Town Darling (13 page)

“But you were so head over
heels for him,” Casey reminded her.  “Should that really matter?”

Dina glared at Casey and
cleverly raised her brows.  “Remember how handsome you thought Vaughn was when
you first laid eyes on him in his uniform?”

Casey’s expression twisted
into a sneer.  “That’s different,” she remarked.  “I was fifteen at the time. 
At that age, romantic was a guy with a cool car.”

“Who did you like that had
a cool car?” Dina remarked with a humored look.

“You’re missing the point,”
Casey replied.

“No, I think I’ve made
one.”

Casey groaned and shook her
head.  Dina was insufferable at times.  Her friend needed to mind her manners,
because she wasn’t above subjecting her to sheer torture.  An afternoon
cleaning with Ruger would wear the fight out of her.

“I hope you’re not
spreading those rumors around about my teenage crush on Sheriff Holt,” Casey
remarked.  “That was a long time ago.”

“Relax,” Dina groaned. 
“I’ve kept that secret for years.  I wouldn’t betray your confidence.”

“You told my mother,” Casey
reminded.

“That didn’t count,” she
insisted.  “She already knew.”

Casey rolled her eyes. 
Several yards away, Vaughn stood next to his police blazer and stared at Grey
while shaking his head.

“You don’t seem to
understand the seriousness of the situation, Grey,” he firmly insisted.  “Your
sister is going out of her way to enrage some very unsavory characters.”

Grey appeared understanding
and approachable.  “I appreciate your concern, Sheriff, and I do understand the
seriousness of her actions,” he insisted.  “I promise I’ll talk to her.” 
Grey’s look turned serious.  “I know it’s been two years, but she’s still
dealing with what happened.  If it wasn’t for Ruger and Diesel, she never would
have gotten through this.”

“Family friends, huh?”
Vaughn asked while appearing deep in thought.

“Well, one was a little
more than friends with Casey,” he said with a sly grin.  “If you get my drift.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I
do,” Vaughn muttered.

“But, hey, at least getting
it nightly made her tolerable,” Grey said while deviously raising his brows in
a perverse manner.

“Uh, huh,” Vaughn said and
tensed.  “This conversation is starting to make me uncomfortable.”

“Oh, because she’s my
sister.  I understand.”

“Yeah, that too,” Vaughn
muttered.

“Don’t worry about Casey,”
he announced and added a reassuring nod.  “I’ll make sure she plays nice.”

“That would be--”  Vaughn
hesitated, considered his words, and sighed deeply.  “--quite an achievement.”

“Lighten up, Sheriff.  You’re
going to go prematurely gray for nothing.”  Grey suddenly grinned and opened
the box of doughnuts.  “Doughnut?”

Vaughn smiled and declined
with a slight shake of his head.  Grey maintained his grin and waved the box of
freshly baked, colorful doughnuts before him.

“Come on,” he teased, “you
know you want one.  Everyone knows cops love their doughnuts.”

Vaughn snorted a laugh and
took a pink doughnut with sprinkles.  “Thanks.”

Grey shut the box and
nodded.  “Thanks for stopping by, Sheriff.”

Sheriff Holt got into his
blazer, backed up to the barn, and then drove down the driveway.  Grey watched
him drive away then sneered.  He turned and headed for the porch where Dina sat
with Casey.  His relatively charming smile again returned as if on cue.  He
walked onto the porch and set down his doughnuts on the table next to Casey. 

“Guard those while I get my
coffee,” Grey said firmly.

Dina suddenly jumped up
from her chair with a little too much enthusiasm.  “I’ll get you some coffee.”

“That’s not--”

Dina hurried past him and
into the house.  He watched her hasty retreat, collapsed into the vacant chair
with a disgusted moan, and smirked. 

“She saw Diesel without his
shirt, didn’t she?”

Casey grinned.  “Yep.”

“Great,” he groaned.  “Now
I get to hear Diesel banging her all night long.”

Grey opened his box of
doughnuts, snatched one, and ate it with disgust.

“What did our illustrious
sheriff have to say?” Casey asked while raising a curious brow.  “I assume it
was about me.”

Grey casually nodded.  “He
said you’ve got a great ass and asked if he could throw you over the hood of
his cruiser and bang the shit out of you,” Grey casually replied.  “I said,
‘sure, why not’.  He seemed pleased.  I don’t think we’ll need to worry about
him after you close that deal.”

