Jeannie Watt Read online

  Tara was sitting at the table sipping coffee when Matt showed up the next morning.

  “You look bad.”

  “Thanks,” she answered with a smirk. He walked past her to the coffeepot.

  “Couldn’t sleep?”

  “Phone call,” she replied, smothering a yawn. “Early in the morning. The machine got it, but they hung up and afterward, I couldn’t get back to sleep.”

  “Nicky, maybe?”

  “I already talked to him. It was just a wrong number.”

  Tara yawned again, and decided not to mention the deer. In the light of day, her paranoia the night before seemed foolish. It had to have been an animal. Her place was too far out of town for someone to walk to easily, and there were no cars around last night. None that she was aware of anyway. Why would Ryan be sneaking around her place anyway?

  Very, very paranoid, Tara. She was going to have to work on getting over this.

  A TALL, LANKY GUY with dark red hair showed up soon after Matt downed his first cup of coffee to help him move appliances and, from the way Tara greeted him, Matt knew he was one of her small group of loyal friends.

  “Ben. Matt,” said Tara. The two men nodded at each other. Matt could see that he was being sized up, and it wasn’t in the now familiar so-this-is-the-guy-who-punched-Eddie-Johnson way, but rather in the Rafe Sanchez you-better-treat-her-right way.

  “The floor crew is due in an hour,” Tara said, putting a stop to the face-off.

  Matt grabbed a hand truck. Ben started taking the porch door off its hinges. Neither man spoke again until the actual lifting began, which rapidly turned into a bonding experience. Tara didn’t have ordinary appliances, but rather sturdy, restaurant-quality stainless steel along with some equally sturdy antiques. And they were heavy.

  When Tara tried to help, they both insisted that she stand back. She’d shaken her head in disgust while Matt and Ben waltzed and wrestled with big stoves and oversized refrigerators.

  One more big mother freezer to go….

  Matt stopped with one hand resting on the top of the counter, the other on his thigh, catching his breath. String bean Ben was doing the same. He gestured to the massive appliance.

  “Ready for another go, John Law?”

  Matt nodded, not one bit surprised Ben knew he was a cop. “Whenever you are, Opie.”

  TARA WISHED the two guys struggling in her kitchen would knock off the machismo and let her help. There was enough testosterone in the room to float a small boat and she was actually glad Rafe had been called out on an emergency and wasn’t there adding to the male hormone-fest.

  She really needed to get some female friends. Nicky was right.

  “Why didn’t you put the floor in before you bought the appliances?” Ben grunted “That is how normal people do it.”

  “One guess,” Tara said darkly.

  “Does it start with an S?”

  “It does.” Somers. Good old Martin Somers. He’d let it be known in that underhanded way of his that he was redoing the Inn’s floors and anyone who wanted consideration for that contract had better not be doing business with Tara Sullivan.

  “Figures. That’s why these guys are coming down from Idaho, I take it.”

  “That’s why.”

  Ben and Matt maneuvered the huge stove through the thankfully large kitchen door and gently eased it down on the porch. “You know, Tara,” Ben said mopping at his forehead with his sleeve, “you might consider how many people really look at a kitchen floor.”

  “When the asphalt backing starts showing through, they look.”

  Ben took a big gulp of air. “Fine. At least I get a day’s breather before we put the stuff back. Maybe Rafe will deign to show by then. This is definitely a three-man job.”

  “I offered to be the third man,” Tara pointed out and was rewarded with two rather withering looks.

  “You’re both fired,” she muttered.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  TARA WALKED BEN to his truck a half hour later, just as the flooring van came into sight. “So that’s your protector.” He was obviously referring to Matt.

  Tara narrowed her eyes. “Why did you call him that?”

  “I heard he put locks on all of your doors. Spent a night or two. You know. Stuff like that.” He paused. “Rafe’s not real pleased.”

  “Ben, since when is my business your business?” Tara asked sweetly.

  “Since big brother Jack shanghaied me into getting a hernia in his place.” He gave Tara an unrepentant smile. “Hey,” he said as he opened his door, “I hear you hired Hailey Manzo.”

