Falling For The Deputy Part 8

Chloe looked directly at her hostess. What, specifically, are you trying to tell me?

June flashed a Ches.h.i.+re cat smile. Oh, its a new day. And I often get to pondering after Ive had my first cup of Earl Grey. Think nothing of it.

Right. What did people want to tell Chloe about Mack, but felt they couldnt? Not directly, at least. Chloe grabbed her backpack to follow June downstairs. Then the inn owner headed for her guests in the dining room and Chloe turned toward the front parlor.

Mack sat sprawled in a chair too small for him, his head thrown back, sound asleep. Coffee and biscuits sat untouched on a nearby table. The man probably hadnt slept more than a couple of hours last night. If at all.

Deirdre Kinkaid would not like the emotion that welled up inside Chloe. It was one of those ahhh feelings better left to photos of kittens and teddy bears with hats. And strong men with the least show of vulnerability.

When she stepped forward, the heart-pine floorboards creaked and he woke up with a reflexive jerk. He narrowed his eyes as if he was struggling to recognize her.

Mack?

I was last I looked, he said, wincing as he ma.s.saged his arm. Come on. The cruiser needs a bath. He looked at her feet. Youre going to ruin those shoes. You got any real boots?

No.

Well take care of that.

We was a promising word.

The day had dawned bright and clear with only the damp earth strewn with shredded leaves and the distant sound of chain saws to indicate thered even been a storm the day before. Chloe knew, however, that not everyone was as lucky as those on Main Street.

Whats the damage update? she asked.

Power outages are still the biggest headache.

How are your parents?

Doing okay. His evasiveness hinted the truth might be something else.

And then he did something strange. He opened the pa.s.senger door of the patrol car for her. She was shocked into silence.

He didnt speak, either, during the drive to Wal-Mart, where he led her to the hunting-and-fis.h.i.+ng section and instructed her to try on, then purchase a pair of big black, rubber farm boots. Hands on hips, he stood in the parking lot until she put them on. Lord, the things were ugly. Was this some kind of practical joke?

The corner of Macks mouth twitched. Daisy Duke, youre not, he said. But youre ready for the car wash.

Why did it sting that he thought she was unattractive?

As they hit the road again, she tried to get her thoughts back to business. Ive interviewed the other deputies, she began. And you, of course. But can you tell me something about the sheriff?

The thing that tells the most about the sheriff is the department. Look at how it runs as a unit even when hes gone. Thats testament to his work.

I can see that, she said, irritated by his evasiveness and the fact that her backpack and now the enormous boots were reducing her legroom in the cruiser. But what about the personality that drives the man?

Do you need to know that?

I do if I want the public to read an in-depth and compelling article and not just a dry essay, she said, starting to put her feet up on the dashboard.

Hey, dont even think about it, Mack snapped, pointing at her oversize boots. At the self-service car wash, he pulled the cruiser into an empty bay on the end and cut the engine. When he looked at her, his expression was unreadable.

Whats Garrett like? he said. Let me put it this way. The honeymoon hes on makes the first two consecutive days of vacation hes ever taken.

Wow, Chloe breathed. His wife must be something.

She is, Mack replied with such conviction Chloe wondered if hed ever, at any time, had a romantic interest in the sheriffs wife. He plunked a roll of quarters in her hand before getting out of the car. Ill wash. Your job is to feed the meter.

She clambered out of the pa.s.senger side. The boots made it impossible to move with any speed or grace. For a job this simple she had to dress like a goober? She had the feeling that Macks tactic, after hed resigned himself to letting her follow him, was to keep her off balance.

That only fueled her instincts to dig deeper.

Heads up! Mack said, grabbing the power-wash wand and aiming it at the car. Chloe blinked as a fine mist drifted in her direction, and he caught himself paying less attention to the car and more attention to her, standing in some odd, safari-type outfit, in boots that swamped her. Looking very, very appealing. She radiated a freshness, appeared grounded as if she lived in a world that was explainable, manageable. Hed like to live in that world.

Why had he brought her to the car wash this morning? It was part of a deputys job, sure, but not a particularly important one. He could have let her sleep in after the work shed done yesterday. Could have brought her to the courthouse later when he was scheduled to pick up and distribute the civil processes. She hadnt seen that yet. So why had he brought her along now?

Because hed woken up this morning, wanting to see her.

This thing is beeping already, she called out. Do I feed it more money?

Yes. He hadnt even wet down the entire car yet. Only the front grille.

And she noticed. Deputy Whittaker, youre not making the most efficient use of county money. Shall we switch jobs?

Right, he replied, making broad sweeps with the wand. As if youd know what to do. When was the last time you washed that car of yours?

Never. Its a form of conservation. Very forward-thinking.

Having fed the meter, she grabbed a long-handled brush from a hook on the bay wall and began to scrub at resistant spots of mud. Her strawberry-blond hair had gone curly with the humidity and a lock dangled over one eye. She blew at it, but kept on scrubbing. What would it be like to kiss those lips now puckered in concentration? What kind of woman would she be in bed?

Bossy.

He chuckled.

Whats so funny?

Nothing. Especially if Garrett came home to find his deputy-in-charge had bedded the investigative reporter. Here, you missed a spot. And the coin machines beeping again.

Why do I get the feeling Im doing all the work? she groused, popping six quarters into the machine.

Because Im in charge.

The sudden flare of her nostrils spoke volumes. She did not relish being subordinate. He thought back to her reaction to the storm when they were in his mothers bas.e.m.e.nt. Apparently she didnt like events out of her control either. Who did? But what was ever under your control? he thought cynically.

The least you could do is answer some questions.

Okay. Her questions were probably safer than his wandering thoughts. Shoot.

When did you first want to follow a career in law enforcement?

