Nickeled-And-Dimed to Death (3 page)

Just as I located my elusive cell hiding at the very bottom of my purse, the phone in the kitchen started ringing.

Expecting it to be Jake, I hurried into the next room and grabbed the handset on the second ring. “Hello.”

“Why aren’t you answering your cell?” The irritated voice of Boone St. Onge buzzed in my ear.

Before I could respond, Gran walked into the kitchen, an inquiring look on her face. I mouthed Boone’s name, and she retreated to the living room to resume her vigil at the picture window.

“Did you forget to charge it again?” Boone demanded. He, along with Poppy Kincaid, were my two best friends. All three of us grew up together. The only time any of us lived anywhere outside of Shadow Bend was during college, and, in Boone’s case, law school.

I checked the small screen of the tiny device I was still clutching and saw that I had accidently muted the ringer. “The battery’s fine. I just didn’t hear it.” Flipping through the missed messages, which were mostly from Boone, I asked, “What’s up?”

“Not much right now. Later I’ve got that thing I told you about.” Boone had mentioned that he and a friend were going to an art gallery opening in Kansas City, but those events usually started pretty late.

“What time are you leaving?” I knew it took a good hour to get into the city even without commuter traffic.

“Ten.” Boone crunched something in my ear, then explained, “We’re going to grab a bite to eat, then go to the gallery. The artist claims to be a vampire, so he only shows his work from midnight until dawn.”

“How . . .” I searched for the right word. “Inconvenient for his mortal patrons.”

“Hey, at least it’s something new to do. Lately, I’ve been so bored I could scream.” Boone chomped again; I was pretty sure he was eating an apple. “How about you? Are you doing anything interesting?”

“Just sitting here with Gran,” I answered truthfully. I hadn’t mentioned to either Poppy or Boone that Jake and I had a big date. Both of them were already way too interested in my relationship with him.

“You need to get a life.” Boone sighed, then added in an discontented tone, “We both do.”

“Hey, I tried once, but they were out of stock.”

Boone ignored my feeble attempt at humor and said, “On a more positive note, at least you have time to talk to me.” I could hear him settling in for a good gossip.

“Uh—”

Boone didn’t wait for my answer. “You’ll never guess who I saw at Brewfully Yours today.” He paused dramatically. “Or what she had on.”

As I listened to Boone’s description of his encounter at the local coffee shop with Gwen—a woman we both disliked—I continued to scroll through my voice mail. The very last one in the queue was from Jake. I covered the other phone’s receiver and pressed the button to listen to the message.

“Devereaux”—Jake’s sexy, deep voice swept over me—“I’m sorry to cancel our date at the last minute, but I just got a call. I’ve been cleared for duty and they have a case they want me on ASAP.” He paused, then added, “I’m heading to St. Louis as soon as I hang up. I’ll call you when I get a chance, but it may be a while.”

For a second I sagged against the kitchen counter. Jake had been injured in the line of duty more than a year and a half ago. He’d been working on his granduncle’s ranch while waiting to hear if he’d healed enough to resume working as a deputy U.S. Marshal—an outcome he desperately wanted and that I had mixed feelings about.

While I was glad that Jake’s leg was better and he could get back to the job he loved, it meant he’d be living in St. Louis—more than four hours from Shadow Bend. It also meant that he’d be in contact with his ex-wife, Meg, every day, since she was his supervisor. Heck, for all I knew, they’d be spending nights together, too. None of those circumstances held much promise for the future of our relationship.

Finally I straightened, took a deep breath, and forced myself to continue the conversation with Boone, who was saying, “And she was wearing the most hideous gold dress with purple tights and bright aqua stilettoes.”

Thank goodness Boone was on a roll and didn’t require much more than the occasional, “Oh, my . . . ,” “What was she thinking?” and “I can’t imagine,” because my mind was fully occupied with Jake’s news.

Twenty minutes went by and Boone was winding down when the call-waiting tone started bleeping in my ear. Crossing my fingers that it was Jake phoning to say he’d changed his mind, decided to resign from the Marshals, and was staying in Shadow Bend, I said good-bye to Boone and picked up the other call.

