“Just showin’ him around town, huh?” Ethel snorted. “That ought to take you all of about ten minutes, and you ought not to tell me fibs like that, Allison Marie. What if I told your dad? And as for you,” she turned her gaze on Zeph, “we got records going back to 1867. You ought to be able to find what you want.”
He took Allie’s hand and tried to look innocent. And trustworthy. In a big city, he’d have to go through a dozen hoops to see records but here…well, maybe. “That’s perfect, Ethel—if it’s all right to call you Ethel…?”
She nodded, leaning conspiratorially over the counter. “The only real builder in town would be Blanton’s,” she said. “Big-time company. Does stuff all over the state. Not much here in town.”
“What do people do if they want to build here?”
“Not much building goes on. Most people do stuff for themselves. Although—Santos has picked up a few jobs.”
That sounded promising. “How’s that been working out?”
“Pretty well. He built a house for my daughter and her husband and they’re very happy with it.”
Not so promising. “Not like those vacation cabins built when Blanton was running—”
“He isn’t running anything around here anymore,” Ethel said. “I can’t believe we elected him mayor. Sit down over there.” She motioned to a library table on the other side of the room. “I’ll get you the permits ledger.”
Zeph smiled and sat. Only in Stone’s Crossing. He already knew that privacy wasn’t something these people understood. Ethel must never have heard of confidentiality either. In a few minutes, she came back bearing a large book. He leaped up and took it, setting it carefully on the table. “No microfilm here, I guess.”
Ethel laughed. “In Stone’s Crossing? Not a chance. We’re not like all those citified places with their high-falutin’ technology. These go back about ten years. Have fun.”
“I’ve got to get back to the clinic,” Allie said. “I’ll come back for you in an hour?”
“I’ll meet you out front.” Zeph put a finger under her chin and tipped her face up to brush a kiss across her mouth.
“Aww,” Ethel said. “Sweet. Bet you five dollars we’ve got us a new resident.”
Zeph winked at her and settled in to review the permits. An hour later, he thanked Ethel and strolled down the hall to the door to wait for Allie.
A tall, blond man came out of the door marked Mayor and stopped short at the sight of Zeph. “Help you?”
“Just on my way out,” Zeph answered. The man looked familiar. Zeph ran a quick mental scan of the photos he’d studied before leaving L. A. Of course. Mayor Bartelett. “Ethel took care of what I needed.”
“We don’t often see strangers in here. Bill Bartelett. Mayor of this fine town.” He offered a hand. “Welcome to Stone’s Crossing.”
“Zeph Granger. It’s a pleasure, Mr. Mayor,” Zeph said. “You’re new since the last time I came here.”
“Yep. Monty told me about your role in the recent problems. Appreciate what you did, you know. If you hadn’t helped clear things up, I’d still be sitting in Sacramento hating retirement. I was at U.C. Davis until I retired, and then we moved into Sacramento. My wife wanted something a little more...dynamic than Davis. But it didn’t suit, so we moved here.”
“Quite a change.” Zeph bit his tongue to keep from saying something tactless like, “You moved here on purpose?” Admittedly, Sacramento wasn’t the most cosmopolitan place in the world, but at least it was a city. Still, people came in a lot of flavors, and this guy might like little towns. Allie did, after all. But his detective’s sixth sense quivered over the possibility of some nefarious reason for the move. “You couldn’t have ended up in a prettier place. How did you happen to pick Stone’s Crossing? It’s not exactly high profile.”
Bartelett’s expression didn’t change but his gaze shifted a fraction, and Zeph’s attention sharpened. “I knew the previous mayor. Didn’t have any business dealings with him, of course,” he added hastily. “But I knew about the town, and it always sounded like a nice place to live.”
Bartelett shifted so shadow fell across his face, smoothing age lines, and recognition hit Zeph. This was the third man in the photo of Mentrine and Blanton. His attention sharpened and the sense of familiarity clicked into place. This guy had not only known Blanton, he’d apparently been buddies with Mentrine also, because he’d been in that photo on Mentrine’s office wall. “You must have moved here right after Blanton—went away.”
