The Accidental Sheriff (8 page)

Read The Accidental Sheriff Online

Authors: Cathy McDavid

“Yes. There are two aspects to every operation, brains and
money. The money may not be local but the brains are. How else would they know where to dig?”

“Which is even more reason for me to do the story. We have criminals operating and residing among us.”

Rather than dissuade her, his argument had fired her up.

“Wrong. If these people know the area, it stands to reason they know you and your family. You’re not the only one who could be in jeopardy. What if something were to happen to Briana or one of your other nieces?”

His remark appeared to take at least some of the wind from her sails. “What if I promise to be careful?” she asked.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Fine.” She wiped her hands on a paper napkin and tossed it aside. “I’ll just find another connection in the department—or the Payson Police or the Arizona Geological Society.”

“Don’t be so stubborn.”

“Don’t be so controlling.”

“I’m trying to protect you.”

“Right. Because you care about me. Which, let’s face it, is irrelevant because you refuse to get involved with me.”

“If I did get involved with you, would you turn down the story?” He knew he’d messed up the instant the words left his mouth.

She drew herself up. “Thank you very much, but I don’t need to negotiate for a man in my life.”

“Sorry.” How often was he going to apologize to her? “That came out wrong.”

“I’m leaving now.” She lifted a leg over the picnic table bench. “Don’t worry, I can catch a ride back to the ranch.”

“I’ll drive you home.” Neil also untangled himself from the table, with much less grace than Carolina, and went on the hunt for Zoey. When he found her with some of the boys at the air hockey table, he called her name. She didn’t look happy at having to leave her friends.

Swell. Now both his dinner companions were angry at him.

He helped Carolina on with her coat, then Zoey. Neither of them appreciated his efforts.

“Do we have to go?” Zoey complained.

“It’s a school night.”

“My fault, sweetie.” Carolina took hold of Zoey’s hand. “I have an early curfew. But I promise to make it up to you.”

“How?”

Carolina scrunched her mouth to one side, deliberating. “We could go for ice cream after we finish dog shopping.”

“Dog shopping?” Zoey giggled.

They walked ahead of Neil toward the exit, intentionally or unintentionally excluding him.

Frankly, he didn’t know how he felt. Part of him was pleased to see his daughter bonding with Carolina. Zoey needed a strong female role model in her life. The other part of him resented the intrusion. He was used to having his daughter to himself. That she should so easily respond to someone other than him left him mildly jealous and, he was reluctant to admit, a tad insecure.

Reality hit him square in the heart.

Like it or not, whatever safeguards he took, his daughter was going to meet and develop meaningful relationships with people outside their small family, including some future young man. Neil could accept that, as long as Zoey loved him and included him in her life. And waited. Fifteen, twenty years ought to do it.

What about him? Was he willing to wait fifteen or twenty years until Zoey was grown and out of the house to have a serious relationship?

Carolina was too vibrant and attractive, not to mention impatient, to hang on for that long on the off chance he’d wise up. Especially when he offered little in return.

Lately, he’d found himself wondering how Lynne would have felt about the prospect of another woman filling her shoes. They’d only discussed how she and Zoey would continue on if anything happened to Neil, a much more likely possibility considering their jobs. Knowing the depths of her love for him and Zoey, he guessed she’d want them to cherish her memory and their years together, but to find someone else who made them happy.

None of that, however, lessened the guilt he suffered over her death or the fear that history would repeat itself with someone else.

With Carolina.

An older couple and two youngsters who looked like grandchildren entered the restaurant at the same time Neil was exiting. He recalled the couple from a vandalism he’d responded to the previous month at their house.

“How are you?” He nodded pleasantly.

They gave him an odd look and a murmured, “Hello.”

Neil thought it was a bit strange, but people’s reaction to law enforcement officials was often reserved and uncomfortable, even when they had no reason to be nervous.

Carolina and Zoey were already outside, and he quickened his pace in order to catch up with them. Turned out there was no need. They were waiting for him by the newspaper box, chatting up a storm.

In the next instant, that changed. Carolina grabbed Zoey’s arm and yanked her away, saying in a falsely bright voice something about finding the car.

Neil’s instinct kicked in, and he closed the distance between them in a hurry. “What’s wrong?”

