Holly Grove Homecoming Read online

  His lips twitched as though he was suppressing a smile, but then a soft moan sounded deep in his throat and he grabbed her and pulled her into a firm embrace. The soft kiss she’d initiated turned suddenly serious.

  Carly welcomed the feel of Trooper’s arms around her. His strength was evident but, unlike her experiences with some men, she felt secure rather than smothered. She wrapped her arms around his waist and opened her mouth to his kiss, which was perhaps the greatest she’d ever experienced.

  His touch was perfect, neither too demanding nor too soft, just powerful. At the same time, he somehow managed to make her feel as though she was in total control. And intuitively, she knew she was. If she had resisted for a split second, he would have released her immediately.

  The end of the kiss came slowly but evenly, each drawing away from the other with obvious reluctance. Carly sighed. Trooper smiled, a tiny, sad smile. “I hate to end this,” he murmured.

  “Me too.” Carly took a step back and he dropped his arms.

  A twinkle appeared in his eyes. “At least I know you don’t find me repulsive.”

  Carly allowed the corners of her lips to twitch. “At least I know you aren’t turned off when a female initiates a kiss.”

  “You thought that…?” His eyes widened. “Ah! Well, to put your mind at ease, allow me to grant you unfettered permission to initiate anything at all with me. Anytime. Anywhere.”

  Carly laughed, partly because of the heated twinkle in his eyes and partly from relief. “I’ll keep that in mind. Tell Myrna hello for me.”

  He nodded in recognition of her dismissal. “Will do. Call if Marge Abbott pulls any tricks tonight and you get nervous.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  He paused at the edge of the sidewalk to wave before he hurried on across the street. Carly watched until he disappeared into Myrna’s house. Then she wiped the dreamy smile off her face and turned her steps toward her office and her computer. It was time to begin her research.

  Chapter 14

  By four o’clock the next morning, Carly had read at least two dozen online articles about the Myers/Abbott case and had written two chapters on her novel. She’d tried to go to bed a couple of times, but sleep refused to come. She was simply too jazzed about the opportunity to work with Trooper Myers, not to mention that kiss.

  She couldn’t help but worry that encouraging a romantic relationship wasn’t wise on her part. After all, she could be setting them up for problems should the romance turn sour. But she certainly couldn’t go back and delete the kiss in the same way she would delete a scene from her book when it wasn’t working.

  By four fifteen, her eyes were burning and her neck ached clear to the bone. Her brain didn’t want to turn off, but her body was telling her it couldn’t take any more. She saved her work, put her computer to sleep, and trudged down the hall for a quick trip to the bathroom. As soon as she got into bed, sleep claimed her.

  * * *

  As was his habit, Trooper rolled out of bed at five o’clock the following morning to run. Even before he dressed, though, he looked across the street toward Carly’s house to see if there was a light in her office window. Her house, at least the portion he could see, was totally dark, which led Trooper to hope her rest hadn’t been disturbed by any tricks Marge Abbott might have pulled.

  The morning air drifting through his open bedroom window carried with it the sweet fragrance of honeysuckle, but it also felt heavy, as though the humidity was going to be high again today.

  Wanting to get his run in before the heat increased too much, Trooper pulled on his shorts and a tee, then his socks and running shoes. He unplugged his cell phone, stuck it in his pocket, and hurried down the stairs and outside.

  Sugar Maple Drive was quiet and most of the houses were still dark, including the Abbott house. Trooper paused to stretch before beginning his run, and his cell phone bumped against his thigh. He sighed. He ordinarily didn’t carry his cell on his run, but this morning was different. This morning he had to make some phone calls about Carly Morrison. Despite all she’d told him about herself and her plans, he couldn’t help but feel that she was still hiding something from him.

  Of course he could just be ultra suspicious due to his background in the FBI, but he wasn’t willing to take that chance. He might be on leave, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t call a coworker and good friend who would be glad to do a bit of investigative work for him.

  And that’s what he planned to do just as soon as he arrived in the park at the edge of town where he wasn’t likely to be overheard. He’d have to leave a voice message because he didn’t expect George to be in the office this early, but that was okay. George would need a little time to do the research anyway.

  Half an hour later, he’d completed his call, left a voice message, then made his usual stop at Watson’s Bakery. When he jogged back down Sugar Maple Drive, he looked toward Carly’s house, hoping to see a light on, but her windows were still dark.

  He paused at Myrna’s front porch to cool down, then let himself into the house. He went by the kitchen to drop off the bakery bag before going upstairs to shower and dress. Then he slipped back downstairs to start the coffee.

  Myrna was there ahead of him. She’d already poured him a cup of coffee and set a dish of fruit salad at his place. She greeted him with raised eyebrows.

  “I see you went by Watson’s again this morning. Danish are all well and good on occasion, but I expect you to eat some of my fruit salad before you put one of those sugary confections into your body.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Trooper saluted, then smiled. “Actually, I’d intended to share most of the Watson goodies with Carly but her windows were dark when I passed by on my way home.”

  Myrna propped her hands on her hips. “So I’m second choice now it seems.”

