she was ticked off.
He tilted the license to the light, then glanced in her direction. “Macy Douglas. You’re not from here, so what are you doing in Opal Lassiter’s house?”
“She was my grandmother.”
Sam stepped forward. “Let me see that.”
He took her license from Nick. “So, you’re Steve Douglas’s daughter. I heard you might be coming to town. How long are you here for?”
“I have no idea. Does it matter?” A gust of wind lashed the branches of the trees and whipped her long copper-colored hair into her eyes. She sent a quick glance overhead at the approaching storm.
He handed back the license. “I’m Sam Halston, chief of police in Walnut Grove.”
Nick glanced at him through narrowed eyes. So Sam was familiar with her name. And how had he heard she might be coming to town? It was time he took part in the conversation. “We’ve had a problem with attempted break-ins at this house recently. So far, whoever it was got scared off before getting in, and the neighborhood watch in this area is used to being on guard. They kept an eye on Opal while she lived here.”
“Are you saying someone reported me when I drove in? How did you get here so fast? I’d only been in the house for a few minutes before you showed up.”
He could hear the suspicion in her voice. Well, that worked both ways. He was a little suspicious himself and he hadn’t learned yet why she was in the house. “I’ve made a habit of driving by and keeping an eye on things, and it’s a small town. It doesn’t take long to get to any part of it. But none of this answers the most important question. Why are you here at this time of the night?”
She hesitated, and he waited, his eyes holding hers. Finally she sighed and started talking. “This house is a piece of my family history, and I was curious about it. I suppose I could have waited until morning, but I wanted to find it and see what it looked like.”
“You lived here when you were young,” Sam said. “You ought to have some memories of it.”
“I was seven years old when I left, and no, I don’t remember much.” She slid her license into her wallet and closed her purse, slinging it over her shoulder. “May I go now?”
“That depends,” Sam said, sounding reluctant. “Where are you going?”
“To a motel, I guess. If there’s one in town that still has lights.”
“There’s a good one on the highway, and the outage is just on this side of town. It’ll probably be off for several hours. Nick’ll show you how to find the motel, and I want to have a talk with you in the morning.”
Macy shook her head. “I have a nine o’clock appointment with Raleigh Benson, my grandmother’s lawyer.”
“Make it eight, then. Nick will give you directions.” He turned and walked away. A handful of raindrops splattered around them and Nick motioned toward her car.
“We’d better get. It’s going to start pouring in a few minutes. I’m parked just around the corner. Follow me, and I’ll show you the way to the motel.”
“First I have to lock the house.”
They hurried back to the porch and he waited while she climbed the steps, checked the light switch and locked the door before jogging over to their separate cars.
Nick walked around the corner to his car and drove back to the driveway, pulling in front of Macy to lead the way. He watched in his rearview mirror, making sure she followed him. She hadn’t been all that cooperative, and he wouldn’t put it past her to speed off in the other direction.
Of course, the way he’d surprised her might have something to do with how she’d acted. The minute he’d felt the softness of her shoulders, seen the glimmer of that long hair flashing across her face, he knew he’d messed up. Even in the pale glow of the streetlight, that copper-colored hair held a fire of its own. A man could warm his hands by it.
Since she was from out of town the possibilities of her being their mystery burglar were practically nonexistent. But why didn’t she remember living here? After all, she’d spent a few years in this house. She should remember something. But what was she doing here, alone, at this time of night? Her explanation had been lame, to put it mildly. And what was she doing inside the house?
Macy Douglas still had some explaining to do.
Macy followed him into the parking lot of a Motel 6, the windshield wipers slapping at a barrage of raindrops. Nick got out and hurried toward her car, shoulders hunched and head ducked against the wind. She rolled down the window and he stuck his head inside, the rain pelting his shoulders.
She stared at him, looking startled as their eyes met—and held. His heartbeat kicked up a notch. A reaction he hadn’t expected and definitely didn’t want. Macy leaned back as if trying to put a little distance between them. Maybe he needed to try that, too. Regardless of how lovely she was, he didn’t need any more complications in his life.
She seemed almost as surprised as he was. After a split-second hesitation, he said, “You’ll be all right here. I’ll drop by in the morning and show you the way to the police station. Be ready about seven thirty and we’ll pick up a bite to eat first. There’s a restaurant in town that puts out a good breakfast.”
“That will be fine, I guess,” she muttered.
He nodded and stepped back. “I’ll go with you to check in and get your room number.”
They hurried toward the office, Nick striding along with her. She probably didn’t want to check in with a policeman standing beside her. He could understand that. It wasn’t the best way to make a good impression.
The motel clerk eyed them curiously, but he assigned her a room and handed her a key. Nick lifted her suitcase out of the car. A curtain of rain danced on the pavement and bounced off the motel roof, soaking them both. She unlocked the door and turned to face him. Crystal raindrops glistened in her hair, and those sea-green eyes fringed with thick dark lashes seemed to warm for a moment.
She smiled suddenly and his heartbeat kicked up another notch. “Thank you for showing me the way to the motel. I’d probably still be driving around, lost in a strange town. Now you’d better get in out of the rain.”
He nodded and handed her a card. “You need anything, call me. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He noticed she watched him run back to his patrol car before going inside and locking the door.
Nick drove away from the motel thinking about Macy Douglas. The sudden flare of attraction he’d felt that moment in the motel parking lot had surprised him, but he couldn’t deny there had been a spark between them. The way she had stood up to him and to Sam, not giving an inch, was impressive. He’d give her one thing, she was a fighter. And she had the kind of beauty that would be hard for any man to resist.
He’d known her grandmother Lassiter, and everyone in town knew about the brutal murder of Opal’s daughter, Megan Douglas, and that Steve, Megan’s husband, had been convicted of killing her and had died in prison. It was part of the town’s history. A part most of them would just as soon forget.
He