  Let’s see, I hired her yesterday around 4:00 p.m. It’s now 8:30 a.m. and Ben already knows about it…. Yeah, that was about right by Night Sky standards. “Do you know her?”

  “Nice girl. A little wild in high school, but nice. She married a real loser.”

  “Sounds like my mom. The loser part.”

  “Lots of women hook up with losers. Fortunately,” he added with a crooked smile, “Cherese had more sense.”

  “Your wife’s a lucky woman,” Tara agreed, rolling her eyes. “Thanks, Ben.”

  After he’d pulled out of the drive, Tara went back to the house to check in with Matt.

  “Nice guy,” Matt commented as she entered the bedroom where he was working. “I haven’t seen him before. Is he from around here?”

  “Yeah. Ben is Jack’s little brother, but he lives in Elko now. He works at the community college where I used to teach.”

  “Jack and Ben are brothers?”

  Tara smiled. Ben was as lanky as Jack was huge. “Hard to believe, I know. Jack volunteered him.”

  “I’m surprised Rafe wasn’t here.”

  “He had an emergency call.” The floor guys were thumping around below them, hauling in rolls of linoleum. Tara leaned her shoulder against the doorjamb and watched Matt as he maneuvered the oak molding. He made a cut, and then checked the fit before tacking it into place. When he glanced up at her, she was still studying him and she didn’t bother trying to pretend otherwise.

  Their gazes met, and then Matt turned his attention back to the molding as Tara pushed off from the wall and left the room to start her own day’s work. But the snap of electricity still hung in the air.

  JACK HAMISH’S GOAL in life was to come up with a Monday night promotion that would keep the football crowds coming back during the long months after the Super Bowl and before the first Monday Night Football game. He wasn’t having a lot of luck. Even the Monday night tag-team pool tourney had bombed after the first night. People preferred to play on the weekends when they could get happily soused without worrying about getting up for work the next day. But, he confided to Matt, who stopped by the bar to meet Luke, he had high hopes for this one— Monday night treasure hunt. Every round of drinks a team bought came with clues that would lead to a trophy Jack had hidden somewhere nearby. The first team to bring the trophy back to the bar got two rounds of free drinks, as long as they were the cheap ones. It was a sure winner.

  Matt wasn’t so certain.

  “It’s got to be better than the cricket races,” Luke assured him when he arrived. “Or the belly art contest.”

  A pretty good crowd showed up and Matt got to see all of his local favorites before the evening was over. Ryan Somers was there with his fiancée, a small classy-looking blonde with high maintenance written all over her. Ryan stood with his hand pressed possessively to the small of her back, the solicitous husband-to-be. Two-faced jerk. Matt had watched him over his beer as he waited for Luke, and even though Somers was subtle, he was aware of every woman in the place. After a few minutes, Matt decided that he couldn’t exactly blame him. If his fiancée were any cooler, she’d form frost on her.

  Eddie “Sweet Cheeks” Johnson arrived with his band of drugged-out cronies just as Jack finished explaining the rules, so his team was eliminated. No one, including the team, seemed to care. They settled at a table across the room from Matt and Luke, and started dri
nking.

  The waitress sauntered over after the crowd had left on the treasure hunt and Matt ordered a pizza, which Luke agreed to share.

  “Thought you were getting meals,” she said to Matt, as she waited to get a little dirt.

  “New flooring,” Matt said. “The stove is out of commission for a day or two.”

  “Oh.” The word had an edge of disappointment. She closed her order pad and headed for the kitchen.

  Luke waited until she was out of earshot, and then cocked his head at Matt.

  “You know—” he spoke with just enough hesitation to activate Matt’s self-protection radar “—they are kind of shorthanded in the sheriff’s department here. They’re trying for a grant to fund a position.”

  “No.”

  “Just thought I’d throw it out as an option.”

  “I don’t belong here, Luke. The small town thing…it works for you because you were born here. I grew up in Vegas. Reno’s a small town for me.”

