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Still Waters
Still Waters
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Still Waters

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“That’s the plan.”

Jake nodded, his face set in an expression Tiffany couldn’t read. “Good luck. Now, I’d better get the Bishops back home.”

“All right. Goodbye.”

“Bye.” As quickly as he had come, Jake was gone and the yard fell into silence once again.

Letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, Tiffany turned back to the fence. Jake seemed concerned about Tom working for her, though she had to give him credit for not saying as much. She couldn’t help wondering if Brian would be as willing to hold his tongue.

Shrugging away the worry, she went back to work on the fence, smiling as Bandit slipped out of his hiding place and plopped down on her feet. There were white splotches of paint on his midnight coat, and Tiffany wondered how difficult it would be to wrestle him into a bath. Probably very difficult.

Oh, well, he looked rather cute with white polka dots.

She reached into the pocket of her shorts and pulled out an animal cracker, then dropped it down onto the ground in front of Bandit. He inhaled it and looked up for more, the expression in his eyes so soulful, Tiffany had to laugh. “Getting a bit spoiled already, are you? That’s okay, I’m enjoying your company so you deserve a treat.”

She dropped a few more animal crackers down. “Hey, maybe Brian will stop by later. Add a little life to our paint party. What do you think?”

The dog woofed a response before dropping his head across Tiffany’s feet. She stepped to the side and lifted her paintbrush, smoothing another coat over the picket. “You know, I think I’m going to like having a dog. Talking to you is so much better than talking to myself.”

A soft snore was Bandit’s only response.

“So Tiffany offered Tom Bishop a job and you don’t approve.” Ben Avery’s words were muffled, his face half-hidden by the lid of the tackle box he was searching through.

Jake waited until his friend was upright in the bow of the boat before responding. “It’s not that I don’t approve. I’m just surprised. Tom’s been in and out of trouble for years. I’d think Ms. Anderson would want to keep her distance. That would be the wise thing to do.”

Ben chuckled as he pulled his fishing line out of the water and rebaited the hook. “Tiffany isn’t known for making choices based on the world’s wisdom. She makes them based on her heart.”

“Yeah. I’m getting that impression. Maybe someone should talk to her.”

“About what? About caring? About giving a chance to a kid who isn’t going to get one from anyone else?”

“Chances are for people who earn them. Not for smart-alecky kids with chips on their shoulders.”

“Everyone deserves a chance, Jake. You know that.”

Jake sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. I know. Unfortunately, experience has taught me that most kids like Tom don’t respond well to second, third and fourth chances.”

“But some do.”

“The minority.”

“That minority would be lost if not for people like Tiffany.”

“And Will. Look what happened to him.” Jake knew he sounded bitter. He was bitter. William Banks had been his partner for ten years. His best friend for just as long.

“He was a police officer. His situation was completely different than Tiffany’s.”

“Not so different.” Jake cast his own fishing line, forcing his emotions down before he continued speaking. “Will was murdered by a kid he’d been mentoring for a year.”

“I didn’t realize that.”

Jake shrugged and gazed out over the still water of the lake. “He devoted his life to kids like Tom. Volunteered at the community center when he had time. Tried to set an example of what a man should be. The thanks he got was a bullet to the chest.”

“And you think the same thing is going to happen to Tiffany?”

“Who knows? I just hope she understands what she’s getting herself into. All the affection, help and chances in the world can’t change a kid who doesn’t want to be changed.”

“She’s doing what she thinks is right. Living by the second greatest commandment—love your neighbor as yourself.”

“I guess I can’t argue with that.”

“You can’t argue with anything I say. I’m your pastor.”

Jake shook his head and scooped up a handful of water, sending it flying toward his fishing companion. “Yeah, well, I’m your sheriff. So watch yourself.”

Ben just smirked and leaned back against the vinyl seat. “Don’t make me sic the ladies’ auxiliary on you.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“No? Don’t bet on it, friend.”

And Jake wouldn’t. He knew Ben Avery to be as tenacious as a bull terrier, and twice as wily. Seven months ago Ben had spotted Jake amidst his congregation. From that moment on, his mission had been to befriend the town’s new sheriff. Evening visits, phone calls—Ben had slowly but surely infiltrated his way into Jake’s solitary existence.