“Dev?” A too-familiar voice socked me in the gut. “It’s Noah.”

I really wished I had looked at the caller ID. Because if I’d known it was my old high school boyfriend, Noah Underwood, I would have ignored the call.

CHAPTER 3

N
oah Underwood and I had known each other since birth. Actually, we might have met while still in our mothers’ respective wombs. Both women were pregnant at the same time, and they were often together at community events. In fact, considering both women’s love of attention, they had probably stood side by side, vying for the limelight.

The Underwoods and the Sinclairs were two of the five founding families of Shadow Bend, which made socializing with one another inevitable. Consequently, when Noah and I hit adolescence, it had seemed natural for us to become sweethearts. And once we started dating, we were inseparable. It hadn’t taken long for Noah to become the most important person in my life, and I had thought I was the most important one in his. Regrettably, I had been wrong. Very, very wrong.

Thirteen years ago, before everything changed, the Sinclairs and the Underwoods were social equals. Both families were respected and well regarded. But when my father went to prison, the Sinclairs became the town pariahs, while the Underwoods continued to grow more revered with every year that passed.

Few people blamed Noah for ending our relationship. After all, he was the golden boy, and my family’s reputation was tarnished beyond redemption. The fact that he had vowed to love me for all eternity, then bolted when my father was found guilty, made sense to them. Gran, Boone, and I were the only ones who hated him for walking out on me during the worst period of my life. Even my other best friend, Poppy, had a soft spot for my ex-boyfriend.

Recently, Noah had tried to convince me that I had incorrectly interpreted his actions at the time. He claimed he’d had a good reason for breaking off with me, and that he’d even tried to come back. But I still wasn’t sure I believed him, and if I did believe him, I wasn’t certain it mattered to me anymore.

True, until I met Jake, I had never felt the same passion toward any other man that I had felt for Noah. But how did I know those feelings weren’t just a teenage crush? And did I really want to risk being hurt again in order to find out?

Which is exactly why I had been ducking Noah for the past several weeks. I liked to deal with most problems head-on, but my love life was another matter entirely.

“Dev?” Noah asked after a lengthy silence on my part. “Are you there?”

“Hi, Noah.” I guess I still could have hung up, but I felt guilty for avoiding him this past month. We had supposedly cleared the air between us when I helped him find out who had murdered his fiancée, and I knew he was probably confused by my behavior.

“Oh. Hi. I thought maybe I had gotten your answering machine again.”

“Nope.” I pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and sat down. “It’s me.”

“That’s great.” There was a hint of happy surprise in Noah’s silky tenor. “I was afraid you’d be out. I never seem to catch you at home.”

“Yeah.” I concentrated on keeping my breathing even and sounding as casual as possible. “I’m pretty busy between the store and Birdie, and—” I broke off. I had almost said
seeing Jake
.

“I know what you mean. I really wish I could talk another doctor or two into joining my practice.” Noah’s tone was rueful. “But for some reason that I can’t figure out, no one else seems to want to put in twelve-hour days and accept payment in livestock.”

“Who paid you in chickens this time?” I asked, having heard through the grapevine about the hens that had gotten loose at his clinic. “Or do you have a cow grazing in your waiting room now?” It was common knowledge that Noah was too kindhearted to turn away patients in need, despite their inability to pay by cash, check, or credit card.

Farm families strapped for money had taken to using the barter system around town. Just the other day, I’d been offered a couple of rabbits and half a dozen chicks in exchange for quilting fabric. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to have the animals for dinner or put them in Easter baskets, but neither alternative worked for me, and the woman and I had come to an alternative arrangement.

“The Browns,” Noah answered, laughing, “but it was a piglet, so no harm, no
fowl
this time.”

I snickered at his bad pun. “What in the world did you do with a pig?” I had forgotten how much I enjoyed Noah’s dry sense of humor.

“I gave it to the women and children’s shelter,” Noah answered. “The kids are raising the piglet and the chickens, and they’ll enter them in the county fair this spring. Then the animals will be processed to provide food for the shelter.”

“That was really nice of you.” My heart melted a little. “But how do you keep your clinic in the black when you do stuff like that?”

