

“By all means,” Bobby said.

His brother called information, got the number for the security company, then called and asked for the owner.

“Mr. Kendrick, this is Sheriff Spencer over in Westmoreland County. I understand you were supplying security for Pennington and Sons at a private home over here.”

Bobby watched Jenna as she listened to Tucker’s end of the conversation. She looked increasingly dejected as Tucker nodded, jotted a few notes and murmured quite a few completely unintelligible replies.

“I see,” he said at last. “Thanks for your time. I’ll be in touch.”

He hung up the phone slowly, then glanced at Jenna, his expression unreadable.

“What?” she said. “What did he say?”

“That the guard who was supposed to be on duty this morning just got back to Richmond and left on vacation.”

Bobby stared at his brother. “What the hell does that mean? Was it sudden?”

“Nope. He’d scheduled it weeks ago. But it could be he stole the horse himself and is anticipating a big payday,” Tucker suggested. “Or somebody else has already paid him off to disappear. How much is that horse worth, anyway?”

Jenna named a staggering amount, her voice barely above a whisper. “The carousel is very rare,” she added.

“No kidding,” Bobby said dryly. “What the devil were you thinking?” Jenna’s face crumpled, and tears slid down her pale cheeks. He felt like he’d just kicked a kitten. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“Of course you did,” she said, her expression bleak. “Why shouldn’t you say it? My father certainly will.”

“Which is precisely why I shouldn’t have,” Bobby said. “Believe me, I’ve been in your shoes more times than I care to count.”

“He has,” Tucker confirmed. “When it comes to sensitivity, King Spencer missed the classes.”

Jenna heaved a sigh. “My father didn’t even know there were classes.”

Ignoring his better judgment, Bobby gave her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. “Don’t worry. Tucker will track down that security guard and figure out what’s going on.”

“I don’t have time to wait for that,” Jenna said. “I have to get home. I have a daughter who wants to dye her hair purple.”

Bobby held up his hands. “I don’t even want to know about that one. You go on home. Keep the dye away from your daughter. Tucker will be in touch.”