this meeting to be boring. Why don’t you spice things up a little?”
Dixie herself wore a scarlet tank top that clung to every curve of her body. Her voluptuous body, Deidre amended. When they’d been kids together, and every other twelve-year-old girl had been straight as a board, Dixie had seemed to mature overnight into someone who’d befuddled the boys in their class and even drawn covert looks from a few male teachers.
Even though Dixie had returned after years away, divorced and apparently ready to start over, some things hadn’t changed. She still attracted males like a magnet. After all, single women their age were a rarity in Echo Falls.
“I’m representing the library board, remember? Besides, I don’t have the figure to wear something like that outfit.” She nodded to Dixie’s bright top and formfitting jeans.
Dixie tossed her hair back, laughing. “Sure you do. And I’d like to see the expressions on the old girls’ faces if you turned up in this.”
One thing about Dixie...she never apologized for anything she wore, said or did. It must be nice to feel that confident. Deidre never had, and she’d settled for an updated version of her mother’s style, typically small town, middle-class and designed not to raise a single eyebrow.
“I’m almost ready, and Kev is sleeping. I promised him you’d come in and kiss him good-night, but I didn’t promise you’d wake him up.” She retrieved her cell phone and tucked it into her bag.
“Okay, will do.” Dixie picked up the television remote but didn’t switch the set on, a sign she had something to say. “Did you see the new tenant next door yet?”
“Someone moved into the second-floor flat at last?” The old Moyer place had been converted into three apartments, with Dixie renting the top floor. “I hope they’re not going to be noisy.”
“Not they, he. Thirtyish, single and sexy. Just what we need in the neighborhood.”
Deidre gave her a look. “Had a long chat with him, did you?”
Dixie grinned. “We barely exchanged two words. But believe me, I didn’t need conversation to make up my mind about him. Lean, dark and tough-looking. He’s the brooding, dangerous type, and that suits me fine.”
She could only hope Dixie didn’t intend to launch herself headlong into a new romance. Her past was strewn with the guys she’d been convinced were the real thing. Needless to say, they hadn’t been.
“Who is this paragon? And what brings him to Echo Falls? Maybe you’d better be sure he’s going to hang around before you make a dead set at him.”
“That’s the thing.” For a moment Dixie looked uncertain, an unusual expression for her. “I hear he’s actually the new lawyer in your sainted father-in-law’s firm.” Dixie gave her a sidelong look. “You hadn’t heard?”
No, she hadn’t heard. Silly, to be bothered by the news that someone was taking Frank’s place. After all, it had been almost a year, and the firm was constantly busy.
“I knew they needed someone, but didn’t know they’d made a decision. Funny that the judge didn’t mention it when he was here today.”
She didn’t think her expression had changed at the mention of that visit, but Dixie knew her well.
“What’s he up to now?” She held up a hand to stop Deidre’s protest. “Don’t bother denying it. The judge is always up to something, isn’t he?”
Deidre shrugged. It would be a relief to vent to someone, and she and Dixie had been friends long enough for her to know Dixie was safe. “The same conversation we had before. I thought it was settled, but apparently not. He wants us to move in with him and Sylvia.” A chill slid down her spine at the thought.
Dixie abandoned her lounging posture on the sofa to sit bolt upright, anger flashing in her dark eyes. “You can’t be considering it. Move into that mausoleum? I’d rather be dead.”
“No, of course I’m not considering it. If I wouldn’t move in there when Frank was alive, I’m certainly not going to do it now. I couldn’t raise Kevin in that...” She couldn’t find a suitable word that was compatible with her sense of politeness.
“Mausoleum,” Dixie repeated. “Good. Don’t you even think of giving in to him.”
“I’m not,” she protested. “But you know what the judge is like.”
“He’s a boa constrictor.” Dixie spat out the words with more than her usual emphasis. “Get caught in his coils, and the next thing you know you’ll be digested, just like that poor wife of his.”
“Sylvia has other problems. I’m not sure her husband can do much for her.”
“He’s probably the one who drove her to alcohol to begin with,” Dixie muttered. “And you know how he treated Frank when he was growing up. You can’t let him get his hands on Kev.”
“I’m not going to.” She didn’t know when she’d seen Dixie so passionate. “All I have to do is keep saying no. He can’t force me. Honestly, Dixie, there’s no need to get so upset about it.”
“You’re too trusting, you know that? You think everyone’s as nice as you are. They’re not.”
Dixie’s reaction was fueling her own, and she had to look at this sensibly. “I’ve got to get going. Again, thanks so much for staying with Kev. And don’t worry about the judge. I’m not. Really.”
Deidre reminded herself of those brave words as she drove to the public library, just off the square in Echo Falls, and pulled into the parking lot behind the building. No worrying. Obsessing about Judge Morris’s plans wouldn’t do any good.
She shifted her focus firmly to the upcoming meeting. At least she wasn’t the first arrival. The lights were already on, a welcome given the fine mist that was forming.
She picked up the tote bag with the coffee and doughnuts and ducked through the mist to the back door, hurrying inside. In the flurry of greeting people and getting the refreshments ready, she managed to shove Judge Morris firmly to the back of her mind. Like Scarlett, she’d worry about that tomorrow.
The meeting was being held in what was normally a quiet reading area in front of the fireplace. Folding chairs had appeared to supplement the sofa and love seat donated by some library patron who’d probably been redecorating. Concentrating on refilling the doughnut tray, Deidre didn’t notice that someone was coming toward her until he spoke.
“Hard at work as always, I see.” Adam Bennett, the pastor of Grace Church, was mature enough to be aware of the status his collar gave him and young enough to be made a bit uncomfortable by it. He flushed now, as he often seemed to when he spoke to her.
“Not very,” she said, smiling. “Will you have a doughnut?”
“No, no, thank you.” He shied away as if his wife had lectured him about the dangers of fatty foods. “I wanted to introduce someone to you. Deidre, this is Jason Glassman, the new associate in Judge Morris’s office.”
For an instant Deidre could only stare at the man who’d come up behind Adam. Brooding and dangerous-looking indeed, as Dixie had said.
