“Yes. My stager is an artist, but she’s also a temperamental one. In this case, it worked because the spread is one of our best.”
Maureen didn’t answer with words, just stared before she asked, “Where are you off to in such a hurry.” The little smile suggested she knew exactly where Arissa was heading.
Arissa thought about evading, even lying, but it was a small town. Maureen would know before she finished her morning coffee where Arissa was going.
“I’m going to see the sheriff.”
Maureen leaned against Arissa’s car, and didn’t hide the grin when she asked, “Another lake?”
“No.”
Maureen glanced at her empty wrist and asked, “At this early hour?” She stepped back, lifted her hand. “No need to explain.” She took another step, “But the ladies and I will need a full report later.”
“I’m not getting out of that, am I?” Arissa asked.
“No,” Maureen said then turned for her house, lifting her hand over her head and wiggling her fingers. “Give the sheriff my best.”
Arissa laughed before she climbed into her car. She drove a bit like Hyacinth getting to the station. It was early, but she hoped not too early. She hadn’t experienced butterflies like the ones going off in her stomach in a very long time. Parking, she practically jumped from the car. Yanking open the station house door, it wasn’t Jo who greeted her. A man sat at her desk, dressed in the Summerville uniform. His head lifted when she entered.
“Can I help you?”
It was only then, standing in the station house that she allowed herself to acknowledge her actions were going to stir rumors, but at that moment she didn’t care. “I’d like to see the sheriff.”
The man leaned back in his chair, his eyes never left her, as a grin curved his mouth on one side. “You must be the flood victim,” he said then stood, walking around the desk. He held out his hand. “I’m Mike.”
Arissa took it. “Arissa.”
He held her hand a beat longer than was polite, while he studied her like he could read her mind. Releasing her hand, he said, “He’s not in. Had some trouble up at Canyon Creek. I suspect he’ll be there for a while. Is there something I can help you with?”
The adrenaline Arissa had been running on vaporized. She was tempted to drive up to Canyon Creek, but Hank was working…talk about stirring the rumor mill, showing up to a crime scene to talk to the sheriff, or rather with how she was feeling, jumping the sheriff was more like it.
She realized Mike was waiting to assist her. “Thank you, but I’ll wait to talk with the sheriff.”
“Did Billie fix the plumbing?”
“He did.”
Mike chuckled. “Getting him to do the work is a challenge, but he’s good when he puts the darts down.”
That comment had Arissa commenting almost absently. “I never knew people took darts so seriously.”
Mike stood a bit taller. Pride moving over his expression. “It’s our NASCAR.”
That was how Jo had described it too. “I’ve only played a few times, but I am looking forward to the game tonight.” She was more excited to see Hank, but she kept that to herself.
The phone rang. “One sec,” Mike said, and hurried to answer it. It wasn’t an emergency when he laughed out loud. “Morning to you too. No worries. I can manage until you get here. Talking to Arissa.”
Mike held the phone from his ear. Arissa could hear Jo from where she stood.
“Not so loud,” Mike shouted back. “Yeah, I’ll tell her. Okay. See you soon.”
Mike dropped the phone, shook his head. “Damn, my ear is ringing.” Mike chuckled. “Uncanny. It’s like she’s got eyes and ears everywhere. Jo said to meet her here at six thirty for the game.”
“I’ll be here.” The phone rang again. Arissa started for the door. “It was nice meeting you, Mike.”
He reached for the phone but didn’t lift it. “Nice meeting you. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Tonight,” Arissa said, then walked out to Mike saying, “Summerville PD. How can I help you?”
* * *
Why kids insisted on taking their four wheelers to Canyon Creek he didn’t know. The old quarry wasn’t safe. Kevin and Scott were lucky, only a few cuts and bruises. It could have been a hell of a lot worse.
On his way back to the station, he took a detour. She was back. She’d stopped to see him before she left but he hadn’t heard from her since. He thought to wait for her to come to him, but fuck he wanted to see her. He knew driving by her house was going to stir shit, Maureen likely had her fucking face pressed up against the glass watching and waiting. He didn’t give a fuck, but reaching her street, her driveway was empty. Fuck. He could wait for her, but parking in front of her house would only add fuel to the rumor fire. He drove past. Where the hell was she at this hour? By the time he reached the station, he was in a foul mood. Another headache was brewing. Mike greeted him when he entered. He replied with a low growl.
“That good a morning, huh?” Mike teased.
“We’re banning all four wheelers,” Hank hissed. It wasn’t the situation earlier that put him in a bad mood, but Mike didn’t need the details.
Mike sat back in his chair and grinned. “I’ll get on writing up that ordinance.”
“No,” Hank said, moving to the coffee pot.
“You had a visitor earlier,” Mike said as he stood, coming around the desk.
Hank stopped walking, and looked back at Mike. Waiting. When Mike just continued to stare, Hank barked, “Who?”
Mike intentionally waited a beat before he said, “Arissa Haywood. The rumors about her are spot on. A looker, that one.”
Hank curled his hands but kept his tone even. “What’d she want?”
“To talk to you. I offered my assistance, but she wanted you.”
Mike’s choice of words had Hank feeling primal because he wanted her too.
“She’ll be at the game tonight. She’s going with