“Ah, yes. That’s right. But what brought you back to town? Not planning to arrest another mayor, I hope.” The mayor’s voice held an uneasy note that caught Zeph’s attention.
“Nope. I don’t know what Monty told you, but I’m not law enforcement.” He’d stick with the investor story, just in case Bartelett and Mentrine compared notes.
“Strange. I had the impression you were a private detective. If you’re here to investigate one of my voters, I’d like to know about it.”
“On vacation, Mr. Mayor. Just visiting.”
“There wouldn’t be much here for you anyway,” Bartelett said heartily. Too heartily? “From what I understand, most detectives don’t do much except follow cheating spouses. Not much scope for that here.”
“Really? I would have thought human nature was the same everywhere.”
“I’m sure it is. But—well, you’ll find out what a small town is like if you stay here very long. Like I told my wife, if I have a stray thought, it’s gossip at the café within an hour and on the front page within a week. Anyone who cheats in this town doesn’t have a chance.”
Interesting choice of subject. Was the mayor guilty? Of what? Did he think Zeph had come to town to catch him? And did he mean being unfaithful to a spouse or actual illegal wrongdoing? “Good thing neither one of us is thinking of cheating then,” he said. “I’m just hanging around to spend time with Allie. A man would visit places a lot worse than Stone’s Crossing to see a woman like her.”
“Can’t say I blame you,” the mayor said with a rusty laugh. “She’s a beauty, all right.”
Zeph glanced at the wedding band on Bartelett’s left hand.
Bartelett flushed. “I’m married, Granger, not dead. My only hope is that you’re not going to rob us of our only veterinarian.”
“That wasn’t in my plans,” Zeph said slowly, and wondered if he lied. Could he really want Allie for more than the pleasure of a short, hot fling? Want her in L. A., in his house, in his life?
“We’ll have to hope your plans don’t change then,” Bartelett said.
“Nothing for you to worry about, Mr. Mayor. Just hanging out and enjoying the town. I’ve got some great pictures already. Very photogenic place.”
“I’ve heard that you’ve been photographing—”
“There’s Allie. Thanks for the welcome.” After shaking hands, he added, “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around town.” He sauntered out to the truck, glancing back at the mayor as he climbed in and slammed the truck door.
Curious . The man had gone quite pale.
****
“Now what have you done?” Allie turned the truck onto Main Street and her hands tightened on the wheel as if it were Zeph’s neck. “He looked like he’d seen a ghost. Did you accuse him of—”
“Nothing. I accused him of nothing.”
“All right. What did you say to him?”
“Is there any chance he’s cheating on his wife?”
Allie suppressed a flash of irritation. “Honestly, Zeph. You go out of your way to sound dishonest and wimpy to make a sleaze like Wend Seldon comfortable, and then when you’re with a solid citizen like the mayor, you go all private eye. No, he’s not cheating on his wife.”
“I am a private eye. And I was just fishing.”
“What did you catch?”
“Not sure.”
“What does cheating have to do with your case?”
“Watch the road. Nothing. Probably. But he knows I’m a detective and thinks I’m here to catch someone cheating. He turned pale when we talked about me taking pictures and seeing him around. So I have to wonder—is he stepping out on his wife, or skimming the town treasury, or…is he the person I’m looking for?”
“You really see the down side of everything and everyone, don’t you?”
“Pretty much.”
“Does this mean he’s your prime suspect now?”
“Think
X-Files
, honey.”
“
X-Files
?”
Zeph’s grin turned wolfish. “Trust no one. Except you, of course.”
“Of course.” She made a careful stop at the town traffic light which blinked red at this time of day. “Oh, and by the way? I didn’t tell anyone you’re a detective. But let me see…Hannah, Luke, Monty, and Wend’s brother have always known. Betty, my father, my sister, Bartelett, and Wend do too. You think maybe it’s just general knowledge?”
