spinach pie.”
“But I told you this meeting was business. I told you—”
Ron cut in. “Oh, come on, Liz. Maybe the man is hungry. Sit down, Alex, it’s good to see you again.” Gesturing to his left, he added, “Let me introduce you to my sister, Emily Watts. I think she moved to town after…well, you know.”
Alex nodded in Emily’s direction as he took off his own jacket, a soft brown leather one that Liz had bought him for his birthday in January. She loved the way it looked on him, loved the feel of it against her cheek when he held her. She had the sudden and overwhelming desire for him to do just that, to hold her, to take her away.
He pulled out the fourth chair. “That looks good,” he said, looking at Liz’s spinach pie.
She pushed the plate toward him.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“Not really.”
Alex took a bite and smiled. “Delicious.”
“It must beat jail food,” Emily sputtered.
The table grew very still.
“You have to excuse my sister,” Ron said. “She tends to be a little cautious where Liz in concerned. Alex, it’s good to see you. I trust there’s an explanation. I have to admit I’m dying to hear it.”
“I have to warn you,” Emily sputtered, “I won’t stand by and watch a confessed murderer harass Liz. She’s in no condition—”
“She’s pregnant with my child,” Alex said, his eyes blazing, his voice no longer teasing. “She’s my wife. I know what condition she’s in.”
Ron glanced at his sister. “Calm down. Give the man a chance.”
Liz was secretly thrilled to hear Alex leap to his own defense. As someone who had spent far too many years swallowing her emotions in deference to her uncle’s tyranny, she’d always admired the way Alex stood up for himself. He was a man of action. Giving up control and taking the blame for a murder he hadn’t committed must be galling.
“Things aren’t always as they seem, Emily,” Liz said gently. She looked back at Alex and added, “But they’re my friends, Alex. I trust them. Please, swear them to secrecy and tell them what’s going on.”
She could almost see the wheels turn in Alex’s handsome head. “If it means that much to you,” he finally said.
“It means that much,” she told him, and then excused herself. She knew if she stayed at the table, she’d be inclined to blurt out every detail, and this was Alex’s situation to control. She unhooked her coat from the rack on the way out, nodding at people she knew, but desperate for an infusion of fresh air.
Pulling her coat close around her, she stood beneath the gaily striped green-and-white awning and took deep gulps of air suffused with the pungent smells of the sea. Her frayed nerves and restless stomach slowly began to relax.
This old part of the city hadn’t been affected much by her uncle’s mall. Gift stores, restaurants and galleries still thrived when the tourists came to town during the summer and now, for the holidays, twinkling lights and garlands of fake greenery gave every storefront a jaunty air. A few blocks east, however, the shopping mall had exacted a huge toll. All these years later, there were still empty buildings. It was hard for a Ma and Pa bicycle shop to compete with any of the huge chain stores.
She sighed deeply. She’d give Alex a few moments to tell Ron and Emily as much as he thought wise, then return.
Looking up the street toward the new library, she instantly spotted the sheriff’s car parked half a block up on the other side. She searched the opposite sidewalk. There he was, Sheriff Roger Kapp, standing not a hundred feet away from her, talking to one of his deputies.
Liz felt the instant urge to retreat. Should she go back inside the restaurant? Would Kapp see her if she moved and then would he follow? Did it matter? Alex wasn’t an escaped felon. But the thought of a scene in front of Emily and Ron wasn’t pleasant. Indecision caught her like a mouse under Sinbad’s paw. Naturally, because she didn’t want him to, the sheriff looked up and locked gazes with her.
She tried a smile and a nonchalant wave.
He pointed at her.
There was nothing to do but stand there and wait while he sprinted across the street.
The sheriff was a powerfully built middle-aged man with sandy hair just beginning to gray at the temples and a drill sergeant gaze Liz felt sure intimidated the innocent as well as the guilty. He wore his uniform like a second skin. In deference to the drizzly chill, he also wore a padded jacket.
Over the years, he’d been a frequent visitor at her uncle’s Victorian estate. It was well known that Devon Hiller’s campaign support had helped win Roger Kapp the last sheriff’s election a few years back. She wondered how Kapp would fare in the upcoming election without her uncle’s backing.
Kapp stopped a few feet away, his gaze traveling her figure. In her white maternity sweater and slacks, wearing the heavy black coat, she felt like a beached Orca whale under his careful scrutiny.
“Elizabeth,” he said, tipping his hat.
“Sheriff.”
“Looks like it’s about time for that baby to pop.”
She said, “A few more weeks.”
“How’s everything going for you?”
“Pretty good,” she said, wondering if his question was more complicated than it sounded.
“You know, I was noticing the last time I was at your place that you don’t have a decent lock on your front door. I know you have that squawking Siamese cat to warn you when strangers come around, but that cat isn’t a Rottweiler, he can’t really protect you.”
“No, he’d just purr a robber to death.”
“Reason I got to thinking about it all of a sudden is that your hubby made bail. I suppose you know about that damn jury.”
She diplomatically decided not to mention the fact that she also knew the mishandling of the original investigation by the sheriff’s office had contributed to the jury’s indecision. His insinuation that she needed a lock to keep Alex away was offensive, but for now she decided to let it slide. She said, “Yes, isn’t that wonderful news?”
A frown drew his brows together and when he changed position, she was aware of the creaking sound of his leather holster. “I guess that depends on your point of view.”
“I just have a feeling that everything is going to work out great.”
“It almost did,” he persisted.
Resisting the urge to turn around to make sure Alex wasn’t on his way out the door, she added, “Is there something I can do for you, Sheriff?”
“Just a friendly word for an old friend’s niece,” he said, his gaze never leaving her face. “Alex Chase is rotten through to the
