A Minute on the Lips Page 3

  “Do his ninjalike coffee skills make you wonder what else he might be capable of?” he asked as he reached over to ruffle the pages of her notebook. When she snapped her head back, stiffened in her seat and snatched her notebook out of his reach, he added a mental note to the list of things he wanted to know about the sheriff. What’s in the notebook?

  Curiosity had always been one of his best assets. It was also one of his biggest challenges. He’d never learned how to let a story go, something his ex-wife had shouted more than once.

  When he pulled his hand back, Andi took a deep, calming breath. And then she went back on the offensive. “Oscar’s skills aren’t all that important right now, Mr. Taylor. Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts between the time the restaurant closed and when you arrived this morning?”

  Something about that “Mr. Taylor” got to him. He wanted to ruffle her a bit. She wouldn’t put up with it for long—she never had any time to waste. He’d better make it good.

  He shook his head. “Nope, Sheriff. I spent last night at home.” He leaned forward again and looked up at her through his eyelashes. “I was all alone.”

  Andi scribbled a note and met his stare again.

  “Isn’t that sad?”

  “That no one can vouch for your whereabouts?”

  He shook his head. “No, that I was all alone.”

  Andi snorted. Or tried to. It came out as a strangled snarf, but he gave her points for trying. With a huff, she retorted, “That is very sad. Hearts all over Tall Pines and the tri-county area would break if they heard such a sad story.”

  He did his best not to laugh. Andi Jackson was adorable when she was riled.

  “All right, Mr. Taylor. If I have any more questions, I know where to find you.” When he didn’t move, Andi raised both eyebrows. “You can go.” She made little encouraging gestures with both hands.

  He started to ease out of the booth but paused on the edge. He didn’t want to leave. “You know, Sheriff, I’m a pretty good investigator. I spent a few years working the crime beat for the state paper before I came here.” His skills were a little rusty, but offering to help might get him into the tight-lipped sheriff’s good graces. Getting any info out of her was next to impossible. “I’d be happy to assist with your investigation. We could exchange information. Sure would make my job easier and the story better.”

  She nodded once. “Thank you, Mr. Taylor. I will let you know if I have any questions.”

  He shrugged one shoulder and stood. “I guess I’ll just have to stick close to you, Sheriff Jackson. For my readers.”

  Andi slapped her notebook closed and slid it into her pocket with authority. And meaning. What would she think if she knew he found that cute rather than authoritative? He should have his head examined. “We’ll have to see about that, Mr. Taylor. I can’t have you interfering with an investigation.”

  Of course not. She’d fight every step. That could be both frustrating and fun. He wanted to know what her problem was, why she fought him so hard. Some cops were glory hounds, anxious to get their names on the first page. Not Sheriff Jackson, not even in an election year. It was weird.

  “I’m not sure you’re seeing the big picture, Sheriff. A newspaper editor spends a lot of time tracking down the real story and in this town, there’s a whole lot more than meets the eye. I know a few things that might surprise you.” He thumped the table with two fingers and smiled at her over his shoulder as he left the diner.

  * * *

  ANDI WATCHED HIM leave. She couldn’t help it. Jeans and a polo were his normal summer uniform, but it worked for him.

  As she slid out of the booth, Mark stepped outside and maneuvered the heavy bench back into place under the window. When it was situated in the perfect spot, he stood up and put both hands on his hips. Their eyes met through the window and he ducked his head as if to say, See what I did there?

  Andi rolled her eyes and fought back a smile. She mouthed, Thank you. He nodded once, then turned around to take a seat. Sitting on a bench and watching the world go by might actually be part of a newspaper editor’s job. The boredom would probably kill her. Andi looked around the diner. Since the breakfast crowd didn’t appear to be too hectic, she walked over to the counter. “Jackie, I’m just going to take another quick look in the back.”

  He waved a hand as if to say, Sure, don’t bother me, as he went to help a customer at the cash register.