Something Jake would be eternally grateful for.

He sighed and rebaited the hook on his line. The gentle swell and sway of water rocked the boat’s hull, the lulling movements helping to ease away some of Jake’s tension. Gold-and-pink clouds dotted the horizon, the sunset slowly fading their color to silver and gray. Around the boat tiny insects buzzed in clouds of annoying energy, and every few minutes a fish or frog splashed its presence.

Jake enjoyed it all—the hum of life, the slow drifting pace of the day. Though his week’s vacation had started off rocky, it had improved as the day wore on.

Had Tiffany’s day gotten better? Was she still painting the white picket fence? Or was she off somewhere, offering friendship to another lonely soul? Maybe rescuing more hapless creatures? If so, who would rescue her? Certainly not her boyfriend. Dr. Brian. The man sounded like a loser.

“So, who’s Dr. Brian?” The question was out before Jake knew he was going to ask it.

The speculative gleam in Ben’s eyes made him wish he hadn’t. “Interesting.”

“Dr. Brian?”

“No. You. We’ve been out here for an hour and in that time we’ve discussed Tiffany Anderson saving a dog, Tiffany Anderson offering a job to a kid, and now you want to discuss Tiffany Anderson’s boyfriend.”

“I don’t want to discuss him. Doris mentioned the name this morning and I wondered who he was.”

“Dr. Brian McMath is a family practitioner. Good doctor.”

“That’s it?”

“And he’s Tiffany Anderson’s boyfriend.”

“Not a very good one.” Jake wanted to pull the words back but it was too late. Ben’s gaze settled on him once again.

“According to who?”

“According to me. He was supposed to meet Tiffany at Becky’s. By the time we got there he’d gone to prayer meeting and left her to find her own way home.”

“I guess Brian has his priorities.”

“Shouldn’t Tiffany be one?”

“That’s for Tiffany to decide.”

Jake bit back a comment that wasn’t fit to be spoken and forced himself to let the topic go. “True. And it’s not my business, anyway.”

“No?”

Jake was saved from responding by the beep of his pager. He checked the number and shook his head. “Looks like there’s more trouble. I’m going to have to call it a day.”

“I thought this was your vacation.” Ben reeled in his line, and started the boat’s motor.

“It is, but I told dispatch to keep me informed. There’s been too much petty crime this summer, and I’ve got a feeling things are going to escalate.”

“So what’s happened this time?”

“Some windows smashed at the middle school. I want to go interview the neighbors. See if anyone saw anything.”

“Any hope of that?” Ben spoke as he maneuvered the boat into the dock.

“Not much. Whoever’s causing the trouble is being careful not to get caught. That won’t last for long, though. Sooner or later he’ll get cocky and make a mistake. Then I’ll slap him with every punishment available under the law.”

“Sounds harsh, Jake. This is Small Town, U.S.A. Not the big city. People here will expect you to be lenient. Especially if it’s kids involved.”

“Not kids. A gang. I’ve dealt with enough to know the signs.”

“Still—”

Jake held up his hand, forestalling the words. “Like I said before, giving kids second chances just gives them the opportunity to commit more crimes. I won’t do that. No matter what people here expect.”

“Understood, friend. So let’s get moving. We don’t want to miss all the excitement.”

“We?”

“Sure, what better way to get people to tell the truth than to have a pastor along? Besides, we rode here together, remember?”

Jake hesitated. In D.C., he wouldn’t have considered taking a civilian along on a police matter, but here in Lakeview things were different. That was one of the reasons he’d taken the job as sheriff. One of them. “All right. Let’s go.”

Chapter Four

Tiffany rubbed at the tension in her neck and tried to ignore the loud conversation going on in the living room. Brian and his parents were discussing Lakeview’s summer crime wave. Though she was as interested in the welfare of the community as anybody, Tiffany figured five play-by-play descriptions of the broken windows at the middle school, the sheriff’s quick response to the crime scene, the dusting for fingerprints and the interviewing of witnesses was overkill. She shook her head at her own irritation and vowed to try to be a more pleasant hostess.

Or maybe she’d just keep hiding in the kitchen until the McMaths left.

