Page 50 of Playing With Fire

“Maybe not,” he said with a smile. “First, Leroy won’t be pleased to see the Acting Editor of The Monitor pawing through the evidence like Nancy Drew.”

He grinned as Jodi immediately bristled. “Just teasing, ma’am. You’re much more like Lara Croft. But our...collaboration should probably be discreet.”

Jodi nodded sagely.

Like no one saw you kiss me thirty minutes ago in full public view outside the most popular café in Temple Mountain.

“We can meet...” she looked at the busy sidewalk, the crowd of cheerful, chattering people enjoying coffee. And the newspaper office was definitely out. Ditto the library.

“You could come to my apartment,” she blurted. “I can duck home late morning after the editorial meeting.”

The words hung between them, and for a moment Jodi wished she could haul them back. Her small apartment was her private retreat, her bolt hole after years of living in the semi-public space of the rectory.

No one, save a few close girlfriends, had been there.

He shook his head. “Can’t do Tuesday morning.”

She frowned.

“Do you have rehearsal for a cute puppy calendar shoot? Need to check out if Bubbles is behaving?”

She knew she sounded snappish.

Ricky looked awkward. His laugh was forced. “Nothing so much fun I’m afraid. I’m doing another training session with young parents. Hattie lined it up.”

Jodi relaxed, ridiculously relieved that he wasn’t planning an intimate consult with Bonnie Browning about training sessions. Behind closed doors.

“Nice. Maybe I’ll come along and get some more photos...”

He was looking decidedly uneasy. “Not this group, Jodi.”

She raised a single, interrogatory eyebrow.

“It’s a group of adoptive parents,” he said finally. “So photos are out. As are identities.”

His cell rang. Ricky glanced down. His eyes flared.

“Sorry, I need to take this...”

He stood up. “Thanks for getting back to me...sure...could you please hold for a minute...yup...”

He cradled the phone awkwardly, as though deciding whether a goodbye kiss would be in order. He settled for a brief touch of the hand.

Jodi nodded politely. She watched him walk away, phone glued to his ear. His face grew animated, and there was a new spring to his step.

She rested her chin in the palm of her hand. Told herself it was none of her business. Ricky Sharp was a charmer, and he knew it. He had a whole life that she didn’t know about; friends, acquaintances, lovers...

And what’s more, Jodi’s every investigative instinct told her that he would be heading back to that life in the big city one day real soon.

***

It was the call Ricky had been hoping for. He tried to hide his surprise that the legal counsel from the Creating Families adoption agency had even bothered to respond to his message.

“Mr. Sharp. Lyle Standish here. I understand you have a query about a private adoption?” The official-sounding voice grew sharper. “You do realize that adoption information is protected by law; county, state and federal?”

Ricky looked around for a quieter spot than the main street of Temple Mountain. He ducked down an alley graced by a colorful graphic of people working in a community garden. There was a small park hidden away at the end. He headed towards a solitary bench, trying to still the agitation thrumming through his veins.

The voice went on to list the many regulations and legislative changes affecting adoption.

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