grinned at his arresting officer, unfazed by his angry demand. “Delivering flowers for Mrs. C.”
Matt could be such a stuffed shirt sometimes—so could his other three brothers—but Matt was the one who worried most about what people thought of the O’Malleys. To make amends, he caught Matt in a bear hug. “Thanks for coming along to support me, buddy.”
Matt shrugged him off, saying through clenched teeth, “I’m not here to support you. I’m here to make sure you don’t get in any more trouble.” He led the way into the courtroom, then spun around. “You’re aware that I might run for county sheriff, aren’t you? Your antics last night won’t help my chances.”
Will doubted the residents of Peaks County thought any less of Matt or the rest of the O’Malleys after last night, considering most of the courtroom audience—Will noted with pleasure—were with him at the time. “Sure. In fact, I’ll be your campaign manager.”
“Over my dead body,” Matt growled as Will stepped up to the podium and turned toward the bench.
Wow! was his first reaction as he studied the judge. Her dark red hair was pulled back in a severe style that went with her suit and gavel. A few tendrils had worked themselves loose, softening her face and contrasting with her otherwise flawless presentation. She looked serious in a strangely attractive way and would probably send him to the slammer, if she could guess his thoughts. She looked up, trained her green eyes on Will and he felt something hit him deep in his gut.
Every year at their wedding anniversary party, Mac O’Malley told the story of how he vowed he’d marry their mother, Sarah, the moment he laid eyes on her. Until now, Will had believed that was just Irish blarney.
Convinced he was gazing at the woman he’d marry and needing to share his feelings with Matt, he murmured, “I’m going to marry that woman someday.”
JUDGE REBECCA MCBRIDE had finished her previous case concerning a pig called Louella who’d run amok in a dress boutique. Feeling as though she was caught up in reruns of Green Acres, she wondered yet again, Why on earth did I take this job?
Steeling herself, she glanced up, ready to face the next bizarre case. Her eyes locked with the defendant’s and her heart rate kicked up several notches.
Who knew this town of four ski mountains, three sets of traffic lights, 2,597 residents and one extremely naughty pig had some attractions, after all?
“Shut up!” Deputy O’Malley hissed.
Becky peered over the top of her glasses. “Were you speaking to me?”
“No, Judge. I was speaking to my—” he glared at the defendant “—brother.”
That would explain the striking similarity. However, Deputy O’Malley was, as always, dressed immaculately, while his brother wore faded blue jeans, tan cowboy boots and a chambray shirt that stretched across broad shoulders. His neatly pressed shirt was at odds with his too-long black hair.
“The defendant is my younger brother, Judge. Any resemblance ends with our appearance,” the deputy said.
She clasped her hands in front of her, steepled her thumbs and gave the defendant her most intimidating stare. “Mr. O’Malley, you’ve been charged with damaging demolition equipment belonging to the Mountain Resorts Development Company. How do you plead?”
“Guilty, Your Honor.”
His admission surprised her. So did her own response to his deep-dimpled smile. It went clear up to his dark brown eyes and did inexplicable things to her insides.
She took a deep, calming breath before saying, “Why did you vandalize the vehicles?”
“The company has bought an entire block at the north end of Main Street. They want to demolish the existing buildings in order to erect an eight-story condominium complex and shopping mall,” he explained.
“Those buildings are derelict. I should think a shopping mall and housing—given the town’s shortage—would rejuvenate the area,” Becky pointed out.
“Granted. But they’re fine examples of Colorado Victorian architecture. Although many haven’t been occupied since the gold mines closed back in ’49, with sensitive renovation they could be restored to their former glory.”
Becky admired his passion, if not his grasp on reality. In her opinion, some of the buildings would blow over in a good breeze. “As they aren’t part of the protected Victorian district, the owners can do what they like with them.”
“If you’ll pardon the expression, Your Honor, certain aspects of the town’s planning stink. There’s been no public input into this development. The mayor’s on the board of the development company and there’s something very wrong with that picture. If we don’t take a stand now, Spruce Lake could wind up full of concrete condos and shopping malls. Once those buildings are demolished, we won’t be able to get them back. Our town’s unique heritage should be preserved and I’m prepared to do anything to ensure that.”
Despite his casual appearance, Becky conceded he was both articulate and public-spirited. “Your passion is admirable if a little misguided, sir. You vandalized private property and you’ll have to be punished for it.”
“Your Honor? If I could speak in my brother’s favor.”
Becky inclined her head.
The deputy scowled at his brother. “Will tends to be impetuous. Sometimes his enthusiasm gets in the way of his good intentions.”
The court audience murmured their assent.
“In spite of how irresponsibly he acted last night, Will’s a fine person…This was his first offence and, ah, he’s extremely kind to animals, children and the elderly.”
“Deputy O’Malley, that’s enough.” Becky was losing her patience. She consulted the documents, then returned her attention to Will. “It states here that you entered private property and let the air out of the demolition vehicles’ tires.”
He grinned, as though enormously pleased with his achievement. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Why?” she asked, and reached for a glass of water to cover the hoarseness in her voice. Surely he wasn’t trying to flirt with her?
“The development company moved in their equipment, although the contract for sale hasn’t closed yet. To prevent them from demolishing anything, a number of concerned citizens formed a human chain around the buildings while I flattened all the tires.”
When the audience cheered, Becky surmised most of them were probably part of that “human chain.”
She banged her gavel and ordered, “Silence!” Fixing him with her sternest glare, she said, “You also painted unflattering messages on their vehicles.”
The audience laughed and several wolf-whistled. “Way to go, boy,” Frank Farquar yelled, and Louella gave a snort of agreement.
Becky swore she could see steam rising from Matt O’Malley’s ears. “What’s that blasted pig still doing here?” she hissed at the bailiff.
“Louella is your next case. She ate the