Carolina’s cheeks had lost all their color.
I’m sorry,
she mouthed, and her eyes darted to the newspaper dispenser.

A stack of the evening edition faced out.

Neil read the headline. A sensation akin to being kicked in the stomach almost brought him to his knees—Acting Sheriff Lovitt Investigated In Late Wife’s Death.

Chapter Eight

“Neil!” Sheriff Herberger boomed, ushering Neil inside. “Good to see you.”

“Hi, Otis. Hope I’m not bothering you. When I called earlier, your wife said you wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Are you kidding? A week at home and I’m already going nuts. Driving Patty nuts, too,” he said, referring to his wife. “It’s going to be a long leave of absence for both of us.”

Neil removed his hat, hung it on a nearby coatrack and followed the sheriff into a cozy front room. Despite the older man’s obvious good spirits, his step lacked its usual spring, evidence that the recent heart surgery had taken a toll on him.

“Can I get you a cup of coffee or cold drink?”

“Coffee’s fine.” Neil took a seat in the chair facing the window. The entranceway to the living room was on his left. Old cop habits died hard, he thought as he sank into the soft cushions. The chair’s location allowed him to see the room from all angles as well as the street outside.

“Cream and sugar, right?” Otis asked.

“If you have it.”

“I’ll warn you, the coffee’s decaf. Patty won’t let me drink anything else.”

“Decaf’s fine.”

Neil would have appreciated the extra kick to his system.
He’d spent half the night tossing and turning or pacing the floor, trying to get that damned newspaper headline out of his mind. The second he’d seen it, he’d been hurled back in time four years ago to a similar headline in another newspaper. That one had nearly destroyed what little had been left of his life.

“Sit tight, I’ll be right back,” Otis said, leaving Neil alone.

The decision to visit the sheriff had come to him about two in the morning during one of his numerous trips to the kitchen. It would probably be an exercise in futility, but he wasn’t one to sit around doing nothing. He needed to find out who had leaked the story about Lynne to the newspaper and why. The sheriff might be able to help. If nothing else, he was someone Neil could confide in without having to hold back or watch what he said. That alone would be a relief.

While he waited for Otis, he removed his jacket and studied the room. It was packed with enough antiques, old photographs and personal memorabilia for three houses. This wasn’t Neil’s first visit to the Herberger home since moving to Payson. On those occasions, Otis had recounted the house’s long and colorful history as one of the oldest residential dwellings in town.

The house had belonged to his wife Patty’s family. Her great-grandfather, a renowned bootlegger and swindler, had settled in the area—some claimed escaped there—from Iowa during the 1910s when prohibition was in effect. The family’s lawlessness had ended with him. Future generations went on to become some of the town’s most upstanding citizens.

“Here you go.” The sheriff returned, bearing two mugs of steaming coffee.

Neil stood, realizing he should have offered to carry the coffee himself. The older man’s face was flushed from the mild exertion.

“I’m assuming this isn’t a social call,” he remarked once they were both seated. “What’s on your mind?”

Neil cut to the chase. “Did you happen to see last evening’s paper?”

“No. I usually try to read it after dinner but the doctor has me taking a short walk instead, and once I get home from that, I can’t stay awake if my life depended on it.”

“Here.” Neil reached inside the jacket lying across his lap and removed a folded section of the paper. Leaning forward, he passed it to Otis.

Removing a pair of reading glasses from his shirt pocket, the older man snapped open the newspaper. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, then proceeded to read in earnest. When he was done, he handed the paper back to Neil, his features reflecting his disgust.

“You didn’t know they were going to run this?”

“Hell, no!”

“Sorry if I offended you,” Neil said. “You’re well connected in town. I thought someone might have mentioned it to you.”

“I’ve been existing in a cocoon since the surgery. I think folks are afraid of upsetting me and giving me another heart attack.”

“I probably shouldn’t have come by.”

“No, no. I’m glad you did. I’m not an invalid.” He shook his head. “But back to this,” he said dismally. “Finding out about you isn’t hard. Anyone with access to a computer and the Internet could pull up information.”

“Do you have any idea who’d want to do that and why?”

“Have you made any enemies since coming here?”

“There are a few individuals who don’t like me.”