Casey sneered at Grey and
folded her arms over her chest.  “If I thought you were serious, I’d probably
have to kill you.”

Grey chuckled.  “He
suggested you play nice.”

“With him?”  She snorted a
laugh.  “Yeah, right,” she scoffed.  “Like that’s going to ever happen.  For
me, playing nice with Sheriff Holt would be kicking him everywhere except in
his boys.  What did you tell him?”

Grey shrugged, again
without looking at her, and took another bite from his doughnut.  “I told him
I’d make sure you played nice.”  He glared at her with his brows raised.  “And
you’re going to play nice.”

She glared back at him and
smirked.  “You’re dreaming.”

Grey smiled deviously at
her.  “Oh, we’ll see about that, my darling sister.”

L
ater that morning, Vaughn
walked across the small bullpen toward his office.  There appeared to be no one
around, which was good, since he appeared to be in a foul mood as he entered
his office.  He stopped just inside the doorway.  Ernest sat in the chair
before his desk and flipped through a folder that had been lying on top. 
Vaughn approached, snatched the folder from Ernest, and walked behind his
desk.  He tossed the folder down as he collapsed into his chair and looked at
the man across from him.

“Come in, Ernest,” Vaughn
scoffed lowly.  “Won’t you have a seat?”

Vaughn leaned back in his
chair, folded his hands across his abdomen, and stared at Ernest with little
expression.  Ernest grinned and leaned forward.

“And I thought Wiley lacked
manners,” Ernest remarked.  “You really should work on your disposition.”

“What do you want?” Vaughn
now demanded with limited patience.

“Casey Remington behind
bars would be nice for a start,” he snapped.

“Sorry, Ernest,” Vaughn
announced.  “It was self-defense.  I saw the video myself.”

“Along with half the town,”
Ernest scoffed.  “That girl is a menace and needs to be put in her place.”

“You’re absolutely right,”
Vaughn replied.  “These damned women today think they have the right to keep
men from pawing their bodies.  What the hell kind of world are we living in? 
Next they’ll be speaking their minds and then the whole world will just go to
hell.”

Ernest sneered at Vaughn. 

“God,” Vaughn continued
with a sigh, “I miss the good old days when we could just club them over the
head and drag them into our caves.”

“You’re a real prick, you
know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” Vaughn
scoffed.  He leaned across his desk, glared at Ernest, and turned serious. 
“You tell your boys to stay away from Casey Remington.  She and her brother
have been through enough.”

“She didn’t exactly strike
me as being traumatized,” Ernest remarked.  “I don’t think she learned anything
from what happened to her and her family.”

Vaughn straightened without
taking his eyes off Ernest.  “I’m curious, Ernest.  Was that a confession or a
threat?”

Ernest appeared annoyed
then smirked.  “Does this have to do with Melanie?”

Vaughn looked stunned and
shook his head while marveling at Ernest’s candor.  “This has nothing to do
with your niece, so stop pretending that is does.”

“You’re awfully defensive
over Casey,” Ernest said firmly.

Vaughn suddenly raised his
brows and nodded.  “You’re right; I am,” he snorted.  “Someone tried to murder
her two years ago and nearly succeeded.  I’m a little cranky knowing there’s a
murderer running around my town.  And you better believe if he tries to finish
what he started two years ago, I’m putting a bullet between his eyes.”

Vaughn and Ernest stared at
each other a long moment in silence.

“My boys are innocent,”
Ernest finally scoffed.  “We’ve been through this a thousand times.”

“Yeah?” Vaughn sneered. 
“So let’s make it a thousand and one.”

Ernest stood with disgust. 
“Just watch yourself, Sheriff,” he snapped.  “I helped put you behind that
badge, and I can make it all go away.”

Vaughn casually stood and
placed his hands on his hip and gun handle.  He looked at Ernest with no
emotion.  “No, Ernest,” he said flatly.  “Shooting a cold-blooded killer three
times in the chest put me behind this badge, and nothing short of putting me
six feet under is going to remove it from me.  Keep your boys away from Casey
Remington.”

“Or what, Sheriff?” he
remarked while sneering.

“Or I’ll let her finish
what they started in the tavern last night,” Vaughn firmly replied.