“I could be on vacation. I could have changed careers and be looking for investment opportunities. I could be visiting a woman I met and liked.”
Allie shivered. “Sure, you could. And I’ll keep telling people that’s what you’re doing, because I said I would. But I don’t think I can stand much more of this. What can we do to get my father off your list?”
“More investigation. You can help.”
“I’ll help, all right,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Great. Tell me about his income.”
“Investments, Social Security, and 401K. And when we find proof of Dad’s innocence, I just might say ‘I told you so.’”
“You might say, ‘Thank you for clearing Dad.’”
“Of course. But first, we have another fun family evening of pretending everything is hunky dory and that you’re really here because of me.”
“It’s not a lie, Allie.”
“You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t a job.”
“True. But I’d for damned sure be trying to get you to L. A. You can bet money on that.”
He wanted her to visit him. Hard on the heels of the zing of pleasure came memories of the evening she’d spent at his house. Yeah, sure she’d go to L. A. again. Sure. Like her last visit was such a success.
Silence frosted the inside of the truck for the rest of the ride to her father’s house. She drove mechanically, trying not to think about L .A., trying not to think about that moment at City Hall when she’d believed, just for an instant, that Zeph really did want to move to Stone’s Crossing and build a house. God, could she have been any more pathetic?
She parked the truck behind her father’s SUV. Before she could get out, Zeph had come around to open her door. “It’s not all pretense, Allie. Why assume Betty’s wrong?”
“Betty?” Allie turned to slide to the ground.
Zeph put his hands at her waist and lifted her. Let her slide down his body in a slow, seductive skim that set her glowing. “I am courting you, Allie.”
Before she could answer, the front door burst open and her sister bounded down the steps. “Allie, Allie. I’m home.” She hit like an oversized puppy, all floppy hair and enthusiasm. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Winn!” Allie hugged her. “Welcome home.”
“And Zeph, too.” Winn pulled him into the hug.
“Hello, Winn,” Zeph said. “You’re looking a whole lot better than last time I saw you.”
“Considering that was in the hospital after that jerk Derek had knocked me out, you’re not saying much.” Winn bounced away, leaving Allie in Zeph’s arms.
Allie’s head somehow nestled against his shoulder. Maybe she could just stay here forever.
His hold tightened. “Definitely courting you.”
“Oh,” she whispered, a weak little breath of sound. She jerked away from him. Oh?
Oh?
Since when did she make girl noises like that? “We should—”
“Go inside? Yes.” He followed her into the front parlor. “But I’d rather stay with you,” he whispered in her ear, sending shivers along her nerves.
Her father stood by a butler’s cart, pouring himself a drink.
“Got one of those for me, Dad?” Allie asked.
“Me too,” Winn said.
“Is the child really old enough to drink?” Allie winked at Zeph.
“The child is definitely of age. You missed a lot of things being away at school.” Winn accepted a stingy glass from her father. “Welcome back, Zeph,” she said, raising it to him. “Planning to take down another mayor?”
“No, dear,” her father said. “He’s after your sister.”
“Good idea.” Winn’s face lit and she hugged him again. “Hope you catch her. You’d make an awfully nice addition to the family. Ow!” She swatted Allie’s hand away. “You pinched me.”
“Well, you embarrassed me. Try to act like an adult for once.”
Her father turned his back on his daughters. “Scotch?” he said to Zeph, pointedly ignoring them. When Zeph nodded, he poured from an antique cut-glass decanter.
Zeph accepted the glass. “Thank you, sir.” He tasted, and raised an eyebrow. “Laphroig? I didn’t expect that here.”
“I’d say you have the typical urbanite’s misconceptions about small towns,” her dad told him in his most judicial tones.
“Da-a-ad,” Winn protested. “What are the chances anyone else in town has anything like that?”
“The mayor?” Allie murmured.
“He doesn’t count. He’s not from around here,” Winn protested.