  Trooper grinned, then pulled her into a hug. “You know that you’ll always be my number one girl.”

  Myrna briefly returned his hug, then pushed him away. “You always did try to charm me, but I’m onto you, young man. Now sit down and eat your— What’s that noise?”

  “My cell phone.” Trooper glanced toward the ceiling. He’d plugged his phone back in and come downstairs without it, forgetting that he’d left a message for George to return his call. “I’d better get that,” he mumbled. “Be back in a minute.” He took the stairs two at a time.

  Fearing the call would go into voice mail, he ran the last few steps, then grabbed the phone and flipped it open. “Yes?”

  “Damn, Troop. Is that any way to greet an old buddy who’s been ignoring his own work to research your newest lady’s background for you?”

  Trooper bit back a grin. Not that George could have seen him grin over the phone, but he would have detected a smile in his voice. George was one of the hardest people to fool that Trooper had ever worked with.

  “What makes you say that she’s my lady?”

  “Hell, Troop, you think I’m an idiot? I looked at her picture from when she worked for that television station. If she’s not your lady, then you just move on over, son, because I’m on my way down there.”

  “Does this mean I can safely assume she’s who she says she is?”

  “Unless she’s better at hiding secrets than most people. But I don’t think that’s the case. Everything you asked me to check on turned out the way she said. Her stalker’s still in prison. In fact, he’s likely to stay there for a while. He attacked and wounded a guard and his sentence got upped by a few years.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “A couple of months ago.”

  “Okay. And everything else checked out?”

  “Yep. Now, you want to tell me what all of this is about?”

  “Nope.”

  “That’s what I figured.” The timbre of George’s voice changed subtly. “So how are you doing?”

  “Good.”

  “You taking care of that shoulder?”

  “It’s coming along.”

>   “Okay. Well, I’d better get back to my job before somebody finds out I’ve spent the best part of a morning working for you instead of the Bureau.”

  Trooper glanced at his watch. “Yeah, I see it’s almost nine o’clock. I’d feel bad if I thought I’d knocked you out of your third doughnut.”

  “I’ll live. Take care of yourself, buddy.”

  “Will do. And thanks.”

  “Not a problem. See ya!”

  Trooper closed his phone and smiled to himself. He felt a little guilty checking up on Carly behind her back, but he’d learned to trust his instincts about people. Strange that he’d felt she was hiding something from him. He must not be back up to full speed yet. Maybe the shrinks knew their business after all.

  He gave a mental shrug and plugged his phone in to charge. He’d go back downstairs, eat breakfast, and then decide what task to tackle first. Talking with George made him realize that he couldn’t afford to sit on his duff any longer. One of these days he’d be ready to go back to work, and he wanted to make sure he’d finished what he needed to do in Holly Grove. Maybe with Carly’s help he could determine once and for all what had really happened twenty years ago, then get on with his life.

  Of course now the process of getting on with his life involved coming to terms with what had happened in April and he didn’t know how he was ever going to do that.

  Now fully committed to starting his research, Trooper decided to pay a visit to the current sheriff. Over the years he’d learned that local law enforcement officers frequently resented the FBI, even when the agents went out of their way not to step on anybody’s toes, so he figured some caution was called for.

  As soon as he finished breakfast, he went upstairs to change out of his jeans. He chose to dress casually but respectfully in khaki slacks and a navy knit shirt. And just in case he might need to prove who he was, he slipped his identification into his pants pocket.

  The sheriff’s office had moved since Trooper had lived in Holly Grove. A new jail/office building had gone up on the west side of town, and while Trooper understood the need for a modern building, he felt a bit nostalgic for the old stone building on the town square that had once housed the sheriff’s office and three jail cells.

  He didn’t call ahead because he was aware that even when people had nothing to hide, they tended to rehearse their responses when they knew they were going to be questioned on a particular topic. Although Trooper had never met the current sheriff, he figured the man had to at least know that Trooper was in town.

  When he pulled into the paved parking lot in front of the bland, concrete block building, he glanced at the official cars parked nearby and spotted what he suspected was the sheriff’s car. Not only was it the cleanest but it was also a later model than the other official cars in the lot.

  Squaring his shoulders, he cut his motor and got out of the car. Heat rising from the baked blacktop enveloped him, and he hurried to enter the lobby, which was blessedly cool.

  A young female receptionist seated behind a metal desk looked up from her computer screen as he stepped inside, then smiled. “Good morning. Can I help you?”

  Trooper returned her smile. “Is the sheriff in?”

  Her smile faded a bit. “May I give him your name?”

  “Nelson Myers.” Trooper never used his nickname for official business.

  “And the nature of your business, Mr. Myers?”

  “Private.”

  The woman’s smile disappeared completely. “I’m afraid the sheriff is pretty busy this morning. I’ll have to ask him if he can see you.”

  She stood and walked through a door on the right side of the lobby. From his vantage point, Trooper could watch as she walked past a couple of doors that opened into offices before she moved on down the hallway and out of sight.

  A minute later, she appeared again. Her smile had returned, but there was an underlying tone of respect that had been lacking earlier. “The sheriff will be right out, Mr. Myers. Can I get you a cup of coffee?”

