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Matt flicked his thumb across the stack of divorce papers as anger simmered low and hot. “And what’s that?”
“That I’m a drag on the department.” Ozzy flinched as if speaking the words out loud hurt. “Word is he’s planning on instituting physical fitness requirements for all of us in the department. Like what they do over in Durante.”
“I bet Luke will have a thing or two to say about that.” When Ozzy didn’t respond, Matt prodded deeper. “Is that what all this diet stuff’s been about, Oz? You worried about keeping your job?”
“No.”
“Oz.” Matt used the same tone with the younger deputy that he had with new recruits. Granted, Ozzy wasn’t about to walk into a war zone, but sometimes the same medicine worked on different ailments. “What’s going on?”
Oz shook his head. “It’s not a big deal, Matt. You know how Gil is.”
“Yes, I do.” One of the reasons Matt wasn’t overly fond of their mayor. If it wasn’t for Ozzy’s tech know-how and efficient computer skills, they’d still be typing on Selectric typewriters and stuffing the wooden filing cabinets to the point of overflowing. “I’ll tell you something right now, Oz. If you’re looking to lose weight to appease anyone other than yourself, it won’t work in the long run. Short term, maybe.”
“I know. At least I’m feeling better.” Oz shrugged in that casual way he had of trying not to call attention to himself. “And I’m up to a mile-and-a-half run in the mornings. Well, I can do that much without wanting to puke. Mostly.” He looked at the carrot in his hand. “I’m getting really sick of these things, though.”
Personally, Matt was surprised the deputy hadn’t turned orange. “Don’t let anyone else determine how you live your life, Oz. You want to lose weight, you do it for yourself. Not because some jerk like Gil Hamilton’s bullied you into it.”
“Word,” Jasper muttered.
“I hear you.” Ozzy nodded. “And I know you’re right. Anytime I think about quitting, I remember that day Charlie got trapped in the caves down at the beach. I should have been able to help Fletcher more than I did. They both could have drowned.”
It wasn’t the first time Ozzy had made mention of the near-catastrophic event. There also wasn’t any mistaking the hint of self-loathing and disappointment that came with letting the people you care about down; or worse, believing you had. That day had been rough on all of them; the idea that eight-year-old Charlie might never have made it out of those caves if it hadn’t been for her now stepfather’s actions and the support of most of the town still made his gut clench.
“No one believes you let anyone down.” Matt chose his words carefully. “Not Luke, not Fletcher and not me, who by the way, took three times as long getting down the beach as you did.” He slapped his hand against his prosthesis. “If we don’t blame you, there’s no reason to blame yourself.”
“Yeah, well.” Ozzy shook off Matt’s attempt to placate him and returned his bag of carrots to the mini fridge under the coffee station. “I’m not going to let anything like that happen again. I want Luke to know he can count on me for whatever might happen. That all of you can. And if the mayor does institute physical tests, I’ll be ready for them.”
“As long as you’re doing it for yourself, too.”
“Funny how times change.” Ozzy looked genuinely surprised. “You know, back in high school, word got around my mother had put me on a diet. Some of the guys on the football team loaded my locker with those cream-filled sponge cakes. Ruined my first edition copy of Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.”
There was little Matt loathed more than bullies. “Any of those jerks carry a gun and get a patrol car with spinning flashing lights?”
Ozzy grinned. “Nope.”
“Then you win. Speaking of winning.” Matt gestured to the clock on the wall. “Patrol started five minutes ago.”
“Oh! Geez.” Ozzy spun around, checked his belt for his weapon and phone, dived for his jacket and stumbled to the door. “Thanks, Matt. I’ll see you later. Oh.” He poked his head back in the office. “If you want something to look forward to tonight, Abby told me Lori is going to be representing the Flutterby Inn at the town meeting. You know, in case you want to say hi or something.”
Matt wadded up a piece of paper, chucked it at him and yelled, “Be grateful I don’t have a Twinkie!”
But Ozzy had made his point. Just the mention of Lori was enough to take the sting out of Matt’s obligation for tonight. There was something about just laying eyes on Lori that made his day better. He’d been careful with her, slowly building up their casual friendship despite his desire for more. Lunch. Coffee. A couple of small town events. He couldn’t let himself get too interested, too tempted, as long as he was still officially married, and the truth was, he was both—interested and tempted. He enjoyed the time he spent with her, felt the dormant fire inside of him light up when she looked at him, smiled at him. Laughed at his stupid jokes. It took a special woman to get his sense of humor. Which was why, in the last few weeks, since soon after Holly and Luke’s wedding, he’d been avoiding her.
Matt Knight was all about doing right by people. Especially those he cared about. But there wasn’t any moving forward, not with his life, not with Lori, as long as he was still anchored to the past.
