Harlequin Heartwarming May 2016 Box Set (86 page)

If the mayor was aware of this, he wasn't letting on. “I also take great pleasure...great pleasure,” he repeated, puffing up his chest, “in extending a warm Riverton welcome to our new chief of police, former Chicago PD Detective Jack Evans.”

Former detective. This meant that not only had Jack been offered the position and accepted it, he had already resigned. The pieces were gradually falling into place. The chief of police appointment had been in the works for several weeks, at least since the last council meeting, and Jack hadn't breathed a word about it to her. She might have been miffed if it weren't for her sheer sense of giddiness over the sacrifice he was obviously making for her and the baby.

Somehow her fingers found the keyboard, and she transcribed what the men were saying, almost word for word, though none of it quite registered, not even as the words scrolled across the monitor in front of her.

After the mayor wrapped up the meeting, Emily was much more composed. It was photo time. She picked up her camera, glad she'd checked the light and exposures before being slammed with the unexpected news that Jack Evans was Riverton's new chief of police.

The three men posed in front of the flags that stood behind the podium. For each photo, Jack's smile softened his features and took the edge off the laser-sharp stare he'd been giving her since he had walked into the room. Click, click, click.

The former chief stepped aside so she could take a formal shot of Jack sharing a hearty handshake with the mayor. Click.

The mayor decided she should also take one of Jack by himself—which felt ridiculously awkward, as though he was looking right through the camera and into her soul. Finally, she snapped a few shots of Jack with his parents.

Click, click, click.

“Riverton will be the safest town in Wisconsin, and if anyone can solve the mystery of the missing garden gnomes, my son can,” Norma Evans said to Emily. “Just you wait and see.”

Jack gave Emily a look that asked her to tread cautiously, but Emily simply nodded and gave his mother a weak smile. After the photo shoot, everyone mingled, gravitating to the refreshment table set up at the back of the room. Emily hastily scrolled through the images she had captured and, satisfied she had what she needed, packed up her camera and laptop with trembling hands and slung the bag over her shoulder. More than anything she wanted to talk to Jack tell him how grateful she was—now that she was over the shock—that he would make this kind of committment for their child. But not here, not now. She walked quickly toward the door, head down so no one would see the tears of relief in her eyes. Luckily, as far as everyone else knew, she was merely the reporter, and no one expected her to stay.

* * *

J
ACK
MOVED
THROUGH
the room, shaking hands, accepting congratulations and making small talk while keeping Emily in his field of view. She was in a hurry to leave, judging by the way she was cramming things into her bag. He wished he could have told her about this ahead of time, but a combination of factors had prevented that.

He'd had to make this decision on his own, although talking to his friend, Paul, and his bureau chief had helped. Especially after he'd told them about the Emily and the baby. He already knew he was gaining much more than he was giving up.

To complicate things even further, the mayor, in his typical fashion, had wanted to make a big splash by keeping this top secret. If he had told Emily, he had a niggling suspicion she might let it slip to Fred, and then it would have spread through town like wildfire. That was not how he wanted to start his tenure as Riverton's new police chief. Now Emily was leaving, and all he wanted was to rush out the door after her.

“Jack, I'm sure you know Reverend Frank Hammond and his wife, Alice,” the mayor said. “Frank's been the minister at Grace Memorial for what, thirty years?”

“Thirty-two.” The reverend had a hearty handshake. “Welcome back to Riverton, son. Good to know we'll have one of our own looking out for us.” The reverend had officiated at Eric's funeral.

“It's good to be home.”

Mrs. Hammond beamed at him. “The church is hosting the Hospital Auxiliary's bazaar and rummage sale next Saturday,” she said. “We'd love to have you officially open the event for us.”

“I would be honored. I'll check my schedule and let you know.” He did his best to be attentive while he watched Emily hoist her bag off the table and haul it onto her shoulder. She exchanged a few words with the reporter who'd sat next to her at the press table, then briskly walked toward the exit without so much as a backward glance.

“Very nice to see you both,” Jack said. “Could you excuse me? There's someone I need to have a few words with.”

He tried to make a beeline for the door but instead ended up dodging several more well-wishers, including his mother.

“We're so proud of you.” Norma Evans was literally beaming, and her pleasure made his heart swell.

“Thanks, Mom. Look, I need to—”

“About dinner tonight. I thought we would—”

“Can I call you?” He kissed her cheek. “There's someone I need to speak to.”

