Page 84 of Guilty as Sin
A rustle from the crowd, and Hailey’s voice rang out. “We have the right to defend ourselves. I work at Sinful Desires, too. I love that store. And I’m carrying. So you all know.”
Paige had to turn around and look. Hailey was standing, her chin lifted, and she looked as ferocious as it was possible for a well-built fiftyish lady in a silky navy-blue top to look. A man stood up beside her, cleared his throat, and said, “I’m her husband. And so am I.”
Worthington held out a palm, and Paige had to feel some sympathy for him. A shootout on Main Street would not end well. For anybody. “Everybody has the right to defend themselves if their life’s in danger,” he said. “But we’re still going to investigate any incident, and so is the DA. Leave the life-or-death decisions to us, please, unless you’re darn sure itisa life-or-death situation. Call 911.”
After that, it was all over but the shouting. The chairman said a final few words and slammed the gavel down, and the audience began to file out amidst a buzz of talk. Entertaining evening, apparently. A few women came up to Paige, sliding their eyes on over to Jace, and commiserated over her injuries in a way she found decidedly uncomfortable. Being Lily had never been harder.
The only person who addressed what had happened directly, though, was Hailey.
She hurried up, smiling, with her hand over her heart. “Oh, my goodness,” she told Jace, “I swear I had a hot flash. That was like a romance novel. If I was twenty years younger—and not married, of course—well, I wouldn’t be too sure of what I might do.”
“I’m a gentleman,” Jace said, letting his grin show at last, “or I’d answer that better. I like you, too. Although you’ve got me well and truly scared now that I know you’re armed.”
She laughed again. “I do not. You’re terrible.” She told Paige, “Jarrod Knightley wasnothappy. Did you watch his face?”
“No,” Paige admitted. “I was watching Jace.”
Hailey said, “Well, I can understand that.”
“And thank you,” Paige added. “You were awesome. You surprised me.”
“Well, I shouldn’t have,” Hailey said a little tartly. “You should know how I feel by now. For heaven’s sake. But anyway, Jarrod. Word’s gotten around about Madison’s bad habit.”
“How did that happen, I wonder?” Jace asked the air.
Hailey said, “Well, if somebody’s going to steal from our beautiful store, I’m not going to keep quiet about it. And I think the other merchants ought to know. Nobody can afford that. Nobody shouldhaveto afford that. I don’t care who your dad is, you don’t get to steal.”
“No argument from me,” Jace said.
Brett Hunter stood at the edge of the little group, and Paige put a hand on Hailey’s arm, turned to him, and said, “I wasn’t expecting that. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” he said. “Just looking after my interests. And my skin.”
Paige studied him. “I can’t believe,” she said slowly, “that you’d really invest all this time and effort if acquiring one twenty-acre parcel is the make-or-break difference in going ahead or not. Tell the truth. Is it really?”
“Ah,” he said with a smile, “But you see, a good businessman never shows his hand. Anything I can help you with regarding that offer?”
“No,” she said, “I think I’ve got it.”
“Good.” His expression shifted. “And Iamsorry. Surprised, too. I have to say, this is a first.”
Jace said, “But then, some bee colonies are Africanized, and some aren’t. The difference isn’t whether they’ll sting if they’re provoked. The difference is how many times. I think we’ve got an Africanized colony.”
“Do you?” Hunter asked. “I hope not.” He reached out a hand, and after a moment, Jace took it. “Good speech. Great visuals. Want a job?”
“No,” Jace said. “I already have a job.”
Hunter sighed. “Always the way. The best ones are already taken.” He gave Paige a bland look that she had no trouble interpreting, and from the way Jace’s posture changed, he didn’t have any trouble, either.
“Bastard,” he muttered as Hunter moved off. “And I want to hate him, but I can’t. Bugger.”
“I know,” Paige agreed. “He’s annoying.”
Jace looked at her more sharply. “How’re you going? You don’t look too flash.”
“Oh, you know.” She tried to make it airy. “Long time to sit. Thank you, though. I can’t believe you. And thanks a lot for the Africanized bees.”
“We’ll go,” he said. “I’d say we’re done. I’ll admit, you put the Africanized bees into my mind. Talk about an effective image. It’s about flinging down the gauntlet. Generally, nobody picks it up. Lucky for us.”
