Torey Hayden
Innocent Foxes
A novel
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
About the Author
Also by Torey Hayden
Credits
Copyright
Chapter One
Three days after Jamie Lee died, Dixie almost got run down by a movie star. It was a deep, warm-as-breath August evening and Dixie was walking down Seventh Street on her way back from getting a loaf of bread and a jar of mayonnaise at the Kwik-Way. She’d just crossed over at the corner by the United Methodist Church when the pick-up truck appeared, careering wildly down the middle of the road. Abruptly it swerved, mounted the kerb and came straight at her. Dixie screamed and ran for safety up the steps of the church. Brakes squealed and then there was a slithery hiss of rubber on grass before the final jarring crunch as the truck came to rest against a brick pillar at the base of the steps.
Three men were crammed into the cab of the pick-up and they all roared with laughter. In fact, they seemed to be laughing so hard that at first they found it hard to get the doors open. When the driver finally emerged, Dixie recognized him immediately. Spencer Scott.
‘You almost killed me!’ she shrieked, and burst into tears.
The door opened on the passenger side and the others spilled out. They were all canyon folk. They were all drunk too and seemed to find the idea of running her over hilarious.
Dixie couldn’t stop crying long enough to speak. It was their laughter that did it. That, and Jamie Lee and everything. She’d been coping pretty well over this last week, but this was just the last straw.
‘You aren’t hurt, are you?’ Spencer Scott managed to ask, when he’d finally caught his breath from laughing.
‘You near enough scared the life out of me, that’s what,’ Dixie sobbed.
He rooted in the pocket of his jeans and produced a red bandana handkerchief, the kind that tourists buy because they think it looks Western. He offered it to her.
What was she supposed to do with that? She was hardly going to get snot on a movie star’s handkerchief.
‘It’s clean,’ he said with an edge of annoyance.
Well, of course it was clean. Did he think she’d assume he would carry a dirty handkerchief? Oh dear Jesus, why did she have to be bawling in front of Spencer Scott, of all people?
Beyond him, the other two men were checking for damage to the pick-up. One climbed into the driver’s seat, backed it up a little, got out again and examined the dented grille.
Spencer Scott smiled. ‘I’m sorry we frightened you. No hard feelings?’
For the first time Dixie dared to lift her head enough to look at him properly. He was only an arm’s length away and she could see everything about him. He looked better in person than on the screen, if that was possible. Older and wrinklier, but Dixie liked that. His California-perfect features looked more manly when a bit of living showed. The only surprise was that he was so short. She’d heard that about him from other folks who’d been up close to him, but she still hadn’t expected she’d be taller.
‘Come on, Spence,’ one of the men called. ‘It’s OK. Nothing’s happened.’
He turned to go.
‘Hey!’ Dixie cried. ‘Something did too happen! You nearly hit me! And look at what you done to that pillar. You’re drunk. You shouldn’t be in a car. You can’t just drive off. We need to call the police.’
Spencer Scott smiled disarmingly, his handsome face focusing only on her. ‘We don’t need the police,’ he said chummily. ‘This isn’t anything really.’
‘It is to me! And it will be to the United Methodist Church too. They don’t got money to spend fixing what some drunk driver does,’ Dixie replied.
His eyes were just as blue as in the pictures and they twinkled when he smiled. ‘The police have more important matters
