Page 40 of Out to Get Her
“Sergeant Ardoin?”
She turned toward the unfamiliar voice. A woman with a tablet tucked in one arm aimed her other arm at the back of the stage.
Right. The stage.
Samantha had a job to do. Besides questioning her ex-husband and his side-piece.
“Yes. I’m ready.” She tried to sound confident. Cool. Not at all flustered. But her breath was shallow and quickened along with her heart rate.
The stage was empty now, but she’d soon be standing in front of that microphone. Under those lights. Promoting a good cause and inevitably fielding questions about a case she hadn’t the slightest clue how to crack. Yet.
She’d find the killer eventually, but reporters never wanted “eventually” for an answer. Neither did the people of this town. They wanted immediate results. And they deserved answers.
Maybe she simply wasn’t the person who could give them what they needed.
Maybe they deserved better than her.
“We’re about to begin,” the woman said. “Follow me this way, please.”
Samantha hurried to follow, focusing on her breath and the shoulders of the woman in front of her while ignoring the surrounding crowd.
But she couldn’t quiet the doubt in her head or the too-familiar voice behind her, the one she wished she never had to hear again.
“Good luck!”
* * *
Erin stood in front of the glass doors and peered inside. She couldn’t believe it. Only four days after that fire, Addie had this place back up and running. And almost exactly four days from the moment she arrived in town, Erin was once again somewhere she probably shouldn’t be.
This time, Samantha wasn’t here to stop her.
After all her errands and after she’d settled up with Frank at the repair shop, Erin had swung in at the police station to thank Samantha for hanging on to the key… and to file a vandalism complaint against Addie. But the secretary told her Samantha had left early for a charity event. Some election ass-kissing, Erin figured.
She’d seen the campaign signs around town, but she couldn’t figure out why anyone, much less Samantha, would want to be police chief here. It wasn’t exactly a prestigious gig.
But Samantha was a Keller and an Ardoin by marriage, even if it was an ended marriage. Erin always had the impression that Samantha wasn’t anything like the rest of her family, but she could have misjudged her. She was usually pretty spot-on in her assessments of people, but maybe Erin was blinded by… something.
She decided to blame the tight pants if she turned out to be this far off the mark, and Samantha really was a Keller through and through.
Erin didn’t make it two feet inside the front doors when Addie appeared out of thin air. Her fists were pressed against her hips, one fist holding a hot pink towel that matched her blouse. The turquoise apron was out-of-control bright, but Erin kind of loved it. She secretly loved every outrageous detail about this place, but she’d never admit it to Addie.
“You’ve got some nerve, you know that?”
“Me?” Erin couldn’t believe Addie was callingherout whenshewas the one who had some explaining to do. And, if Erin had anything to say about it, a tire replacement to pay for. “I came in here for a sandwich. You’re the one who’s got nerve.”
“Girl, what are you talking about? This ismyrestaurant.”
“I know that. And that wasmytire. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
“Tire? What tire?” Addie shifted from anger to confusion to mama-bear-concern in a matter of seconds. “You been out in that sun too long? Heat index was dang near a hundred and ten earlier. You had any water today?” She pointed at a counter stool and swiveled it toward Erin. “Sit. Theresa, get me a glass of water!”
“I don’t need a water,” Erin insisted, but she sat on the stool, anyway. “Just a BLT to-go and an apology.”
And maybe a check for damages.
Addie frowned. “Your grandpa would kill me if I didn’t make sure you were all right, so you’re gonna sit here and drink this water, so he doesn’t haunt my butt.”
“No one’s haunting you,” said Erin. “That’s just your conscience.”
