grunted. “Do you even remember last night?”
“Most of it. Okay. Parts of it.”
Another long stretch of silence.
Kylie bristled. So, she’d had too much to drink. So, she’d gotten a little loud, given away her shoes and taken a spill in Boone’s. It wasn’t like Faye to be so easily embarrassed. “Aren’t you going to ask me about Jack?” Kylie blurted, because normally that’s exactly what her friend would do. Faye knew all about Kylie’s longtime infatuation, although she didn’t know about the never-to-be-mentioned-ever episode. “He gave me a birthday kiss. Actually, I stole a kiss. He just sort of sat there. Disappointing.”
“You expected Jack to take advantage of you?”
“I expected fireworks.”
“You always expect fireworks,” Faye said. “And you’re always disappointed.”
“Yes, but this was Jack. It’s supposed to be different with him.”
“It’s supposed to be different with someone who sets your soul on fire. I thought you were over Jack.”
“I am.”
“Are you sure about that? For someone who’s having a hard time remembering parts of last night, you have a damn clear recollection of that kiss.”
“You are mad at me.” Kylie padded to her medicine cabinet and nabbed a bottle of aspirin. Between the hangover and Faye’s snippy mood, she felt queasy. To make matters worse, Stan shouted something in the background and Faye shouted back. Okay. So maybe she’d just caught her friend at a bad time. “Are you guys fighting about Sting and the ice cream fiasco?”
“Not exactly.” Faye blew out a breath and lowered her voice. “Just do me a favor, Kylie. Don’t drink any more cosmopolitans.”
“Trust me, it’s not on the agenda.” Stomach rolling, Kylie popped an antacid along with the aspirin.
“So what instigated that birthday meltdown, anyway?”
A change of subject and a softer tone. Sort of. She’d take it. “Spenser.”
“Let me guess,” Faye said. “He extended his shooting tour. Which means you have to postpone your trip. Again.”
So far Kylie had missed out on two opportunities to travel the Orient. Both times due to a family crisis. The latter had wiped out her bank account. Now, after years of living frugally and saving (again), she finally (almost) had enough money to fund her dream trip. Problem was, Spenser’s change of plans put a glitch in her plans. “Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.”
Faye snorted. “Maybe you should tell Spenser why you need him to come home and to take responsibility for the business he inherited.”
“I don’t want to step on his dream. Into the Wild is a huge hit. He’s in his fifth season and the ratings are consistently high.”
“What about your dream?”
Kylie faltered. Her gut said she needed to attack the here and now. The real world. Her world. “If I went to Asia now,” she said sensibly, “I’d still have to deal with my dull existence when I got back.”
“Meaning?”
Kylie shoved on her glasses, glanced at the shoe-order confirmation and the paint samples she’d printed off the Internet. She smiled. “Meet me at the hardware store in two hours.”
CHAPTER FIVE
JACK STEERED HIS SUV into the chief of police’s designated parking space. He glanced at the black-and-white parked to his left—one of two department cruisers. Chief Curtis had used his own wheels. Jack opted to do the same. Small towns have small budgets. Police vehicles were costly. Better to allocate funds to staffing, programming and equipment. Besides, driving an unmarked vehicle suited his purpose as did his semicasual uniform.
He cut the engine, looked at Shy over the metal rims of his polarized Oakleys. Instead of the backseat where he’d put her, she now sat on the passenger seat. Slobber streaked the partially open window. Short blond hairs coated his black dashboard. His new car didn’t look so new anymore. Didn’t smell new, either. Was there such a thing as dog Beano?
“So is this because of the canned kibble?” Jack asked, waving off the noxious odor. “Or because you’re nervous?”
Shy barked.
“Uh-huh.”
Maybe a trip to the vet was in order. Not that he planned on keeping her. But as long as Shy was in his care, he didn’t want her stinking up his air.
“Okay. Listen up. The squad’s still mourning Curtis. They’re not sold on me. I have no idea how they feel about dogs.”
Shy angled her head, whimpered.
“Relax. I’m not locking you in the car for eight hours. Just…behave. No chewing. No peeing. No farting.”
Her tail wagged.
“You don’t understand a word I’m saying, do you?”
She barked again.
“Right.” He climbed out and jerked a thumb. “Let’s roll.”
Shy leaped to the sidewalk. He half expected, half hoped she’d run. Run home. Run off. Anything to relieve him of this newfound responsibility.
She sat by his side.
Great.
New job. New life. New, and unwanted, complication.
In an effort to root himself, he scanned Main Street and assessed the area. No skyscrapers. No public transportation. No street vendors or homeless beggers. Just a scenic grid of two-story buildings, antique street lamps, and meter-free curbside parking.
Eden, Indiana.
Smalltown, U.S.A.
Four eateries: Pizza King, The Box Car, Boone’s Bar and Grill and Kerri’s Confections.
One grocery store. One hardware store. One barbershop, beauty salon, car dealership, car wash, Realtor, dollar store, library, shoe store and pharmacy/sundry. One convenience store—Circle K. One department store—Kmart. Two churches—both Protestant. Two gas stations and one bank. Two dentists. Two doctors. Two lawyers—one of those being his brother-in-law, Frank Cortez, or as Jack called him: the Cheating Bastard.
Jack shook off the thought of the man who made him see red. His numbness did not extend to TCB. He breathed in the crisp autumn air and a heady dose of Americana.
Considering where he’d spent the past several years, he felt as if he’d traveled back in time. Kylie was right. Eden hadn’t changed in decades. The storefronts looked exactly as they had when he’d been a kid. J.J.’s place still had a soda fountain. A red-and-white-striped barber pole spun outside Keystone’s and the Bixley still showed feature films at bargain prices.
Unlike
