Small-Town Face-Off. Tyler Anne Snell

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СКАЧАТЬ anymore, they told him they’d come back and get them both.” Suzy lowered her voice a little. “To be honest, I think Jessica is under the influence of something right now—why didn’t she call us from the scene?—but I sent Dante out there to check it out. I just wanted to give you a heads-up if this thing ends up escalating and poor Bernie really is in a ditch somewhere.”

      Billy spotted his shoes and went to put them on.

      “Go ahead and get descriptions of the men she claims paid them a visit,” he said. “They could very well be suspects in a murder. And, if not, at the very least, they could be trying to buy or spread narcotics in the community.” His thoughts flew back to Bryan Copeland.

      “And we don’t want any more of that,” she finished.

      “No,” Billy said. “Definitely not.”

      “Okay, I’ll give you a call when this all pans out.”

      “Don’t worry about it,” he said, tying the laces to his shoes. “I’m coming in.”

      “But—”

      “The people of Riker County didn’t elect me to sit back when potential murderers could be roaming the streets,” he reminded her. “Plus, if there is a body and a crime scene, we need to act fast so that the rain doesn’t destroy any evidence. Call Matt and tell him to go ahead and head out there. Even if it’s a false alarm I’d rather be safe than sorry. Don’t let Jessica leave the station until I get there.”

      Suzy agreed and said goodbye. She might have been his closest friend, but she still knew when to not argue with an order. Even if she had been trying to look out for him.

      Billy turned the game off, not bothering to look at the score, and mentally checked out. He tried recalling where Bernie had lived when he’d arrested him and the road that Jessica would travel going there. Billy had grown up in Carpenter, which was one of the three small towns located in Riker County, and Billy had driven all of its roads at least twice. It was the epicenter of a community fused together by humidity, gossip and roots so deep that generations of families never left. Billy Reed was a part of one of those families. He lived in the home he and his father had both grown up in, and a part of him hoped that one day his kids would walk the same hallways. Not that he had any kids. However, it was still a thought that drove him to try and keep the only home he’d ever known a safe, enjoyable one. If Bernie and his past drug habits were back at it, then Billy wanted to nip that in the bud.

      Billy tried to rein in thoughts from the past as he searched for his keys, the one item he always seemed to lose, when a knock sounded on the front door. Like a dog trying to figure out a foreign noise, he tilted his head to the side and paused.

      It was well past dark and had been raining for the last hour. The list of visitors he’d typically receive was relatively short, considering most wouldn’t drop by unannounced. Still, as he walked through the living room to the entryway, he considered the possibility of a friend coming by for a drink or two. Just because he’d become sheriff didn’t mean his social life had completely stopped. Then again, for all he knew it could be his mother coming into town early. If so, then he was about to be berated for his lack of Christmas lights and tree despite its being a week away from the holiday. While Billy knew he had to maintain a good image within the community, even when he was off, he hadn’t found the time or will to get into a festive mood. Though, if he was being honest with himself, the holidays had lost some charm for him in the last few years. Still, he opened the door with a smile that felt inviting, even genuine.

      And immediately was lost for words.

      It was like looking in a mirror and recognizing your reflection, yet at the same time still being surprised by it. That’s what Billy was going through as he looked at Mara Copeland, dark hair wet from the rain that slid down her poncho, standing on his welcome mat.

      “Hey, Billy.”

      Even her voice pushed Billy deeper into his own personal twilight zone. It kept whatever greeting he had reserved for a normal visitor far behind his tongue.

      “I know it’s late and I have no business being here but, Billy, I think I need your help.”

      * * *

      BILLY DIDN’T MAKE her spell out her situation standing there on his doorstep. He’d regained his composure by the tail end of Mara’s plea. Though she could tell it was a struggle.

      “Come in,” he said, standing back and gesturing wide with his long arms. Mara had almost forgotten how tall he was. Even in the mostly dark space outside his door, she could still make out the appearance of a man who looked the same as he had almost two years before—tall, with broad shoulders and a lean body rather than overly muscled. Lithe, like a soccer player, and no doubt strong, an attractive mix that carried up and through to a hard chin and a prominent nose. His eyes, a wild, ever-moving green, just sweetened the entire pot that was Billy Reed. Mara had realized a long time ago that there wasn’t a part of the dark-haired man she didn’t find appealing.

      Which didn’t help what had happened back then.

      She hesitated at his invitation to come inside, knowing how meticulous he was with keeping the hardwood in his house clean. Which she clearly was not. The poncho might have kept the clothes underneath dry, but it still was shedding water like a dog would its fur in the summer. Not to mention she hadn’t had a hood to keep her long tangles of hair dry.

      “Don’t worry about it,” he said, guessing her thoughts. “It’s only water.”

      His smile, which she’d been afraid she’d broken by her arrival, came back. But only a fraction of it. The lack of its former affection stung. Then again, what had she expected?

      “Sorry to intrude,” she said, once they were both shut inside the house. Its warmth eased some of the nerves that had been dancing since she’d gotten into the car that morning, although not nearly enough to keep her stomach from fluttering. Although she’d known her destination since she’d buckled her seat belt, seeing the sheriff in person had stunned her, in a way. Like finding a memory she’d tried to forget suddenly within reach. She started to wonder if he had tried to forget her. “I would have called but I couldn’t find your number,” she lied.

      Billy stood back, giving her space. The small part of his smile that had surfaced was disintegrating. Mara’s stomach began to knot. She had a feeling that Billy’s politeness was sheer Southern reflex.

      And now he was starting to remember exactly who she was.

      She didn’t blame him or the mistrust that distorted his handsome face next.

      Though, that stung a bit, too.

      “You could have called the department,” he deadpanned. “You might not remember, what with you up and leaving so quickly, but I’m the sheriff. I’m sure if you asked for me they’d patch you right on through.”

      Mara kept the urge to flinch at bay. In her road trip across Alabama, back to the last place she’d ever thought she’d return—especially with Christmas only days away—a small part of her had hoped Billy would have somehow forgotten or forgiven what she’d done. That when and if they ever met again, he would smile that dimpled smile that used to make her go weak in the knees and they’d—what?—be friends? Her thoughts had always derailed at that question. They always seemed to when she thought of Billy.

      The little girl asleep and hidden beneath the СКАЧАТЬ