The phone rang. Before Matt could reach for the receiver, Jasper answered. “It’s for you, Matt. A Chris Walters?”
“That’s Kyle’s caseworker,” Matt said as he picked up his extension. “Chris? Kyle okay?”
“Doing well, actually.” The social worker’s encouraging words belied the tension in his voice. “We’re still on track for an early release. For now at least.”
“What’s that mean?” Matt squeezed the receiver so hard his fingers tingled. “What’s going on?”
“The judge in charge of Kyle’s case is retiring. His replacement is reviewing all the cases ahead of time and, well, since we’re jumping beyond fosterage to adoption, she has some concerns about your living situation.”
“What’s wrong with my living situation?” Matt asked. “I’ve got a room ready for him, he’ll have a part-time job with the sheriff’s department, and most importantly he’ll have more stability than he’s known in years.”
“I’m on your side, remember? You don’t have to convince me. She’s not denying your petition, Matt, but she has suggested a female influence in the house wouldn’t be a bad thing for Kyle. And given your marital status...”
“That’s about to be resolved.” Matt looked down at the papers on his desk. “I filed the divorce papers and am getting ready to sign them as we speak.”
“Okay. We’ll have to see how that plays with the judge.”
“Given Kyle’s last female influence was too hopped-up on prescription meds to give him a second thought, I wouldn’t think this would be any judge’s first concern.” Matt hated to speak ill of Kyle’s mother, but the truth was the truth.
“It’s a concern, Matt. And the judge only suggested it would be in your and Kyle’s best interest if there was someone in your life to help bring a bit of balance. Even if it’s just a girlfriend, which brings me to what we talked about before. She’s going to want to call Lori as a character witness.”
“Lori? How does she know about Lori?” The last time his heart had pounded this hard he’d been dodging bullets.
“Because I listed her in my report. You said you were dating her, that you thought it was getting serious. Are you telling me something’s changed?”
Changed? Other than Matt all but ignoring her the last few weeks while he got his head on straight and cleared the emotional deck? “No, nothing’s changed,” Matt blurted before his brain could catch up with the panic seizing his chest. He’d made a promise to Kyle, and Matt Knight never made a promise he couldn’t keep. “We’ve been seeing each other for a while, off and on.” Most recently off. All the more reason to remedy that. “She’s completely on board with me taking Kyle in.”
“So you’re okay with her listed as a character witness? She’ll back up your statement should the judge want to call her in during Kyle’s hearing?”
“Yeah, of course.” Matt swallowed the lie. Well, it wasn’t a lie exactly. Lori did know about Kyle but Matt’s current relationship with her might be a bit, well, up in the air. “Have they set a date yet for the hearing?”
“Um, yeah. Hang on, I’ve got that right...” The sound of shuffling papers scraped against Matt’s ear. “Three weeks from Monday. Looks like the judge has us penciled in for two in the afternoon.”
Matt scribbled the date on his calendar, noting that was the same day as the big welcome dinner that opened the Butterfly Festival. That would take some juggling given it was all hands on deck in town for the department. “I’ll be there.” Somehow. “I thought I’d come up and see him in a couple of weeks. Need to figure out my days off.”
“You’re on the visitor’s list for anytime,” Chris said. “I’m glad you told me about Lori. This will go a long way with this judge in approving Kyle’s placement.”
“I hope so.” With Kyle’s troubled past, the only other placement option for him would be a group foster home or to extend his stint in the detention center he currently resided in. “Let me know if there are any more changes.”
“You got it.”
Matt hung up. Why was it, even when he had the best of intentions, he ended up messing things up? At least now he had even more of a reason to apologize to Lori. As much as he wanted her back in his life, he needed her. Kyle needed her. Unease settled in his gut like a stone. He hated lying. To anyone. But especially to Lori Bradley.
“Everything okay?” Jasper asked. “Is Kyle still getting out?”
“He sure is.” He picked up his pen, clicked it open and scratched his name.
A few seconds later, he set the sealed envelope on the counter, where it would go out in the afternoon mail.
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_c5d51a95-2859-57d0-b17b-4a15cec35d2f)
“LORI, THANK GOODNESS!”
Lori Bradley glanced up from behind the registration desk at the Flutterby Inn as BethAnn Bottomley swooped in like a redheaded designer bird of prey. A Butterfly Harbor native who had returned home after the death of her senator husband, BethAnn was one of those people you crossed the street to avoid. Somewhere north of fifty, she had the uncanny talent of turning any compliment into an insult. Today’s campaign-worthy suit was the color of summer cherries. The look in her eyes? Seek and destroy.