“We usually eat at six,” she reminded him.

He acknowledged the time with a wave before he shoved through the exit door.

Usually?
His mother had been serving dinner at six o'clock sharp since forever. He would have to stay with them until he found a place of his own or, better yet, a place with Emily. Which would have to be soon because checking in with his mother at mealtimes, letting her know if he had to work late... Yeah, that would get old real fast.

He stepped outside in time to see Emily pull out of the lot. He jumped in his Jeep and set off after her. She was headed in the direction of the
Gazette
, or possibly her apartment. Or was she planning to stop at the barbershop? He shoved back a tickle of annoyance that she would go to Fred to talk about this before she said anything to him. They were just friends, he reminded himself.

She parked in front of the newspaper office, and he pulled in beside her. She climbed out of her car, cell phone in hand and looked surprised to see him. She smiled, though, and in that instant, he knew everything was going to work out.

“Emily.”

She waved her phone at him. “I was just about to text you, ask you to meet me here when all the excitement died down.”

He stopped beside her on the sidewalk. “I thought maybe you were angry.”

She furrowed her forehead. “Why would I be angry? I was surprised, shocked. I didn't understand why you didn't tell me, but now that I'm getting used to the idea...I'm happy.”

“You are?”

She beamed at him like the cat that stole the cream. “I would never be happy in a place like Chicago, but I'll always be happy here.”

He took her keys and opened the door to her apartment.

Inside, she let her bag slip to the floor, flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Congratulations, Chief Evans.”

And with her sweet, full lips on his, he knew he'd made the right decision.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“I
STILL
CAN
'
T
BELIEVE
you did this,” Emily said, clinging to the lapels of his leather jacket, breathless from an impulsive kiss that had rapidly turned into several more very deliberate ones.

“It was the right thing to do,” Jack said, one hand still on her back, the other gently brushing her hair from her face. “For me, for the baby, for us.”

For us. She could stand here in his arms forever, but she had work to do. “We held up production of this week's paper so this story could be on the front page.”

“How long will that take?”

“A few hours.”

His face fell. “My mother wants me home for a celebratory dinner. I thought you could join us.”

No way. “It's too soon for that.”

“I guess you're right. Maybe I could stay here and watch you write?”

She loved he could make her laugh this way. “Not a chance. Go, enjoy your evening with your family. I'll let you know when I'm finished.”

He kissed her again, lightly. “Maybe we can get together for dessert.”

She opened the door and playfully pushed him outside. “Go, before I change my mind.”

Upstairs, she set her laptop on her desk, took out her camera and downloaded the photographs she'd shot at the press conference. She'd use one of the formal poses for her article in the
Gazette
. The one with Jack flanked by the mayor and the former police chief, she decided. She'd managed to get them positioned with the flags centered behind them, the Stars and Stripes and the blue state flag. The paper didn't often run color, but Ken had already said he would make an exception for the front page of this edition. No surprise, she had thought at the time, given he would be in the photograph.

When the article was finished to her satisfaction, she logged in to her blog. As soon as the paper came out on Wednesday, she knew people would be checking her blog for a story about the new police chief, and she wanted this one to be more personal. She would write it now, while she was on a roll, and schedule it to go live as soon as Wednesday's paper hit the stands.

No need for formality here, she decided. She scrolled through the photographs and stopped at a candid shot she had taken of Jack with his mother. The top of Norma's head barely reached her son's shoulder. She had stretched up to smooth his hair and ended up with her hands on his cheeks, her smile wide and her eyes lit with maternal pride. Emily opened the photograph in her editing program, cropped some of the distracting details from the edges and adjusted the color tones to counteract the effects of the council chamber's harsh fluorescent lighting. Satisfied with the results, she saved the photograph to a folder on her desktop and opened a new blog post.

This entry would not be about Jack, she decided. For the title, she typed, A Mother's Pride.

Dear Hearts,

It's not every day that a mother has the honor of witnessing the community celebrate her son's career achievement. For Norma Evans, Monday was one of those days. At an afternoon press conference, Mayor Bartlett announced that her son, Jack, who has spent the past decade with the Chicago Police Department, will be Riverton's new chief of police.

Emily inserted the photograph and considered what else she should write. This was about Jack's mother, after all. She ran a hand over her belly. A soon-to-be grandmother. She quickly placed her hands back on the keyboard.