  “Just an option I was throwing out,” Luke repeated.

  Matt pulled in a breath. “And I appreciate it. Don’t get me wrong.”

  “Small isn’t that bad,” Luke grumbled. “Regardless of your profession.”

  Matt smiled at the older man, who simply gave him a you-dumb-bastard look over the top of his glass. He was, frankly, touched that Luke wanted him to stay in the community, but he couldn’t imagine policing in a non-urban area, being totally out of his environment. And more than that, he couldn’t imagine leaving unfinished business behind at his present job, especially when it was business that could possibly haunt him for the rest of his career.

  Luke left shortly after dessert, but Matt stayed for one more beer, enjoying the spectacle of the triumphant women from the county courthouse celebrating with their free drinks. Eddie went to the bathroom and then, when he came back out, he strolled over to where Matt sat and hooked his thumbs in his pants, rocking on his heels. He’d had so much to drink, Matt hoped he didn’t fall over backward.

  “You, son,” he said in a nasally voice, obviously meant to be threatening, “are lucky I didn’t press charges that night you hit me. But—” he smiled nastily “—I like to take care of problems on my own.” His tongue had trouble wrapping around the words, but he finally got it all out. “You probably feel safe, since I haven’t done anything, but you know what they say…”

  Matt waited, curious to find out what they say.

  “The best revenge is a c-o-l-d revenge.” Eddie dragged the single syllable of the adjective out for maximum effect.

  “‘Revenge is a dish best served cold,’ you moron,” said Jack directly behind Eddie and, in spite of his slow reflexes, the man jumped. “Now go sit down or get out.”

  Jack apologized to Matt as Eddie went back to his friends. “He’s going to hell in a handbasket. But watch that jerk. He carries a grudge and it only grows.”

  Matt smiled his thanks. “I’ll remember that.”

  HAVING HAILEY AROUND wasn’t bad, Tara decided. She’d stopped by Monday evening to find out what Tara needed help with before the reunion, and also what duties she and Ginny would share while the guests were there. Hailey had to work around her beauty salon schedule, and Ginny had to work around her waitressing, but between the two of them, Tara would have help when she needed it.

  And Hailey, it turned out, did respect boundaries and had a few of her own besides. On the surface she was vivacious and easy to talk to, obviously intelligent and matter-of-fact about her train wreck of a marriage, but Tara soon sensed that Hailey, too, had had her share of kicks in the teeth and that she was not all that anxious to talk about them. And as per Nicky’s instructions, Tara had made an effort to open up, to be friendly and drop the defenses. Fortunately, Hailey made it easy.

  “I know it’s a bed-and-breakfast, but I decided I’d offer a cold dinner buffet on Friday and a luncheon buffet on Saturday. Everything is ordered and just needs to be picked up from Elko. The rest of the meals are covered by reunion events.”

  “And the cocktail party?”

  “That’s where I want to concentrate my efforts. I mean, cocktail parties are definitely not my forte, but the man who booked it is kind of a bigwig. I’d like to impress him and maybe drum up some return business.” Tara opened her notebook. “Here’s the menu,” she said. “Just light finger food, most of it made ahead of time.”

  “Who’s mixing drinks?”

  “A couple of friends,” Tara said. Ben and Rafe. She hadn’t been certain about Rafe, until he’d stopped by that afternoon to apologize for not being available to help with the appliances and to reassure her he’d tend bar. There’d been tension between them, and she could see he had questions, but he wasn’t going to ask them.

  “Well, if you need an extra pair of hands, I’m licensed.”

  “That’s good to know because one of my bartenders is a deputy and if he has an emergency, he’ll have to leave.”

  Hailey tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Which deputy?” she asked in a deceptively mild voice.

  “Rafe—”

  “Sanchez?” Hailey pressed her lips together.

  “You know Rafe?”

  “We’ve had a few encounters,” she said in a tight voice. “He gave me a speeding ticket a couple of days ago that’s going to cost me a week’s salary.”

