The Heart Of Devin MacKade: the classic story from the queen of romance that you won’t be able to put down. Нора Робертс

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СКАЧАТЬ The sheer monotony of paperwork could be soothing. Things were quiet, as they were expected to be in a town of less than twenty-five hundred. His job was to keep it that way, and deal with the drunk-and-disorderlies, the traffic violations, the occasional petty theft or domestic dispute.

      Things heated up now and again, but in his seven years with Antietam’s sheriff’s department, both as deputy and as sheriff, he’d had to draw his weapon only twice. And he’d never been forced to fire it.

      Reason and guile usually worked, and if they didn’t, a fist usually turned the tide.

      When the phone rang, Devin glanced hopefully toward his deputy. Donnie’s fingers never broke rhythm, so, with a sigh, Devin answered the phone himself. He was well on his way to calming a hysterical woman who claimed that her neighbor deliberately sent her dog over into her yard to fertilize her petunias when Jared walked in.

      “Yes, ma’am. No, ma’am.” Devin rolled his eyes and motioned Jared to a seat. “Have you talked with her, asked her to keep her dog in her own yard?”

      The answer came so fast and loud that Devin winced and held the phone six inches from his ear. In the little wooden chair across the desk, Jared grinned and stretched out his legs.

      “Yes, ma’am, I’m sure you worked very hard on your petunias. No, no, don’t do that. Please. There’s a law against discharging a firearm within town limits. You don’t want to go waving your shotgun at the dog. I’m going to send somebody over there. Yes, ma’am, I surely am. Ah…we’ll see what we can do. You leave that shotgun alone now, you hear? Yes, ma’am, I’ve got it all down right here. You just sit tight.”

      He hung up, tore off the memo sheet. “Donnie?”

      “Yo.”

      “Get on over to Oak Leaf and handle this.”

      “We got us a situation?” Donnie stopped his drumming, looking hopeful. Devin thought he seemed very young, in his carefully pressed uniform, with his scarecrow hair and eager blue eyes.

      “We’ve got a French poodle using a petunia bed as a toilet. Explain about the leash law, and see if you can keep these two women from a hair-pulling contest.”

      “Yo!” Delighted with the assignment, Donnie took the information sheet, adjusted his hat and strode out, ready to uphold the law.

      “I think he started to shave last week,” Devin commented.

      “Petunias and poodles,” Jared said, and stretched. “I can see you’re busy.”

      “Antietam’s a real naked city.” Devin got up to pour them both coffee. “Had us a situation down to Duff’s,” he added, tinting his voice with Donnie’s accent and emphasis. “Three cases of beer went missing.”

      “Well, well…”

      “Got two of them back.” After handing Jared the mug, Devin eased a hip onto his desk. “The other had been consumed by three sixteen-year-olds.”

      “Tracked them down, did you?”

      “It didn’t take Sam Spade.” Devin shook his head as he sipped. “They’d bragged about it right and left, took the beer out to the field near the high school and had themselves a party. They were sick as dogs when I caught up with them. Idiots. Now they’ve got B and E charges, larceny, and an appointment with juvie.”

      “Seems to me I remember a couple of cases of beer and a party. In the woods.”

      “We didn’t steal it,” Devin reminded him. “We left Duff the money in the storeroom—after we’d broken in and taken the beer.”

      “A fine but salient point. God, we got drunk.”

      “And sick,” Devin added. “When we crawled home, Mom made us shovel manure all afternoon. I thought I’d die.”

      “Those were the days,” Jared said with a sigh. He sat back. Despite the trim suit and tie, the expensive shoes, there was no mistaking him for anything but a MacKade. Like his brother, he had the reckless dark good looks. A bit more groomed, a bit more polished, but reckless enough.

      “What are you doing in town?”

      “This and that.” Jared wanted to work up to what he had to tell Devin. “Layla’s getting a tooth.”

      “Yeah? Keeping you guys up?”

      “I forgot what sleep’s like.” His grin flashed. “It’s great. You know, Bryan changes diapers. The kid’s so in love with her, Savannah says the first thing he does when he gets home from school is to go find her.”

      “You got lucky,” Devin murmured.

      “Don’t I know it. You ought to try it, Dev. Marriage is a pretty good deal.”

      “It’s working for you and Rafe. I saw him this morning, heading into the hardware with Nate strapped to his back. He looked real domestic.”

      “Did you tell him that?”

      “I didn’t want to start a fight in front of the baby.”

      “Good call. You know what you need around here, Dev?” Still sipping coffee, Jared looked around the office. It was utilitarian, basic. Desks, wood floors, coffeepot, a ceiling fan that he knew squeaked when it was put into use in the summer, unpadded chairs, metal file cabinets. “You need a dog. Ethel’ll be dropping that litter any day now.”

      Devin raised a brow. Fred and Ethel, Shane’s golden retrievers, had finally figured out what boy and girl dogs could do together besides chase rabbits. “Yeah, I need a puppy puddling on the floor and chewing up my papers.”

      “Companionship,” Jared insisted. “Think how you’d look cruising around town with a dog riding shotgun. You could deputize him.”

      The image made Devin grin, but he set his coffee down. “I’ll keep it in mind. Now why don’t you tell me what you came in to tell me?”

      Jared blew out a breath. He knew how Devin’s mind worked, step by meticulous step. He’d let Jared ramble, but he hadn’t been fooled. “I had some business at the prison this morning.”

      “One of your clients not getting his full television rights?”

      Jared set his coffee aside, linked his fingers. “You arrest them, I represent them. That’s why it’s called law and order.”

      “Right. How could I forget? So?”

      “So. I had a meeting with the warden, and as he’s aware that I’m Cassie’s lawyer, he felt it reasonable to pass some news on to me.”

      Devin’s mouth thinned. “Dolin.”

      “Yeah, Joe Dolin.”

      “He’s not up for a parole hearing for another eighteen months.” Devin knew the exact day, to the hour.

      “That’s right. It seems that after a difficult period of adjustment, during which Joe was a disciplinary problem, he’s become a model prisoner.”

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