  Accustomed to the fluctuating reactions of locals, Trooper gave a mental shrug. He returned the young lady’s smile but declined the coffee. He assumed that her sudden friendly behavior meant the sheriff had not indicated any special irritation at having his morning interrupted.

  Within seconds, the sound of rapid footfalls coming down the hall signaled the imminent arrival of the sheriff. Trooper looked toward the door with a degree of dread, still not sure what to expect, when a young man dressed in the gray uniform of the local sheriff’s department stepped into the lobby. A wide grin brightened the fellow’s face and he hurried forward with his hand extended. “Agent Myers! I’m Sheriff Michael Denton. I’m sure glad you dropped by. I’ve heard a lot about you. My dad played football with you in high school.”

  Trooper extended his hand and returned the young man’s firm handshake, but he also winced. “Good to meet you, even though you’ve just succeeded in making me feel ancient. I hadn’t expected the local sheriff to be the son of one of my high school classmates.”

  The young man laughed. “Don’t feel bad. My folks were three years ahead of you. Besides that, my mom was pregnant with me when she graduated from high school. She and dad married that summer.”

  Trooper stared at the young man for a few more seconds, then nodded. “You must be Kevin Denton’s son.”

  “Yep. And my mom, of course, was Shelley Davidson. They dated all through high school. Or so they tell me. Dad also says you’re the best wide receiver that ever came out of Holly Grove High.”

  Trooper felt a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. Hard to believe he could still be flattered by a compliment related to his high school football career. “I caught a few,” he admitted. “But your dad was one of the best linebackers in the state. Did he play in college?”

  “Nah. I think an out-of-state school offered him a scholarship but he had to work part time since he and mom were married, so he went to a community college nearby. He still loves football though. He said if you dropped by that I should tell you that he would love to see you and relive some of your old glory days.”

  Trooper laughed. “Well, reliving my glory days wouldn’t take long. But I’d love to see your dad. What’s he doing now?”

  “He has his own business selling insurance. And Mom works as his office manager. Here, I’ll write down the address for you and you can stop by and visit with them if you have a chance.”

  The sheriff grabbed a note pad from the receptionist’s desk and scribbled three lines on it, then tore the sheet off and handed it to Trooper.

  Trooper glanced at the address, then folded the sheet and stuck it in his pocket. “Thanks, Sheriff.”

  “Call me Mike, please.”

  Trooper nodded. “Sure will, Mike, if you’ll call me Trooper. Now I wonder if we could talk privately for a few minutes?”

  The sheriff’s smile faded. “Of course. Come on back to my office.”

  A few minutes later Trooper was seated in front of the sheriff’s desk thumbing through a thick folder of papers. Then he looked up and met the sheriff’s gaze. “It was nice of you to anticipate my questions and make copies of all the reports related to my parents’ deaths.” He held the folder up. “These are all of the reports, I assume?”

  The sheriff nodded. “I even made copies of the pictures, although you’re welcome to see the originals if you’d rather. I don’t think any details were obscured when I scanned the pictures though. In fact, the copies may be clearer than some of the originals. I took some computer classes in college and learned a few tricks.”

  Trooper frowned. “You couldn’t be old enough to have finished college. In fact, I’m a little surprised that you managed to get named sheriff at your age.”

  Mike shrugged. “I graduated from high school a year early and then went through college in three years. Since I had a degree in criminal justice, the good folks on the county commission seemed to think I’d make a capable sheriff. So far, I think t
hey’re satisfied with the job I’m doing.”

  “I suspect they are,” Trooper said, shooting him a smile. He got to his feet. “I appreciate your cooperation. Do you need me to return the contents of this folder when I’m finished?”

  The sheriff also stood. “No, that’s yours to keep. But I would appreciate it if you’d fill me in if you uncover any new information.”

  Trooper regarded him silently for a minute. “Have you ever heard anything that might be of benefit to me?”

  “No, and if I had, I’d already have told you about it. The thing is, Trooper, that this incident is just about as fresh on people’s minds today as it was twenty years ago, especially since you came back to town. Everybody I’ve heard talk about it says they don’t believe your mother would have done anything like Larry Abbott said she did. They figure maybe he was just a little crazy, especially considering the way his mother behaves. Most folks seem to think being a little unbalanced must run in the family. And if that’s the case, well, Larry might even have believed what he wrote in that suicide note. In which case, there’s really nothing else to know.”

  Trooper nodded slowly. “You could be right, but you can see where I’d want to come to that conclusion on my own.”

  “I can. I’d feel the same if it was my parents who’d been killed. You just let me know if you need anything else.”

  “Thanks, Mike. And tell your parents I’ll stop by the office first chance I get.”

  “Will do.” The sheriff came around the desk and shook hands with Trooper again. “Don’t forget me if you find out anything interesting.”

  “I won’t. And thanks again.” He turned and walked through the hallway, past the receptionist’s desk, and back out into the blazing sun, the folder clutched tightly in his hand, a hand that had started perspiring before the heat of the day reached him.

  He just hoped he had what it took to maintain an investigative distance while he read the reports and looked at the pictures that were contained in that folder.