For years, I had tried to convince myself that Noah couldn’t possibly be the wonderful man the townspeople all proclaimed he was. I had been sure that everyone was blinded to his true self by his profession, his good looks, and his family’s position in Shadow Bend. However, since we had finally discussed the past and I’d heard his side of what had happened in high school, it was harder and harder for me to ignore what a good person he was.

“You know I’ll never starve.” I could hear the shrug in his voice. “A lot of people aren’t as fortunate.”

“Of course.” How could I forget about his wealth, even for a minute?

We were silent for a couple of seconds, then Noah said, “Hey, I didn’t call to discuss my cash flow.”

“Oh?” I’d relaxed, but now I felt myself becoming anxious again.

“Yeah.” Noah cleared his throat. “The thing is, I need a favor.”

“Oh?” I repeated myself, tension thrumming through my shoulders.

“I have to attend this dance at the country club tonight.” When I didn’t respond, Noah hurried to explain. “It’s a fund-raiser for the shelter, and I was on the committee. It would seem strange if I didn’t show up.”

“Sure.”

“My cousin was going to go with me, but she bailed out at the last minute.” He took a deep breath, then said in a rush, “So I was kind of hoping that you’d be free and could go with me.”

“Why can’t you go alone?” The last thing I needed was to appear at a dance with Noah. His mother was sure that I was the spawn of Satan—or at least a criminal—and my grandmother thought Noah was a coward for breaking up with me when my dad was convicted. Being seen in public with him would create a mess I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with.

“Since Joelle was killed and I’m unattached again, it’s been a little awkward at social gatherings because . . .” He trailed off.

“Because now you’re fair game and all the single women in town are after you again.” I finished what he’d been too modest to say.

“Uh.” Noah paused, then said, “Anyway, if you were with me that would solve a lot of problems.”

“For you, maybe.” I shook my head for emphasis even if he couldn’t see it. “But think of the gossip, not to mention your mother’s reaction.”

“Not to mention your grandmother’s, you mean,” he chided me good-naturedly.

He had a point. Gran had spent her whole life in a small town that took family feuds seriously. So despite the fact that Noah’s betrayal had occurred more than a decade ago, any mention of his name made Gran bristle like a porcupine. And I certainly didn’t want to get in her way when she released her sharp spines at what she perceived as a threat.

When I didn’t respond, he added, “And I don’t care if Mom is unhappy. I’ve been living my own life for quite a while and there are a lot of things I do that she doesn’t approve of. She certainly didn’t like Joelle.”

“Hmm.” That was true, but what he didn’t know was that his mother, Nadine, had told me that she had been confident he would never marry Joelle. And, as it turned out, she’d been right—just for the wrong reason.

“Actually, as well as helping me out, this could be good for you, too.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“My college roommate will be at the dance and he’s the owner of a huge Kansas City real estate firm. He’s looking for a new company to make the gift baskets they give the people who buy one of their properties. Their current supplier’s product has become too repetitive.” Noah dangled the bait in front of me. “I mentioned how unique all your baskets are, and he was definitely interested.”

My heart raced at the thought of making such a potentially lucrative connection. “How many baskets are we talking about?” I had put all the money I had into the dime store and needed the shop to succeed—for Birdie’s sake as much as my own.

“Twenty or so a week,” Noah enticed me. “More once real estate sales pick up again.”

“Well . . .” Between Birdie’s medical costs and the store’s mortgage, I could definitely use that kind of cash. I made an enormous profit on the gift baskets, since I was selling my creativity more than the actual contents. “Gran would really be upset about our being together.”

“Tell her you’re using me,” Noah cajoled.

“Let me think about it for a minute.” I covered the mouthpiece of the receiver and played Jake’s message one more time. Then I looked at my reflection in the glass-front cabinets and said into the phone, “It seems my Saturday night has just opened up. When are you picking me up?”

CHAPTER 4

N
oah tossed the phone onto its base and pumped his fist in the air.
Yes!
He had a date with Dev. After several weeks of her failing to return his phone calls, mysteriously disappearing whenever he went into the dime store, and ignoring messages he left, she had finally said yes. Now he just had to figure out how to make her trust him again.