Looking for Sophie. Roz Denny Fox

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Looking for Sophie - Roz Denny Fox Mills & Boon Superromance

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nerves had frayed and she found it difficult to concentrate on doing the math necessary to average final grades. Maybe a walk would clear her head. She shrugged into a sweater coat to block the chill in the air, and left her apartment.

      John Carlyle stepped into the hallway as Garnet pocketed her key. “Hello, Garnet. Going out? I’m taking Hoover for his nightly walk.”

      The rotund little terrier was so named because he inhaled any scrap of food that landed on the floor. Hoover loved people and had a particular fondness for Garnet, who gave him nutritious doggie treats. She felt in her pocket and came up with a couple of small lint-covered dog biscuits. “Mind if I tag along?” she asked.

      “We’d be pleased. Mr. Hoover thanks you for his treats. Is something wrong with your car? You don’t usually go walking.”

      After rubbing the wriggling animal’s backside, Garnet straightened and led the way to the stairs. “Sophie used to love going on walks, John. I tend to avoid the activities we did together.”

      “Understandable.”

      She heaved a sigh. “Not everyone agrees. I just spoke with the officer heading up my case. He’s adamant about me getting on with my life.” She stepped aside at the main door and let the courtly old gentleman open the door for her.

      “Oh. So that bright young fellow I met today—the new cop on your case—he didn’t find anything new?”

      Garnet stopped. “You saw him? I thought Anna Winkleman and Hazel Webber were the only ones home when he came by. Anna said you’d taken Hoover to the park. John, what did that man say? Did he give his name? You see, Sergeant Savage said there was no new cop on my case.”

      “Really?” Tugging back on Hoover’s leash, Mr. Carlyle stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I’m sure he told me his name. His badge certainly looked legit.” The old man’s face fell. “My hearing’s not what it used to be, Garnet. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch everything he said. His name was…Irish, maybe? Should I not have talked to him?”

      She walked on, shortening her stride to match his. “Truthfully, John, I suppose he’s a curiosity seeker at best and at worst, who knows? A con man, probably. In the morning I’ll give you a number you can call if he comes around again. Savage said they’d take him in and find out what he’s up to.” She paused while Hoover sniffed a hydrant.

      “I’ve always had a good radar for crooks. This fellow, whatever he is, he’s pretty convincing. I s’pose you’re teaching summer school again? I know you need the money and want to keep busy, but I hate seeing you so thin. You’re practically skin and bones.”

      Her low chuckle had a catch at the end. “Actually, I’m not teaching this summer. I don’t know what I’ll do, John. I do need to fill every hour of the day but I’m burning out emotionally. I won’t be any good to next year’s students unless I back off for awhile. I hear pulling fishnets is a physically demanding job. It might be the distraction I need. Maybe I’ll drive down to Ketchikan and see if I can sign on with a salmon vessel.”

      “Huh, I’d think twice about that. I spent a couple of summers during my college days on a crab boat. A stinkier, dirtier job only exists if you get stuck in one of the canneries. Darlene’s Café has a sign in the window for a waitress. I’m there at least once a week. Never been in the place that every seat isn’t taken. Wouldn’t pay what teaching does, or fishing, but it’d be a change of pace and safer than going to sea with a rough-and-tumble fishing crew.”

      “Thanks for the tip. I’ll consider it. Maybe I’ll go by this weekend and talk to Darlene. Teaching ends this week. The kids are out tomorrow, but we have three days to clean up.”

      John looked pleased that he could help. Then, as darkness fell and a misty drizzle started, they turned back, picking up their pace.

      Garnet studied the cars that passed, and she took a longer look at those parked near the apartment complex.

      John noticed. “You expecting a visitor tonight?”

      “No. It’s nothing. I’m sure this stranger doesn’t know anything. Yet it’s been ages since our law enforcement has received a tip no matter how slim, I guess I held out hope. Silly, I know.”

      Mr. Carlyle picked up his dog and opened the front door. “Not silly at all. So, for the next few days at least, if you want to walk after dark, call me. Not to scare you or anything.”

      She gave an involuntary shudder. “The teachers have planned an after-school happy hour tomorrow at the Silver Springs Lounge. I didn’t commit, but Jenny Hoffman—you know her—told me she met the stranger and invited him to join us for drinks.”

      John caught Garnet’s elbow. “Maybe you shouldn’t go. Whatever you do, don’t let him separate you from your friends. The lounge has a doorman. If you feel threatened, ask him to escort you to your car.”

      “This is dumb.” She tossed her head, as though shaking off her anxiety. “I’ll be fine. I really doubt anyone wanting to hurt me would show his face in such a public venue. Frankly, the guy probably got his kicks and is long gone. Good night, John. Thanks for caring. I’ll be fine.”

      ALL THE NEXT DAY, Garnet periodically glanced out her classroom window. At lunch, she sat on the front steps, all but daring the man in the Jeep to appear. No rust-red Jeep materialized any time that afternoon, either.

      The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day—and the year. Students streamed into Garnet’s room to say their final goodbyes. At four o’clock, Jenny stuck her head in the room.

      “What did you decide about happy hour? I’m riding with Wendy and Susan. You want to hitch? Wendy can drop you off back here to pick up your car.”

      “No, thanks. I’ll drive on my own. I have a couple of things to tidy up here. Order me a Cosmopolitan, will you?”

      “Oooh, you’re going whole hog. I think I’ll get one, too.”

      Twenty minutes later, Garnet scanned the street between the school and her car. Still no Jeep. Nor was one parked near the lounge. She got lucky and found a parking place right outside the front door.

      The last to arrive, Garnet slipped onto a stool Jenny had saved. The friends laughed, joked, toasted each other, and helped themselves to a variety of hors d’ oeuvres. A few teachers left, but Garnet had ordered a second drink when Jenny slid off her stool to leave with Wendy. “I’m seriously bummed,” she said. “The hottie’s a no-show. Come on, Garnet, we’ll walk you to your car.”

      Garnet waved them away. “I’m parked right next to the door. I’ll be fine, Jenny. Considering what I paid for this drink I’m not wasting a drop. I think I’ll find a booth and order some dinner. I’ll see you Monday. We need to talk about what we’re going to do over the summer break.” Standing, Garnet hugged all three friends. The trio walked out and Garnet signaled a waiter to request a booth. He carried her drink, put it down and said, “I’ll bring you a menu.”

      “No need. I’ll just have a chicken Caesar salad.”

      The waiter turned away. Garnet started to sit, but felt as if she were being watched. Not uncommon. The lounge was a popular hangout.

      A quick glance around the room, though, and she froze. A man who must’ve just entered was indeed staring at her. It was the stranger

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