Norma's community spirit is well known to Rivertonians. Every year, she directs the Christmas pageant at Grace Memorial Church, and she recently headed up a successful campaign to raise funds for new playground equipment at Riverside Park.

Emily opened a folder on her hard drive, found a photograph of the newly constructed playground, and inserted it into her blog post. She had snapped the photo after the ribbon-cutting ceremony, capturing two colorfully dressed children testing the equipment. A little girl in jeans and a red jacket emerging from a bright blue tunnel slide, pigtails flying. A boy in a green hoodie swinging monkey-style from the overhead bars. The faces of both children were angled away from the camera, eliminating the need for her to ask their parents to sign a release form.

When asked what she hopes the future will hold for Riverton and its new homegrown police chief, Norma says, “Riverton will be the safest town in Wisconsin, and if anyone can solve the mystery of the missing garden gnomes, my son can.”

There you have it, Dear Hearts. And speaking of the garden gnome mystery, be sure to check back tomorrow to see if there are any new developments.

Love, Emily

She quickly read over what she'd written and set her post to go live on Wednesday.

* * *

O
N
M
ONDAY
MORNING
, Jack stood behind his desk and surveyed his new office. The space was now devoid of the decades-worth of memorabilia his predecessor had accumulated. All that remained were the massive desk with its large leather chair, a pair of guest chairs, and a gray steel filing cabinet. Inside the cabinet, various folders and reports had been filed in a system that apparently only the former chief had understood. Karla Caldwell, the department's office administrator, had already offered to refile everything in a more logical way, and Jack had gratefully accepted her help.

Right now there were only three items on his desk. One was a gift from his parents—a gold pen in an oak holder, engraved with his name and his new rank on a brass plate. The second was a framed photograph of him and Emily on horseback the day of the picnic. CJ had snapped it as the two of them had ridden away, their backs to the camera. In the card she had attached to the package, she'd written, “Here's to the future and to riding off into the sunset. Together. Your future sister-in-law, CJ.” The card was tucked safely in his top desk drawer, away from prying eyes.

Emily still hadn't agreed to provide him with any sisters-in-law, but she was close to changing her mind. He sensed it in the way she looked at him, in the way she would sometimes unconsciously reach out and touch his arm to get his attention. And this morning, after he had stopped by her place with take-out coffee, which they drank while sharing a couple of slices of his mother's banana bread, still warm from the oven, she hadn't just wished him good luck on his first day here.

Emily had given him a horseshoe, then had draped her arms around his neck and kissed him in a way that made him feel like the luckiest man alive. She had explained that he needed to hang it with the pointy parts up, but when he arrived at the office this morning, he figured it made a better paperweight. It now rested on a low stack of files next to his desk blotter. He liked having it within arm's reach.

Now that he was an official resident of Riverton, he needed to follow Paul's advice. He'd already done the compromise. Next was the proposal, and he was working on that. For now, all he knew was that it would take place in the gazebo. He was still working on the romantic part, but he needed to move quickly. Last night, on his way home from Emily's place, he had spotted Rose Daniels's car parked in front of the Riverton Bar & Grill. He'd gone in and spotted her alone in a booth with a half-eaten burger and a fresh pint of beer. She hadn't seen him come in, so he'd sat at the counter, ordered coffee and watched her in the mirrored backsplash behind the bar. In the time it took him to down a cup of coffee, she had polished off the pint and ordered another.

Back outside in his Jeep, he had called Brett Watters, his former colleague in Chicago. Sure enough, after Rose had returned to Chicago, she had checked in to say she had landed a job as a waitress in Riverton and was moving there for good.

From where Jack had sat out front, he'd seen her drain her glass and signal she'd like another. Looked as though she was about to become the restaurant's best new customer.

But the real bombshell had been Brett's report on the latest bit of information that had come in from vital statistics—Scarlett Daniels's birth certificate and Thomas Finnegan's marriage license. The name on both documents was Scarlett Franklin. Somehow Rose had found out about her long-lost stepfamily in Wisconsin and had come here to... Well, he had yet to figure out her motive. Right now, Emily was his only concern. She would be devastated to learn the truth about her mother—who wouldn't?—and he had no idea how to tell her. What he knew for sure was the ring in his pocket needed to be on her finger when he did.

There was a light tap on his office door, then it opened, and Karla appeared. “Everyone's waiting for you in the staff lounge. Coffee's ready, too.”