  Oscar was washing dishes as she walked through the swinging door. Jackie could stand to have extra help. Andi wandered back to Jackie’s office and made note of the window over the freezer in the back. The window was small and pretty high off the ground, but someone Oscar’s size could fit through it. She stretched, but the freezer kept her from reaching the latch.

  “Hey, Jackie?” Andi called out. He stuck his head through the order window. “Is this window locked?”

  Jackie glanced from her to the window. “Well, yes, why wouldn’t it be?”

  Andi silently counted to ten. “Are you sure it’s locked?”

  Jackie’s lips moved without sound before he said, “Oscar, grab a chair and check the window.”

  They both waited while Oscar floated across the kitchen to Jackie’s office. He came back with what appeared to be the first metal chair ever made. Rust dotted the legs, and Andi wondered if metal ever got dry rot. When he climbed on top, she moved behind to catch him in case the metal gave up the ghost.

  Oscar yanked on the handle, and the window rose soundlessly.

  “Why is that window unlocked?” Jackie’s face was a brilliant red, and Andi wondered if the three hairs he had left were going to run away in fear.

  Oscar shrugged. Andi did, too. “Well, I’m going to take a look outside. I’ll let you know if I find anything new, Jackie.”

  * * *

  MARK DID HIS best to contain a grin when Andi turned the corner into the crazily clean alley behind the diner, saw him leaning against the wall and cursed silently. He’d have to give Sheriff Jackson credit. No matter how often he caught her off guard, she recovered quickly. This time she straightened her shoulders and resumed a precise march.

  “What are you doing back here, Mr. Taylor?” She didn’t meet his stare but obviously looked to his left and right in what she’d call “searching for clues.” There were none. He knew that very well.

  “Just waiting on you, Sheriff.”

  Andi pulled out her phone to take pictures of the alley. “You didn’t touch anything, did you?” There was a scowl on her face. Mark figured it was an automatic reaction at this point. He decided then and there to change it. Automatic smiles were so much better, made for easier working conditions. And her smiles were really nice, probably because they were rare.

  He shook his head. “No, ma’am. I used to work with the police a lot. I only invaded one crime scene without permission, but I learned quickly not to do it again. The detective had a good six inches and a hundred pounds on me.”

  “Did you destroy any evidence that time?” Andi glanced back to watch him.

  “Nah. I got lucky. My guardian angel kept me out of trouble that time or maybe it was dumb luck. Either way, I’m pretty sure the only reason I’m standing here today is because Detective Wright yanked me back by the scruff of my neck just as I was about to make a fatal error.”

  Andi was curious. He could tell by the way she turned her head in his direction without really looking at him. She was also determined not to ask. “Okay, do you want to tell me what you’re doing back here? Other than standing right beside the scene I’m investigating?” He was cramping her style. Good. That would make him impossible to ignore. She’d already given him more than her normal blank-faced “no comment.”

  “Just want to make sure I’ve got enough details for my story, Sheriff.” He glanced around the alley. “I don’t see much of
interest back here.”

  Andi shot him a peeved glare.

  He held up both hands. “Don’t shoot the messenger. Tall Pines may be the only place in the world where even the back alleys are litter free.”

  He ticked off his observations on the fingers of one hand. “Pavement means no footprints or tire tracks. Window’s got no scrapes or scratches. Traffic on a weeknight is almost nonexistent so the thief had the opportunity to come in through that window, even with a stepladder, but there’s nothing here to say he did.”

  Andi propped her hands on her hips. “There’s no proof that he or she did, but the window was unlocked so I can’t rule it out.”

  “Not much to go on, is it?”

  Andi shook her head. “On the bright side, no one murdered the mayor or robbed a bank, either.”

  They walked back toward the end of the alley.

  “Still, you know Jackie’s going to make your life difficult until he has someone to point fingers at.” He shrugged. “And, of course, there’s the fact that you don’t like loose ends.”