“It goes with the territory.”

“Some of them are on the county payroll.”

His bushy eyebrows shot up. “Just what in the Sam Hill is going on?”

“A couple of the deputies aren’t happy about my appointment.” Neil filled the sheriff in on the grumblings he’d heard and the string of dead phone calls.

“Do any of them dislike you enough to try and damage your reputation?” he asked when Neil was done.

“I’m not sure. You know them better than me. What do you think?”

“I can see one or two of them getting their noses out of joint. Hank especially. He’s been with the department almost as long as me. But to go so far as to employ petty scare tactics and launch a smear campaign?” He jerked his thumb at the newspaper in Neil’s hand. “I don’t know. Strikes me as kind of underhanded, and Hank’s more of the in-your-face type.”

Neil agreed. “If you hear from him or any of the guys, let me know.”

“Count on it.”

“And if you have any advice on how to handle things, I’m willing to listen.”

Their visit continued with Otis giving Neil the benefit of his vast experience. He, in turn, brought Otis up-to-date on what had been happening at the station and in the community. Besides the illegal mining at Bear Creek Ranch, there wasn’t much. Their conversation centered mostly on the current status of the investigation. Neil could almost feel Otis’s desire to get back to work, and he sympathized. Men like him didn’t cotton well to inactivity.

“What about Carolina Sweetwater?” Neil asked.

“What about her?”

“You’re friends with her family. Would she have leaked information about me to the newspaper?”

“I don’t see why she would.”

Neil wasn’t about to explain the complexities of his
relationship with Carolina to the sheriff. “Last week, her boss at the station ordered her to do a story on me.”

“Why?”

“It was right after my appointment. He apparently considered me newsworthy.”

The sheriff scratched behind his ear. “I don’t recall hearing anything on the radio.”

“Carolina refused to do the story.”

“You don’t say?”

“My question is,” Neil said, “do you think she would have leaked the story to the newspaper?”

“I think a better question is, why would she do it now? What would she have to gain? If she wanted to expose your past, she’d have agreed to do it for KPKD.”

Neil had come to the same conclusion last night when he’d been sitting in his dark kitchen, unable to sleep.

“Carolina may be a bit of a flirt,” Otis said, “and date a lot of men, but don’t let that fool you. She’s as solid as they come. Honest as the day is long.”

Neil didn’t know her like the sheriff, but he tended to agree.

“Shame about her and that ex-fiancé of hers. The company he worked for shipped him to Mexico City for a two-year assignment. She wanted to go with him but her parents pressured her into staying. Mainly because the family trust doesn’t allow for owners to live outside the U.S.”

Though tempted, Neil refrained from asking any further questions. The sheriff might become curious as to the reason for Neil’s interest, and he wasn’t ready to explain.

Fortunately for him, the sheriff was in the mood to talk. “Rather than wait two years for her, the bum dumped her. Broke her heart.”

Neil couldn’t imagine any man in his right mind dumping Carolina.

Then again, hadn’t he, in a roundabout way?

No, there was a difference between refusing to enter into a relationship and breaking one off. Especially an engagement.

“That’s too bad.” Neil purposefully kept his response neutral.

“It changed her, but then, I suppose those things do. Patty thinks that’s why Carolina dates so much. She’s trying to forget how much the SOB hurt her.” The sheriff scoffed. “But after five years, you’d think she’d have gotten over him.”

Neil knew firsthand some things were just too painful to ever get over.

“Another cup of coffee?”

“Wish I could. I have to hit the road.”

Otis walked Neil to the door and clapped him on the shoulder. “Stop by anytime.”

“Rest up.”

“That’s all I do.” He rubbed his protruding belly. “And eat rabbit food. That damn doctor put me on a diet, too. There’s no end to his torture.”

Back in his cruiser, Neil turned on the radio and adjusted the volume to low. Since he was the last one to drive the vehicle, the radio was already set to KPKD. At the end of the commercial, Carolina’s voice came on. She was giving her final traffic report for the morning.

Neil turned up the volume and listened. How any woman could sound sexy reading a list of current traffic conditions, he didn’t know. But Carolina did. Was every man in listening range thinking the same thing as Neil? For a moment, he pictured a townful of men in their cars or at their desks, all of them fantasizing about kissing Carolina.