The fact was, Tiffany needed a break from her Sunday afternoon routine. If the aches in her arms and legs hadn’t told her that, the image reflected in the gleaming surface of the toaster she was cleaning would have. Deep lavender smudges shadowed the area under her eyes. Dull, reddish curls escaped the confines of the chignon she’d scraped her hair into that morning. And her skin, pale on the best of days, looked like the underside of a toad—greenish-white with a shiny glow. She had spent most of the night tossing and turning and it showed.

Turning away from her reflection, Tiffany used a damp cloth to wipe the counter. Then, with quick, efficient movements, she unplugged the coffeepot, placed the last mug in the cupboard, and turned to inspect the kitchen. Every surface gleamed, including the floor which Tiffany had scrubbed within an inch of its old-linoleum life. A haphazard housekeeper, Tiffany accepted her cleaning frenzy for what it had been—avoidance.

Cleaning the kitchen had been a good excuse for escaping the living room and Brian’s parents. Though the McMaths had always been kind to Tiffany and she enjoyed their company, somehow their presence at lunch every Sunday afternoon had become a habit. A habit only Tiffany seemed to be getting tired of.

Worse, she couldn’t remember the last time she and Brian had spent any time alone together and that, along with a whole list of niggling worries, had kept Tiffany from sleeping. Now she was tired, frustrated and annoyed. She needed some time to herself. Time to think about Brian and their relationship. Or lack of one. What she did not need was a three-hour discussion on Sheriff Reed and his dedication to his job.

The loud conversation quieted, and floorboards creaked. A moment later, the McMaths called their goodbyes and Tiffany responded in kind, glancing out from the kitchen and waving, before retreating to her spot beside the kitchen sink.

Brian stepped into the room, a smile on his face and questions in his eyes. “Lunch was great. As usual. Thanks.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Did you put the leftovers out on the porch for Bandit?”

“Yes, but I still don’t think it’s a good idea for a dog to eat table food. You’ll spoil him.”

“I don’t think a dog can be spoiled.”

Brian shrugged in response, the silence in the room stretching out as he surveyed the clean floor and gleaming counters. “You were being a Martha today.”

“What do you mean?”

“A Martha…you know, busy cleaning instead of talking to your guests.”

Tiffany felt her cheeks redden at the veiled criticism and bit back an angry retort. Taking a deep breath, she tried to steer their conversation back to safer ground. “Your parents didn’t seem to mind. And your mom came in to chat with me for a while. She’s really enjoying that quilting class she’s taking.”

“Yeah, and I guess she’s pretty good at it. She said one of the quilts is going to be on display at a regional folk art show. Maybe I can get some time off and we can go see it.”

Tiffany didn’t respond. Instead she reached for a teacup, filled it with water, and placed it in the microwave.

“Is that decaf?”

Startled by the question, Tiffany glanced down at the tea bag she’d taken from the cupboard. “I don’t know. I think so.”

“If you’re not sure, you probably shouldn’t drink it. Caffeine can increase appetite. You’re doing so well on your diet. I’d hate for you to blow it.”

“I think I’ll be fine.” Jerking open the microwave, Tiffany dropped the tea bag into the heated water, turning her back to Brian in the process. The last thing she wanted was a lecture about healthy eating.

“Tiff, something’s bothering you. Why don’t you tell me what it is?”

Tiffany shrugged and turned to face the man she had pinned so many dreams on. “I’m upset about what happened yesterday, Brian. I’m afraid of what it says about us.”

Brian’s brow furrowed, a puzzled expression replacing his concern. “I apologized for leaving you at the diner.”

Tiffany met Brian’s gaze, then looked down into her teacup, watching the water turn brown as she tried to think of words that would express her concern as well as her disappointment. “Yes, you did but that doesn’t change what happened.”

“Okay, I thought we’d settled this last night but I guess we didn’t.” Brian ran a hand through his hair. Tiffany was sure he glanced at his watch while he was at it. “Why don’t we go in the living room and figure out what’s going on here?”

“Fine.” Tiffany led the way down the hall and into the large room she used for company. Two overstuffed chairs and a love seat created a cozy U around the room’s fireplace. Tiffany dropped onto the love seat and took a sip of her tea as Brian made himself comfortable in one of the chairs.