Dont all boys grow up playing cops and robbers? I guess I never stopped.

Did you play with Garrett McQuire when you were kids?

Since third grade. You could say we were inseparable.

Thats why youre his sons G.o.dfather.

Yup.

Did he play sports with you in high school?

No. He worked pretty near full-time after school from the minute he was old enough to get a permit.

Ah. A workaholic from an early age.

No. Simply trying to stay out of his foster parents way. Trying to earn something he could call his own.

She stopped scrubbing. Did the sheriff go to Iraq, too?

No. Even though the water was still running, Mack shoved the power-wash wand into its holder. The outsides clean enough. Im going to drive the car over to the vacuum station. I brought old towels. You can dry. Ill get the inside.

He got in the cruiser and pulled out of the bay. In the rearview mirror he could see her watching. Could sense the gears in that quick brain of hers clicking.

Well, he wasnt going to talk about Iraq. Not with her. Not with anybody. That place was relegated to the other side of the globe. And his nightmares.

Now he knew how to control any rogue thoughts of Chloe and him between the sheets. All he needed to do was remind himself she was hardwired to probe for answers. With someone like that, hed never find peace.

At the vacuum station, he began excavating fast-food wrappers from the car. He could hear the clop-clop of boots as Chloe approached, but he didnt look up. Not even when he could sense her standing right behind him.

Why dont you want to talk about your service experience? she asked softly.

G.o.d, the woman didnt let up.

Clutching two fistfuls of trash, he stalked to the trash can and unloaded the wrappers before unhooking the vacuum hose. How many quarters do you have left?

She brought over the remaining coins, then stood facing him.

What do you want from me? he asked, unable to keep the growl from the back of his throat. My army tour has nothing to do with my job in the sheriffs department. So leave it alone.

Folks around here look up to you. As she spoke, she placed the quarters in his hand. One at a time. Deliberately. Underscoring each sentence. In part because you didnt s.h.i.+rk your duty when called. The respect makes your job run more smoothly.

Thats what you think, huh?

Unless you tell me otherwise. Having placed the last coin in his hand, she stared at him, studying him. His palm felt hot where shed touched it. If you have medals, I a.s.sume you received an honorable discharge.

I did. Although no one was ever going to convince him he deserved one.

When he broke eye contact to jam quarters into the machine, Chloe knew shed been shut off. Apparently shed pushed Mack too far. And again his war experience had been the line in the sand. Deirdre would tell her to use sources outside Colum County to find answers, but Chloe didnt know. She just didnt know. Maybe her mantra about facts and information wasnt powerful enough to push her into anothers obvious pain.

For the past fourteen years, shed kept people at bay when theyd wanted to know more about her than bare-bones statistics. For the first three years out of college, shed checked other peoples copy for errors before the Sun sent the articles to print. She didnt get close to her coworkers. Not emotionally. For the past two years, shed written articles on seasonal plants, on drought conditions, on garden-club meetings, all the while thinking she wanted to get out and write about meatier issues. But meatier issues meant asking tough questions that she wouldnt want asked of herself.

Coming up against a man very much the same, she had her first doubts about her chosen career.

She took one of the towels stacked on the back seat and began to dry the exterior. She finished in silence. As she sat with the pa.s.senger door open and exchanged the ugly rubber boots for her shoes, she didnt even listen to the conversation Mack was having with the dispatcher on the two-way radio.

Finally turning his attention to Chloe, he simply said, We need to stop back at headquarters before picking up the processes at the courthouse.

Can I get something to eat? I left Junes without breakfast.

She expected him to snap at her. He didnt.

You can go upstairs to the staff kitchen while I take care of some business with Nash. Although his voice was flat, there was a hint of relief. Relief that she wouldnt be hanging around for this particular transaction?

She didnt push the issue. Instead, on the ride back to Main Street, she tried to sort out the thrust of her article. A clear story arc. Trouble was, this was her fourth day in town, and her thoughts were still jumbled and her notes of little use. If Deirdre asked for her copy now, Chloe could write up a description of the sheriffs department, complete with history, duties, personnel descriptions and impact on the community. But that wasnt the real story.

The real story was Deputy Mack Whittaker, but he wasnt giving it up.

Back at headquarters, she left him talking to the dispatcher while she climbed the stairs to the kitchen. Deputy Rollins sat at the central table. Hed been introduced as the rookie on the force, although he looked maybe ten years older than Chloe.

Glancing up from his newspaper, he nodded in greeting.

From the sidebar, she got a cup of coffee, a container of yogurt and a banana, then sat beside him.

You know, he said, lowering the paper, Ive been trying to place you. The name Atherton rings a bell.

Well, I didnt grow up around here. She licked the peeled-off yogurt lid.

Me, neither. Im from Atlanta.

Chloe froze with her tongue halfway out.

Wh-what brings you to the mountains? she managed to ask, steering the conversation to him.

My wife, he replied, giving Chloe one long, final look before shaking his head. She wanted to raise our kids on some land with a garden, a dog and chickens.

Hows that working out? She made herself nonchalantly stir the yogurt with her plastic spoon.

Not too good. Word traveled fast that my wife is a soft touch. We have seven dogs now. All of them dropped off on different occasions in the dead of night on our front porch. Im going broke with neutering fees.

Chloe breathed more easily now that the conversation had turned from her. Theres a special place in heaven for your wife. But how about you? The job treating you okay?

Sure is. I dont feel like a cog in a wheel the way I did in the city. Because Im not always pulling double s.h.i.+fts, I have more time to work on my songs.

Youre a songwriter?

You can catch my act on Sat.u.r.day at the Pillar and Post. Have Whittaker bring you.

The idea of Mack out for a night of fun was a thought hard to get her mind around. Do you see him much after-hours? she asked.