  Andi frowned at him. “How do you know my feelings on loose ends?”

  “Good guess.” He surveyed her neat uniform, tidy hair, polished boots and precise steps. “Let me help.”

  Andi raised both eyebrows, communicating her surprise and disbelief. “Why would you want to help me? What’s in it for you?”

  “I know it’s not easy to deal with an unhappy Jackie. Plus, it’s good for me, too. People read the Times for news and stuff. This would be the news. Most of the time, I’ve just got a whole lot of the stuff.” He thrust both hands in his jeans pockets. After what felt like a full minute of contemplating his arms, Andi locked both eyes back on his face. He moved closer as if he was about to tell an important secret. Andi started to lean back but managed to hold her ground. “And, if helping you out with this case means that from now on you’ll be a little more open to sharing information, I consider it worth the effort.”

  When he stepped back, Andi inhaled deeply and blinked before she said, “Mr. Taylor, you and I both know why I won’t be accepting your offer. Besides, I’m really good at this. You just go ahead and toss your lure in the lake, okay? I’ll let you know how it all turns out.”

  Mark whistled. “Hmm, a low blow.” He reached down and grabbed her hand to slow her forceful retreat. “Sheriff, no matter how hard you work today, there’s going to be twice as much tomorrow. Twice as many crooks. Twice as many questions with no answers. You should learn to enjoy each day anyway. The work will always be there. Don’t forget about life.” He trailed his thumb over her pulse and the smooth, warm skin of her wrist before he let her hand slide out of his.

  * * *

  REFUSING TO RUB away the odd warmth lingering on her wrist, Andi turned and walked over to her SUV. The sun had risen, so instead of a nice, shaded truck, it was a metal box set on broil. Add that to the fact that she’d probably had her weekly intake of caffeine between the ride over to the diner and Oscar’s ninja coffee skills and the close proximity to the newspaper editor and Andi was starting to feel a bit steamed and a whole lot jittery. She needed air-conditioning, a gallon of water and some distance. It was no wonder her fingers were tingling like that. It probably had nothing to do with Mark Taylor.

  Taking a deep breath, Andi yanked open the door and managed not to take two steps back from the heat blast. Leather seats were such a bad idea.

  Still, she was satisfied that she’d managed to stand her ground with Mark Taylor even if she hadn’t actually gained any. Andi dropped down in the driver’s seat with a wince at the heat baking through her uniform pants, started the car and pulled away from the curb. As she reached down to crank up the air conditioner, she looked in the rearview mirror. Mark Taylor was standing at the edge of the curb watching her drive away with that smirk on his face. Andi was suddenly less sure whether she was holding her ground or losing the battle and she just didn’t know it yet.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE SHORT TRIP back to the office was lengthened by multiple stops for nervous tourists who were darting into the streets outside the designated crosswalks. If the pavement hadn’t been hotter than the sun, Andi might have pulled over and issued some stern warnings. Jaywalking was illegal—it was a safety issue. Scaring people straight was part of the sheriff’s job, but the mayor didn’t appreciate that.

  When she finally pulled into her designated parking spot, Andi turned off the ignition. She might have rested for a bit except she was afraid of baking her brain. She slid out quickly and slammed the door. Her palms still had a slight tingle going on, the effect of a massive amount of caffeine. Obviously.

  “Morning, Sheriff.” Lori had taken Nettie’s spot at the dispatch desk. Nettie worked early mornings, when things were a bit slower and she didn’t have to deal with as many citizens. Andi envied her the right to choose.

  Lori and Andi had gone to school together, but Lori stayed in Tall Pines to marry, divorce and remarry. Every greeting she issued might come with a smile, but there was also the edge of sharp teeth and the hint of a grimace. She’d worked for the old sheriff and might resent Andi taking his spot. He was her father, after all. Still, a job was a job and in Tall Pines, no one quit a good job on the principle of the thing. They were just too hard to come by. So Lori performed right on the edge, well enough to keep coming in every day but not so well that it could be misconstrued as approval or anything other than a deep-seated wish to inflict nonfelonious harm.