Neil didn’t have to fantasize; he could simply remember.

And it was killing him.

When she finished, Rowdy Rodgers bantered with her for a few seconds before promising to see her on Monday.

She and Neil had hardly spoken last night on the drive to her home from the pizza parlor. He’d been too shocked to talk. A hundred possibilities had swirled around in his head, and a hundred new worries and fears constricted his chest. All he’d known was that he needed to rush Zoey home and, if possible, get his hands on every copy of the newspaper before people read them.

He’d only succeeded on the first count.

Carolina had sensed he didn’t want to talk about the headlines in front of Zoey and occupied his daughter by asking her about dogs and school and horseback riding and favorite flavors of ice cream.

Was it a clever ploy? Despite what Otis had said about her honesty, Neil needed to speak to her in person about the leak.

At the next intersection, he went straight instead of turning right. The radio station and Carolina were one short mile down the road. When he arrived in the parking lot, he immediately spotted her blue PT Cruiser. She was still at work.

He sat in his vehicle for several minutes, debating whether to go inside or wait for her to come out. By the time the third person walked past, looking at him nervously, Neil made up his mind and went in.

“I’m here to see Carolina Sweetwater,” he told the receptionist behind the large and cluttered front desk.

She almost broke three long, glittery fingernails in her haste to buzz Carolina.

 

“I
S THERE SOMEWHERE
we can talk?”

“My cubicle’s this way.”

“In private.”

Carolina suppressed the small frisson of worry coursing
through her. She had no idea what to make of Neil’s unexpected appearance. Obviously, it had something to do with the article that had appeared in last night’s paper and the follow-up one this morning. But since she hadn’t tipped off the reporter, a fact she’d stressed as strongly as possible during their brief moment alone at her front door, there had to be another reason behind his visit.

His sole response to her claim of innocence had been a tight-lipped nod, which could be interpreted multiple ways. He didn’t believe her, or he believed her but was angry at whoever had leaked the story. He believed her but didn’t want to discuss the matter with Zoey nearby, which could account for his visit this morning.
He didn’t believe her.

It was hard not to come back to that.

“Management is using the conference room for a meeting,” she said, conscious of Marcie the receptionist’s avid interest. “The only other semiprivate rooms are the break room, which is like Grand Central Station, or the supply room.”

The idea of being shut in a crowded, messy supply room with Neil struck Carolina as terribly sitcom cliché. It also thrilled her. She might be mad enough at him to spit nails, but that didn’t change her attraction to him or her desire to repeat the searing kiss they’d shared.

Under different circumstances, of course. Not when he was standing across from her, glaring from beneath the brim of his cowboy hat.

She imagined him in the dress blues of the NYPD. The khaki uniform of the Gila County Sheriff’s Office suited him just fine but so would the other. No denying it, those shoulders of his would do justice to any jacket.

“Is there someplace else we can talk?” he asked.

“Afraid not.”

Adrian, the techie who’d invited Carolina on a date a few weeks ago, cruised by with the office manager. Both cast not-
so-discreet glances at Neil. Clearly they’d read the newspaper article or heard about it.

Neil ignored them, though the muscle in his jaw twitched, showing Carolina he wasn’t immune. “Are you off work yet?”

“Normally, I would be,” she said. “But I’m working late on the illegal mining story.”

That went over like a lead balloon.

“Can you leave?” His request came out like an order.

She resisted rolling her eyes and said to Marcie, “Let Ward know I’m going out for lunch.”

“You got it!”

Carolina could just picture the station’s phone system lighting up like a Christmas tree as the entire staff buzzed about her leaving with Neil.

They headed down the street rather than toward the parking lot.

“How about Ernesto’s?” he asked, putting on his sunglasses.

“For what?”

“Lunch.”

“That was just an excuse I gave Marcie.”

“So, you’re not hungry?”

“Are you?”

From behind the dark lenses, he gave her a look she could only guess at. “Let’s walk. There’s a little park on the corner.”

“Fine.”

Carolina was acutely aware of the attention they garnered from pedestrians and occupants in passing cars. Even those people who didn’t recognize Neil were probably wondering why a woman was strolling along the street with a uniformed lawman.

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