Charlotte's Homecoming. Janice Kay JohnsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
money, but it might have been, mightn’t it? I hated the idea of being responsible for him having a juvenile record.”
“Did you tell his parents?” This wasn’t quite a question—tinged as it was with resignation, the police chief already knew the answer.
“No.”
His mouth twisted. “Well, just because he got lucky doesn’t mean this kid isn’t resentful. This strikes me as something a teenager would do. Impulsive and mean-spirited.”
Rory, Charlotte thought, was also impulsive and mean-spirited. She had a suspicion his emotional maturity had stuck somewhere in the midteenage years. But she’d said enough last night and didn’t want to further upset Faith.
Wheeler glanced at Charlotte. “This Hardesty. Does he live in West Fork?”
Faith had gone back to examining the tablecloth. “Yes.”
“Anyone else you can think of?”
Both sisters shook their heads. Charlotte wasn’t entirely sure Faith would have noticed if someone hated her with a passion.
“All right.” Chief Wheeler closed the notebook and pocketed it, swallowed the last of his coffee and pushed back the chair. “I’ll be talking to neighbors in case anyone saw anything, and to Hardesty and Coffey both. I’ll let you know what I learn.”
Faith and Charlotte both rose to their feet, too. There was something rather intimidating about Ben Wheeler when he towered over them.
Faith looked flustered, and Charlotte remembered her sister hadn’t yet had breakfast. “It’s almost ten,” she said. “I’ll walk Chief Wheeler out and open up shop. You need something to eat.”
“Thank you.” Faith sounded genuinely grateful. “I’ll hurry.”
After assuring her sister that she could manage for half an hour, Charlotte allowed Chief Wheeler to open the back door for her.
The day was already too hot, as far as she was concerned. She had begun to miss the fogs that rolled in from the Pacific Ocean on hot San Francisco days.
As they walked toward the barn, Charlotte said, “So what did we do to deserve the police chief’s personal attention?”
He appeared to be amused. “Gray called me. He considered your fire a priority.”
Oh.
After a moment, Charlotte said, “Faith doesn’t want to think Rory is a danger, but he gave me the serious creeps.”
“So I gathered.” He glanced down at her. “Will you call the next time he shows up?”
“I will. I told him he wasn’t welcome on our land. I doubt Faith would call 9-1-1, though, just because he stopped by. She’s delusional where he’s concerned.” Blunt, she thought, but true.
They were nearly to the barn before Wheeler spoke again. “Does she still feel some attachment for him?”
Charlotte frowned. “No, I don’t think so. It’s just her nature to expect the best of anyone.” She made a face. “We may look alike, but that’s as far as our resemblance goes.”
Some emotion flickered across his face, too quickly for her to read. They had reached the front of the barn and the hard-packed dirt parking lot, where his squad car waited. Charlotte dug the barn key out of her front pocket, since they had locked up earlier when they returned to the kitchen.
Why lock the barn door once the horses have gotten out? she thought irreverently, but of course Faith had been right; they didn’t want customers to wander around unattended.
A car was hesitating on the highway right now, the driver apparently drawn by the large hand-painted signs promising, Antiques! Fresh Produce! Plant Nursery! Local Arts & Crafts! Corn Maze! No, she reminded herself, the sign for the corn maze was covered for now.
Wheeler cleared his throat. “This is a little bit unprofessional … Hell, probably a whole lot unprofessional. But I’m wondering if you’d consider having dinner with me.”
Charlotte blinked in surprise and faced him again. She’d have sworn his gaze had lingered more on her sister’s face than hers, but who knew? Maybe Faith’s obvious shyness or unease or whatever it had been had scared him off. And, hey, they did look alike.
He was a really sexy man.
In a flash, she thought, If I start dating Ben Wheeler, I’ll be safe from Gray. And Ben was attractive; she could enjoy spending time with him, maybe even kissing him. Couldn’t she?
“Sure.” She smiled at him. “That sounds like fun. When and where?”
“Why not tonight? There’s a pretty good new restaurant right here in town. Not too fancy, but good food, if you like steaks.”
“I like steaks.”
They agreed on a time, and he left in the usual cloud of dust as the first customers of the day pulled in. Charlotte unlocked the barn, turned on the lights and welcomed the older couple, who advanced uncertainly into the cavernous interior of the barn.
“Plants are outside,” she told them. “Let me just open those doors.” Seeing them both staring toward the burned side of the barn, she added, “Uh … we had a bit of excitement last night. I apologize for the mess. Probably local teenagers, but we’re mad as all get out.”
Throwing open the side doors and letting in the sunshine, she mused, A date. Imagine that, and refused to let herself wonder what Gray Van Dusen had been about to say to her, right before Faith and Ben Wheeler had interrupted them.
“DAD THINKS THEY’LL LET HIM come home on onday, but he’s still going to be bedridden for a couple of weeks,” Charlotte said, while she used the steak knife to cut a bite of filet mignon.
“Are you two going to be able to take care of him and run the business, too?” Ben Wheeler asked.
They were in a booth at the River Fork Steakhouse, their dinners in front of them. They had already gotten the getting-to-know-each-other stuff out of the way. She’d learned that he had grown up in Los Angeles and been a lieutenant with the LAPD when he decided he’d like a different lifestyle and had looked around for a small town that needed an experienced cop to head its police department.
“It’s a change,” he said, not sounding so sure the change was a good one. “I didn’t expect the politics.”
“Politics?” she asked, surprised.
“The city council. Some days, our esteemed councilors make me wish for a good old-fashioned liquor-store holdup.”
Charlotte had laughed, but he’d looked as if he almost meant it. Small town policing must be considerably more aggravating than it had looked from afar.
After hearing about what she did for a living and sympathizing about the layoff, he’d asked about her father and their plans for the farm.
“Faith has thrown herself into this heart and soul,” she said. “But she’s a teacher, too. Kindergarten. In just a few weeks, she’ll be getting her classroom ready. I haven’t started looking for a job yet, but I can’t imagine staying past September, say. I don’t want to run an antique store slash produce market slash corn maze.”
It was a cry from her heart. Helping out for a few weeks, sure, but she couldn’t imagine what made Faith want to do this long-term. And Dad, laconic at the best of times, was not a man made for retail work. But if they hired too much help, they’d pare their small profit down to nothing.
Faith, Charlotte was very much afraid, had her finger in a dike that was going to crumble no matter what.
“Well, we’ll see,” she said with a sigh.
“Could be your sister didn’t want to spend too much time thinking after the divorce,” the man across the table from her