  Lori and Andi had a history anyway. Lori had been homecoming queen and head cheerleader. Andi had been president of the math club, a desperate overachiever intent on winning a college scholarship. She’d snatched valedictorian out of Lori’s pom-pom-waving paws at the last minute and still congratulated herself on that now and then. Lori probably didn’t think about it much. She had two beautiful little boys to show off. Pictures lined the wall beside the dispatch desk. The towheaded twins had to be about eight years old. Their names were Alexander and Andrew and they were perfectly identical. When they came in, Andi had no idea which was which and settled for a jovial and nonspecific “boys” whenever she had to address them directly.

  Andi’s small pangs of jealousy hadn’t driven her to put up pictures of her cat, Mojo, on the same wall. Not yet.

  “Morning, Lori. Is there anything urgent?”

  “Nope. Dan’s headed out to check on the one call we’ve got. Mrs. Haley thinks there’s been someone prowling around her garage at night.”

  Andi nodded. This prowler would probably be just like the last, a deer knocking over the chairs on Mrs. Haley’s porch, but the woman had a shotgun and an active imagination. It would be a good thing to check out.

  Andi waved at Dan as he stood up from one of the four desks crammed into the large room. It was time for the patrols to change over, so both Dan Jones and Jimmy Monroe were there. Jimmy was writing a report, and Dan had just finished checking any notes left from the previous shift. It was a small office. There were six full-time deputies for the entire county and reserves who helped out as needed.

  Jimmy looked up. “Anything we need to know about the incident over at Jackie’s?”

  Andi scratched her forehead as she tried to figure out how to answer. “Well, his trophies and the money and everything else in his safe were stolen. He’d corralled Oscar, his busboy, Wanda Blankenship and Mark Taylor when I got there. I couldn’t see any signs of a break-in, and Jackie swears the door was locked when he got there.”

  Dan crossed his arms over his chest and Jimmy leaned back in his chair. Andi could smell Lori hovering behind her. She had a thing for strawberry bubble gum.

  “So it’s somebody with a key,” Dan said. “Should be easy enough to figure out.”

  Andi agreed. Mostly. “Unless it’s a random thief who’s good with locks and safes.”

  They both sh
ook their heads. “Doesn’t seem likely.”

  “Except...I can’t rule it out, either,” Andi said.

  Dan held up three fingers. “C’mon, boss. Motive. Means. Opportunity.”

  “It’s hard to come up with a reason for stealing trophies, but money’s always a motivator.”

  Lori popped a bubble dangerously close to Andi’s ponytail. She couldn’t help but think it would be even more difficult to prove criminal intent for gum in her hair.

  Dan picked up his radio and walked around the desk. “Sounds personal, boss. You should definitely find out if Jackie has any enemies.”

  All three of them were quiet for a minute before Andi snorted. “Right. This is Jackie we’re talking about. If he wasn’t the best chili cook in this part of the state, he probably would’ve been chased out of town after his second lawsuit.”

  Both Dan and Jimmy nodded. They had strict instructions to stay away from Jackie. One of the deputies in the former administration had gotten too close for comfort, and Jackie had taken him all the way to court for harassment. He hadn’t won, but the court of public opinion was harder to argue with than the men in black robes.

  Jimmy slapped Andi on the shoulder. “Well, there’s always the traffic camera.” Another heavy silence filled the room before all four of them burst out into guffaws. The traffic camera was suggested at least once a season, most often by a tourist who’d seen years of police dramas and wanted to find out whether something had been taken from his car or hotel room.

  Tall Pines had a single stoplight on the two-lane highway that ran through town. And there was no camera on it. Everywhere else, traffic was controlled by well-placed stop signs and law-abiding citizens. Most of the time everyone was happy to live in a place where the only security they might need was the lock their car or house was already equipped with.