“That's great. Tell them I'll be right there. Oh, and here.” He picked up the extra-large Tupperware container from the top of the filing cabinet and handed it to her. “A friend of mine sent this for everyone.” He had almost said my future sister-in-law, which is how he thought of Annie. She had presented him with the container after dinner last night. He'd become a permanent fixture at the Finnegan family's Sunday night dinner. He wondered if Emily's father questioned why that was, but Emily assured him her father accepted their explanation that, as Eric's best friend, he was there to provide moral support for Annie and her son.

“This friend of mine is some sort of pastry genius,” he said.

Karla lifted a corner of the lid and peeked inside. “Is this Annie Finnegan's apple strudel?”

“It is.”

“Oh, my,” she said reverently. “If there's a direct line between her kitchen and your office, well, what can I say? Welcome to Riverton, sir.”

Sir?
“It's Jack. No need for formality.”

“I'll let them know you're on your way. No rush, though. This will keep them happy,” she said with a grin, scurrying off to the lounge, clutching the container in both hands.

Jack snagged his jacket off the back of his chair, slid his arms into the sleeves, straightened his tie. His mother had fussed over his newly issued uniform, pressing it until the shirt was wrinkle free and the creases in the pant legs could cut butter. Emily had never seen him in uniform and had seemed pleasantly surprised, although she hinted she preferred slightly the scruffy undercover Jack to spit-and-polish Chief of Police Jack. For everyday attire, he hoped to find his comfort zone someplace between the two, but for today, his first day on the job, he wanted to get off on the right foot.

And good first impressions started with punctuality, he reminded himself, as he left his office and made his way around Karla's desk, down the corridor, past the interview room where he had not long ago questioned Rose Daniels, and into the staff room.

The men and women assembled there moved to get up from their seats as he walked into the lounge, but he waved them down. Karla jumped up to pour him a cup of coffee, and he stilled her with the same motion. “Thanks, but I'll get my own.”

He poured himself a cup and faced the group around the table, noting that several had already helped themselves to Annie's strudel.

“I want to thank each of you for making the effort to be here this morning,” he said, glancing around at the members of the department who had all gathered to meet with him on his first day on the job. “I appreciate it, especially those of you who came in on your day off.”

“No problem, Chief.”

“Thanks.” He acknowledged the title with a smile and a nod. “One thing, though. I'd like to keep the ‘sirs' and the ‘chiefs' to a minimum.”

“Fenwick said he'd be back to give a serious whooping to anyone who gives you any grief,” a young patrol officer said, grinning.

“Besides, we figure it never hurts to earn a few brownie points,” another quipped.

“Noted,” Jack said, laughing as he assessed the members of the Riverton Police Department. The department was made up of a lieutenant, seven patrol officers—five men and two women—and their full-time administrator, Karla. One of the officers was running a bicycle safety session at the elementary school that morning, and another was on regular patrol duty. The rest were here.

This was his first day on the job, and this was his team. He had known several of these men and women for most of his life, some of the others he had only just met. Their collective experience, commitment and dedication inspired him and filled him with doubt. They would be looking to him for leadership and direction. Could he deliver? Mayor Bartlett, former Chief Fenwick and his family certainly had faith in him. But it had been Emily's spontaneous kisses on the afternoon of the mayor's announcement that had made a believer out of him. Time would tell whether or not he was ready for this new challenge, but she had convinced him he had done the right thing. And once she agreed to marry him, he would need to find a way to share what he had discovered about her mother.

He smiled at his staff. “I know you all have more important things to do than listen to speeches, so I intend to keep this short,” he told them. “I just want to say that I'd like you to consider me part of this team. My door will always be open if anyone of you ever needs anything, although I don't plan on spending a lot of time keeping the chair in my office warm. I'll be taking my turn on the front desk from time to time, and taking a few shifts on patrol, too.”

That garnered a round of silence tinged with disbelief.

“I know that wasn't Chief Fenwick's style,” he continued. “I also know I have a big pair of shoes to fill, but I have my own way of doing things. Some of you might have heard the rumor I was looking for a change when I left Chicago and took this position,” he said. “Well, that wasn't a rumor, it's the truth, but I don't want a free ride. Police work is my life, and I'm not planning to give it up.”

He could feel the men and women in the room settle in, loosen up. “I would like to ask a couple of favors. I'm sure you've all heard the buzz about the alleged garden-gnome thief who's been terrorizing our town.”