Page 14 of The Harborer
Let him have it, sweetheart!
“My land, I will never understand why some people stick with them that don’t deserve to be stuck with.”
Shane whirled in place. Dixie Dobbs had somehow materialized beside him without a sound. She shook her brassy-blond head as she fixed on Micky and Amy. Besides the eye shadow that looked as though she’d smeared blue neon on her lids, Dixie was best known for having her digits on Fall River’s pulse and knowing every secret in town, no matter how tiny.
She tsked. “I’ll bet you wish you could crack some sense into him with your club.”
“It’s not a club. It’s a baton.”And damn straight I wish I could use it on his thick skull.
“You know, Deputy,” she continued without looking at him, “our little Amy is wasting her breath on that man. A shame those kinds of crimes are allowed to go on.”
Shane took another swig to keep himself from blurting out something that could wind up on the town’s gossip feed. The coffee was strong, just the way he liked it, but the interplay between Micky and Amy was leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.
“They’ve been together for a while,” he reasoned. “Amy’s a smart woman, so she must seesomethingin him that maybe isn’t so obvious to the rest of us.” Even if the rest of them had no clue what that something could be.
“Well, that girl is way too nice. Plus, I think she gave up and gave in to him when no other fellas stepped up to the plate. She’s probably convinced herself she can’t do better.”
Shane nearly spewed his coffee.What? How could Amy think she couldn’t do better than Micky?She merely had to look at herself in the mirror to see how stunning she was, and her looks were only the cherry on top of the entire package that, at its very core, held her sunny disposition. And Shane wasn’t the only one who noticed. He’d heard plenty of talk in his own office about the “exotic beauty with the gorgeous smile and the great coffee.”
“And another thing,” Dixie went on, “that man is not true to that sweet woman of his.”
“He claims he is.” It took a moment before Shane swiveled his head and looked at her. “What makes you say that, Dix?”
“Don’t need twenty-twenty vision or glasses to see he’s not keeping things zipped up.”
“That’s a little vague,” Shane pointed out. Dixie usually got her rumors right, but this was the first time Shane had heard someone come out and openly declare that Micky was unfaithful. Something that juicy wouldn’t have stayed quiet this long; it was entirely possible Dixie’s statement was off the mark.
She turned to him and blinked several times, her thick, pasted-on lashes obliterating her blue eyes with each pass. She perched a gloved hand on her ample hip. “Might’ve known the deputy needs him some black-and-white facts. Well, I ain’t got the hard proof you’re looking for—like video evidence and sworn statements and all—but a woman just knows. I will tell you one thing—and thisisa fact you can take to the bank—that man is scrawnier than a scarecrow that’s lost its stuffing. Amy deserves arealman and not some darned pipe cleaner.” She looked Shane up and down from his booted feet to his hat.
What the hell isthatlook about?
He shoved the question aside and nearly laughed out loud. First of all, Micky wasn’tthatscrawny. But even more ironic was that Dixie probably weighed twice as much as her wire sculpture of a husband, Dewey. Seeing the two of them together was like watching—
“Now I know what you’re thinking.” Beside Dixie’s talent for appearing out of nowhere, she could also read minds.Law enforcement could use her skills. “Now, my man may not have much meat on his bones, but he is powerful strong. You’ve seen him heft a stock pot full of chili in Noah’s kitchen or the way he moves the tables in the dining room like he was picking up matches.” Dixie and Dewey both worked for Noah in his bar and restaurant, where she was the manager and Dewey was the head cook. “But you havenoidea how that man can move when and where it counts.” Her painted-on brows bounced beneath her hair-sprayed bangs.
Shane’s brain screamed,“TMI, TMI, TMI!”He tried to lock out the images flickering on his mind’s movie screen and instead swept his gaze back to Micky and Amy. Micky was gone, and Amy was frantically filling more coffee cups while Cade looked on in a daze. Wasn’t anybody going to help her?
Well, shit!Shane debated heading over there himself, but he had a job to do that didn’t include filling cups for the pretty barista.
“Quite a day with the train coming and all,” Dixie prattled. “I reckon it’s going to make your day a little busier and your job a little more challenging, what with drunk tourists stumbling down the sidewalks and overrunning our little town.”
“One can only dream,” Shane remarked dryly.
The train whistle grew louder, shriller, as the telltale chugging became more insistent. A low vibration in the ground announced the engine was about to pull up to the depot, matching the rumble of excitement in the crowd. A bright headlight, the clanging of a bell. Steam rolled from the train’s gleaming black stack as it came into view.
The moment everyone had been waiting for had finally arrived. Shane’s gaze bounced between the train and the crowd. Every Fall River resident who should have been there to witness historywasthere. Everyone except Micky.
Chapter 6
Accusations
Amy’s anger propelled herto fill Mountain Coffee cups at warp speed. The steamy brew was a metaphor for what was going on inside her gut. She glanced over at her sole helper, glassy-eyed Cade, who stared at her from where he stood opening sleeves of biodegradable cups. He was going at the rate of a land turtle … or a hungover twenty-one-year-old.
“You want me to fill some of those? Or …?” He looked lost. Stoned. Stunned by Micky’s rant like she was, only Cade was paralyzed while Amy was taking out her aggravation on the damn coffee cups. She squeezed one a littletoohard, crushing it, and had to chuck it.
“No, I got this,” she said through clenched teeth. In his condition, he’d probably spill half of it anyway. He’d been asleep at the wheel most of the morning, after what was no doubt a night experimenting with how much liquor his young body could metabolize.
Don’t take it out on him. He didn’t do anything wrong, and he’s not the reason you’re mad. No, all her frustration could be focused on the guy who, instead of offering to help out, had hissed at her about talking to Shane, demanding to know what they’d talked about, how much of his “private business” she’d spilled.