“You have got to help me!” BethAnn dropped a stack of boxes on top of the registration desk and draped herself over them in exhaustion. “Esther Kravatz’s arthritis is acting up and she totally forgot about these invitations. If I don’t find someone reliable to send them out, the entire welcome dinner could fall apart! I’m so glad you’re on the committee.”
Esther Kravatz’s arthritis had been flaring up a lot since BethAnn had returned to Butterfly Harbor after more than a decade away. In the past, the welcome dinner had always been a casual affair, certainly nothing like the big to-do BethAnn had in mind.
“Actually, I’m not on the...” Lori trailed off as she stood, pulled to her feet by the breathy desperation in BethAnn’s voice. A sinking sensation swept over Lori as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and brushed a self-conscious hand down the front of her blue-and-white-striped maxi dress. “How many are there?” Lori’s chest tightened as she did a quick mental count.
“Five, six hundred, give or take. We’re not expecting that many to show up, of course, but they might be up for donations to our charity gift baskets. You can take care of it, right? I’d do it myself, but I’m just so busy getting sponsors and making delivery arrangements. It shouldn’t take too long. Just have a glass of wine, pop some corn and get to stuffing.”
Lori’s smile stretched almost as wide as her patience. Some things never changed. People rarely said no to her, if only to get BethAnn off their backs.
“No one else on the committee can help? What about taking them to the youth center and asking the kids...”
“Oh, well, we can’t trust children with something this important, can we?” BethAnn waved that dismissive hand of hers in the air. “And as far as the committee, apparently not everyone’s taking this kickoff event as seriously as I am. It’s vital we make a good show of things if we’re going to draw a higher level of clientele.”
Lori bit the inside of her cheek. Higher level of clientele was BethAnn code for her rich “friends.”
“We’ve already got multiple television stations coming,” BethAnn went on. “Which means we’re going to be front and center. And then I remembered you and how you’ve always been tip-top when it comes to responsibility and volunteering. I have to tell you, Lori.” She pressed manicured fingers against her chest and tapped where most people possessed a heart. “While I was honored you all elected me to lead the charge on this event, I had no idea how much work would be involved! Thank goodness for all my worker bees.”
Elected? Lori pressed her lips into a hard line. More like the committee had been too intimidated to argue when BethAnn announced her intention to take over the event. Lori sighed. Most of the “work” BethAnn referred to had been completed and locked in place thanks to Lori securing the caterer. All that was left was to figure out furniture rental, decor, and, well... She looked down at the invitations.
Clearly BethAnn’s desire for the spotlight hadn’t diminished in her years away. As happy as people had been to see her go, just like a Monarch, she’d found her way back.
“Buzz, buzz, buzz.” BethAnn clapped her hands together as if wishing a fairy back to life. “Oh, and these all need to be mailed by the eighteenth.”
Lori’s hand froze as she flicked through the addressed envelopes. “You’re kidding? BethAnn, that’s—”
“I know it’s short notice, but I have every faith in you, Lori. Drop me an email when they’re done so I can mark it off the list. I have tons to do before the town council meeting tonight. Stay tuned! There’s going to be a big surprise! Ta!” BethAnn flicked a wave over her shoulder and hurried to the door before any malevolent plans could take hold in Lori’s mind.
“Unbelievable.” There went her free time. Lori grabbed the top box and stuck it on the floor out of sight. She wasn’t up for another lecture from Abby Manning—her friend and boss—about what a pushover she was. She didn’t want to hear how she should be living and enjoying her life instead of hiding behind a desk or holing up in her greenhouse of a sanctuary. Or getting sucked into jobs that weren’t her responsibility.
As if on cue, Abby stepped out from behind the sliding glass doors of Flutterby Dreams, the inn’s now-award-winning restaurant, and turned her perky nose to the ceiling to sniff. “I smell desperation and condescension. BethAnn’s been here, hasn’t she?”
“She just left.” Lori chuckled and pushed the box farther under the desk with her foot. BethAnn’s signature perfume certainly caught people’s attention. “Did you want to say hi?”
Abby rolled her eyes and stepped into the lobby, the flouncy pink skirt of her dress bouncing around her knees. Looking like a cross between a 50’s carhop and a sprite one might find in Lori’s meticulously maintained flower garden, the longtime manager of the Flutterby Inn narrowed laser beam blue eyes on the boxes in Lori’s hands. “What are those?”
“Invitations for the festival kickoff dinner.” Lori had almost pulled them out of reach when Abby’s hands locked around her wrists.
“Why do you have them?”
Lori’s cheeks warmed. She shrugged and shifted on her feet, wishing there was some way to become invisible under her friend’s penetrating stare. How did someone so petite make so many cower? “Because I’m reliable and responsible.” Lori knew how important the festival was to the continued financial recovery of the town. If it meant a few extra hours of work, so be it. “BethAnn was saving me some time by delivering.”