Ernest glared his
annoyance, turned, and left the office.  Vaughn watched him leave, sneered with
disgust, and shook his head.  He flopped back down in his chair and groaned
while looking at the ceiling.

“I should probably up my
life insurance policy,” Vaughn muttered.

†

I
t was nearly noon later
that day.  The town had not changed in two years.  The banner across the street
appeared almost exactly the same but it now read, "100th Annual
Fair".  Casey rode her gray horse through town and received several stares
followed by smiles and waves.  People saw her and begin collecting and clucking
with one another.  Casey wondered if they were happy to see her or surprised
she’d returned.  She casually glanced at a few of the familiar faces;
recognizing her parents’ supposed friends.  They were the same people who
gossiped endlessly about their murders.  She wondered which ones betrayed her
parents with their callous remarks and finger pointing.  The more she thought
about it; the less she cared.  She loathed them all.  Casey rode up to a
parking meter just outside the police station.  She dismounted the gray horse,
tied it to the meter, and placed money in it.  As she walked onto the sidewalk,
Abby suddenly appeared and approached her.  Abby seemed enthusiastic to see
her.  She really couldn’t understand why.  Mrs. Mayor had to know how she
really felt about her.

“Casey,” Abby announced
cheerfully while smiling.  “I heard you were back.  You look great.  How have
you been?”

As Casey stared at Mrs.
Mayor, a thousand thoughts raced through her mind.  She wanted to lash out at
the loathsome woman but buried her hatred deep inside.  A strange, almost
disturbing smile crossed Casey’s face as she attempted to be polite.

“Mrs. Mayor,” she responded
almost as cheerfully and wondered if the woman knew how much she wanted to
punch her in the face.  “Grey and I are doing well.  How have you been?”

Abby appeared almost
surprised by her politeness and began her usual, long-winded answer to an
insincere question.  “I can’t complain,” she replied.  “We’re getting ready for
our 100
^th
annual fair.  It’s going to be spectacular.  The best
ever.  I hope you and Grey will attend.  You missed a lovely memorial service
held in your parents’ honor two years ago.  Perhaps we could do something
special in their honor this year now that you’re back.”

Casey was regretting having
been so polite to Mrs. Mayor.  She knew she should have started out by punching
her in the face.  Now, if she did it, it would just seem rude.

“You remember my Melanie?” 
She suddenly laughed.  “Of course you do.  It’s only been two years.  She has
this amazing routine for the talent show this year.  I do hope you can
attend.”  She suddenly gasped and appeared excited.  “You and Grey should
participate at the fair.  I’m sure we can find something for the two of you to
do in order to contribute.  Everyone will be thrilled if you participated.  You
could collect tickets or something.”

Casey maintained her smile
while screaming in her head.  How long did she have to stand here and listen to
this woman drone on?  Could she punch her in the face?  She was suddenly
curious if punching Botox would be like punching play dough.  The thought of
Mrs. Mayor with a fist print permanently embedded in her face was actually
quite humorous.  As Abby continued to talk with no letup in sight, Casey
realized she needed to leave before something unforeseen happened to the woman.

“You know,” Casey suddenly
announced, interrupting her, “I’ll talk to Grey about it and get back to you. 
If you’ll excuse me, I need have words with our sheriff.”

Abby nodded and remained
enthusiastic.  “Yes, of course.  Let me know.  It was great seeing you again. 
Stop by the house some time.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that,” Casey
replied and silently snickered to herself.  As if that would ever happen. 

Casey turned and hurried
into the police station.  She entered the bullpen and looked around.  With all
her run-ins with Vaughn, she’d never actually been inside the police station
before.  Surprisingly, she wasn’t impressed.  Several deputies’ desks lined the
bullpen and the dispatch desk.  Casey sought out the sheriff’s office and
approached.  The door was closed, but Melanie was seen talking to Vaughn beyond
the glass.  Jeannie sat behind the dispatch desk before Vaughn’s office.  She
looked up, saw Casey, and appeared surprised.

“Oh, my goodness, Casey
Remington!” Jeannie announced excitedly.

“Hi, Jeannie.”

The former tavern waitress
turned police dispatch appeared giddy.  “If you’re here to rip the sheriff a
new one, you’ll need to take a number.”