  “Rafe? Are you sure it wasn’t another—”

  “I’m sure,” Hailey said flatly.

  “That’s weird. Rafe usually gives warnings….”

  An odd expression crossed Hailey’s face, but all she said was, “Not this time.” She shook her head then and made an effort to lighten the mood. “Don’t worry. I can work with him, no problem. I was just surprised at the irony.”

  Me, too. Tara was surprised at more than the irony. She was surprised to hear that softhearted Rafe had handed out an expensive ticket, and to a good-looking blonde, at that. Something more to this story. Definitely something more.

  The phone rang shortly after Hailey left. It was an inquiry from a woman who’d just got her reunion packet and was looking for a place to stay. Did Tara have any rooms left? Fortunately, she did. The last one on the second floor. A few minutes later it was booked and then the phone rang again. Another inquiry. Tara was pleasant and told the woman there was a waiting list and she was first on it, but perhaps she’d like to book elsewhere just in case. Tara would get back to her if there were any changes in the near future.

  And then Tara jogged up the steps to the third floor to see how many changes she could make before the near future arrived.

  She was on the stiflingly hot third floor again the next morning, opening windows, when Matt arrived. She’d spent most of the evening planning, figuring if she had enough linens and furniture, she could make the top of her house not only habitable, but charming—a place people would want to return to. If she couldn’t make it an asset, she would have to turn down the bookings, and the thought of doing that killed her.

  “Can we turn this into two bedrooms before the reunion?” she asked Matt as soon as he topped the stairs.

  “Did we get greedy?” Matt asked, crossing the room to help her with a stubborn sash. Finally he pulled out his knife and dug at the frozen lock until he was able to pry it open.

  She gave him a sidelong glance. “I would like the option of becoming greedy.” She wrinkled her forehead. “Can we do it?”

  “Possibly.” He walked over to the peeling plaster and flicked a hanging chunk to the scarred floor. Tara followed the movement with her eyes.

  “I can’t afford new flooring up here.”

  “I think I would leave this floor alone. It’ll clean up okay and then maybe with some rugs…”

  “Yeah, I was thinking of going with the cottage look, too.”

  He stared at her uncertainly and it dawned on her that she was speaking Greek to him. “It’s a decorating trend. Kind of a beat-up furniture and funky flea-market style with lots of comfy cushions and rugs and color
and…” Her voice trailed off as he raised his eyebrows. “Never mind. It’s the only look I think I can handle on short notice. My question is, could we have walls on the bathrooms and get the fixtures in before people arrive?”

  Matt looked over at the framing in the bathroom area. “I won’t have time to build cabinets or anything.”

  “I have the tub and pedestal sink already. I bought all the fixtures at once to get a discount, so that’s not a problem. I have a small armoire that could double as a linen closet. All I really need are walls.”

  Matt looked around again, and then he glanced down at Tara. “Walls, eh?”

  Her mouth turned up at the corners as she saw the answer to her question in his eyes. He didn’t have a lot of time, but he would try to do this for her. “Yes. Walls.”

  “I could do walls,” he said in a low voice.

  Tara felt the ever-present tingle of awareness grow stronger. “You could, huh?” she answered, her voice a little unsteady, very throaty.

  The words hung in the air and something about the way Matt was looking at her made Tara catch her breath.

  “Hello…” Hailey’s voice rang through the house and the moment, the mood, was shattered.

  “Up here.”

  A few seconds later, Hailey joined them on the third floor. She gave a quick look around. “This floor is a little more challenging than the other, I’d say.” She returned her attention to Tara. “Sorry to barge in, but I’m on my way to Elko and Grandma asked me to stop and see if you wanted me to take your dress to the cleaners there. I guess they have some special process that protects older gowns, although I’d say yours probably isn’t that old.”

  “Come on,” Tara said, leading the way to the stairs and stifling an almost overwhelming sense of disappointment. “I’ll get it for you.”

  THE TWO WOMEN went downstairs, leaving Matt to wonder just what would have happened if Hailey had not interrupted them.