“Uh-huh.” Abby shook her head, clearly not believing her. “And she couldn’t possibly have found someone else to do it or done the work herself. We talked about this, Lori. You have to stop letting people take advantage of you.”
“You take advantage of me,” Lori teased.
“I pay you. There’s a difference.”
“These don’t have to go out for a while. It’ll be fine.” Given the expression on Abby’s face, Lori scrapped plans to get a jump start during her downtime at the inn. “I can get a good start tonight—”
Panic rose in Abby’s eyes. “You’re covering for me at the town hall meeting tonight, remember? I have that dinner with Jason’s partner. If he hadn’t flown in from New York...”
“No, I’ve got it. It’s okay.” Darn it! She’d forgotten she promised to go. “It’s no big deal. I’ll make it all work.”
“Whew. Thanks. Jason’s super nervous about the meeting. I need to be there for moral support. And to pour the wine. Keep your ears open in case our good mayor throws a festival curveball.”
“What kind of curveball?”
“I wish I knew. Don’t worry. You just need to be the face of the inn. Since we agreed to host and sponsor the BBQ cook-off and food market with Calliope—”
“You’re not participating in the cook-off, are you?”
“No.” Abby scrunched her mouth and released Lori’s hands. “Geez, I set off half a dozen fire alarms in this town...”
Lori sank into her chair after settling the boxes in their not-so-hidden hiding place. Abby Manning inhabiting a kitchen was one of the reasons smoke detectors had been invented.
“You’d think the fact I’m marrying a chef would have earned me some points by now,” Abby huffed.
“When are you doing that, exactly?” Lori asked in the hopes of keeping Abby off her case for a while longer. “Getting married?”
“Oh.” Abby blinked, and then a slow, dazed smile stretched across her features. “On Christmas Eve.”
“This Christmas Eve? Abby!” Lori leaped out of her chair and wrapped her arms around a vibrating Abby. “You finally decided on a date! That’s great! Oh, a Christmas wedding.” Lori’s mind exploded in images of blossoming poinsettias and frosted trees decked out in twinkling golden lights and shimmering ribbon. Was there anything more beautiful? “Where?”
“Here.” Abby stepped back and clutched her clasped hands against her chest. “This will be Jason’s first Christmas in Butterfly Harbor and I want to go full bore. Total fantasyland here at the inn. I’ve already talked to our new owners and they want to make it part of their travel promotion next year, which gives me some fun financial numbers to play with.” She hesitated, bit her lower lip and raised uncertain eyes to Lori. “I’m about to become a complete hypocrite.”
“But it’s coming with a warning. I appreciate that.”
“Is there any chance you’d help me with the wedding? The flowers and decorations I mean. I could hire a florist, but you’re so good with the arrangements we put in the rooms and on the table. We get so many compliments.” She gestured to the exploding bouquet of autumn buds and full-blown sunflowers on the side table courtesy of Lori’s greenhouse habit. “And you’re organized, which we both know I need. If you’d be up for it I’d be in your debt forever!”
“You don’t even have to ask.” Excitement struck dead center of Lori’s heart, tempered by momentary worry at the idea of letting her friend down. She hadn’t tackled a project as big as a wedding before, even if it was just the flowers and decor. She’d helped with Holly’s nuptials earlier this summer and then there had been Paige and Fletcher’s spur-of-the-moment ceremony a few weeks ago, but nothing along the scale of what Abby no doubt had in mind.
Still. Lori bit her lip, unable to stop the smile from forming. She could do this. She wanted to do this. Even as she tried to convince herself, her hands shook. She had to do this. Abby was counting on her. “I’m honored, Abby. Truly. Whatever you need.”
“Well, that’s a relief. I know it won’t be easy with you playing double duty as a bridesmaid—”
“Wait, what?” Lori’s pulse flatlined. She touched trembling fingers to her suddenly dry mouth. “Abby, you don’t want me as a bridesmaid. That’s so public. And you’re so...” She waved her hand up and down Abby’s short, petite frame. “And I’m so...” It took her twice as long to indicate her own body.
“You’re so what?” Abby’s eyes sparked and narrowed.
“I’m not bridesmaid material. Next to you I’ll look like the Jolly Green Giantess.” The fat, frumpy Jolly Green Giantess. She tugged at the waistline of her dress, felt her fingernails dig into her palms through the fabric. “Good heavens, the photographer will need a special lens to get us both in the same picture.”
Abby planted her hands on Lori’s shoulders and shoved her into her chair. “You know I hate it when you do that.”
“Do what?”
“You know what. Put yourself down, make a joke out of something I don’t find funny. I can almost understand it with people you don’t know, but we’ve been friends long enough. Stop it.”