“Yes, I see Melanie in
there,” Casey teased.  “The sheriff looks pissed.”

“Melanie has that effect on
him.”

“She has that effect on a
lot of people,” Tucker announced from across the room

Casey turned to see Deputy
Tucker a few feet away.  She’d caught a glimpse of him at the tavern last
evening, but she’d almost completely forgotten what he’d even looked like.  She
didn’t know how she could forget Dina’s fantasy man.  Actually, Deputy Tucker
was a lot of women’s fantasy man.  Even Casey couldn’t deny he was handsome.

“Good to see you out of
those handcuffs for a change.  It agrees with you,” Tucker remarked while
grinning.

“I thought the sheriff
might enjoy cuffing me once, you know, for old times’ sake,” Casey teased.

“Same old Casey,” he said
with a chuckle.  “You really know how to push his buttons.  Come to my office. 
I’ll show you around.”

Casey walked with Tucker to
the next desk over. 

He collapsed behind his
desk, clasped his hands over his abdomen, and grinned.  “Well, what do you
think?”

She looked around and
nodded.  “Very roomy.  Nice airflow, but some curtains would probably brighten
it up.”

He chuckled in response. 
“What brings you to Darwood Falls’ finest?”

“Just wanted to talk to the
sheriff,” she announced and attempted an embarrassed smile.  “We sort of got
off to a bad start yesterday.”  That was a lie.  Their bad start didn’t bother
her in the least.

“You mean you kicking
Harford ass?” Tucker teased.  “Wiley sent me the video.  That was pretty
amazing how you handled all four of them.  Are you a black belt?”

“Unofficially, I suppose,”
she replied and appeared disinterested in the subject.  “I heard Wiley is
tending bar at the tavern.  I didn’t see him there last night.”

“Just Tuesday, Friday, and
Saturday nights.  He’s dying to see you,” Tucker said with a grin.  “Not that I
blame him.  You are a sight for sore eyes.”

Casey laughed and shook her
head.  “And you’re still as charming as ever.”  She appeared curious.  “What
happened with Melanie?  You two were quite the couple two years ago.”

He shrugged with
disinterest.  “When Vaughn became sheriff, she jumped ship--and him.  What can
I say; the girl likes men in power.”

“I don’t understand how
Vaughn became sheriff,” she remarked and appeared curious.  “I thought you were
next in line.  What happened?”

“When he saved you, he
became a hero,” he informed her.  “The town wanted him for sheriff, so Wiley
appointed him.  End of story.”

She considered the comment
and appeared curious.  “So if I had died, he wouldn’t be sheriff?”  She
suddenly laughed.  “There’s some irony to that.”

Tucker chuckled softly. 
“He’s my best friend, so I’m required to be happy for him.”

The office door opened, and
Vaughn’s voice was heard.  “Please don’t come here anymore, Mel,” Vaughn
announced from his office doorway.

Casey and Tucker now stared
at the sheriff’s office.  Melanie placed her arms around Vaughn’s neck and
smiled lustfully while looking into his dark eyes.

“We both know this isn’t
over,” Melanie announced playfully.  “You’ll come crawling back.  They all do.”

Vaughn removed Melanie’s
arms from his neck and showed no emotion.  “Stop it.”

“Oh, I forgot,” she
playfully pouted then grinned.  “No public displays of affection.  Always
professional.  Last of the true Boy Scouts.”

As Casey stared at Melanie,
something twitched inside her.  There had never been any animosity between
them, but her presence somehow bothered Casey.  Perhaps it had something to do
with Vaughn’s cruel reference to Casey being the town darling and needing to be
spanked, yet he somehow ended up screwing the mayor’s spoiled, little girl. 
The more she thought about it, all her problems seemed to begin and end with
Vaughn.  As satisfying as it was kicking all four Harford boys’ asses last
night, maybe she’d be more satisfied if she struck Vaughn again.  Casey
dismissed her inappropriate thoughts.  Kicking his ass wasn’t her reason for
calling.  She wished it had been.  She casually approached Jeanie’s desk. 
Melanie saw Casey and her face lost all expression.  She immediately tensed. 
She attempted a smile and looked at Vaughn while smirking.

“I guess someone’s right
hand will be getting a workout tonight,” Melanie boldly announced.

Vaughn rolled his eyes with
disgust.