Page 31 of The Last Love Song
Chapter Eight
Zach knew thesooner he dealt with the rumors brewing on the town council, the better. That’s why, as he drove through the small Heartache downtown to Heather’s place, he talked through the approach in his head ten different ways.
It’s probably just gossip, but I need to look into some missing money during your father’s term as mayor.
He winced. Sounded accusatory.
Funds from Harvest Fest disappeared two years in a row, and council members are concerned your father was involved.
He snorted in disgust.Sounded as if he sucked at his job for not looking into the matter when he first took office.
Your dad may have stolen money from the town coffers, but don’t worry, it’s only a small fraction of how much my dad stole from stock investors.
He pounded a fist against the steering wheel. He knew damn well there was no gentle way to absorb the news your father might be a crook. Truth be told, he was having a tough time contending with the whole idea of Ted Finley as a thief. Zach had always looked up to the guy—the whole family, really. He’d seen the Finleys as having the kind of home he wanted. The typeof bonds his family lacked. The kids stuck up for each other and the parents were civic-minded members of the community who ran a thriving business that helped keep the strong town—first Finley Building Supply and later, the construction company.
He was having a hard time wrapping his head around a new view of Mayor Finley.
When he pulled into Heather’s driveway, he hadn’t found a good way to break the news. She sat on the porch swing, her silhouette made visible by the glow of light emanating through the bungalow’s front window. She didn’t move as he shut off the SUV, her attention focused on whatever she held in her hand. Her phone, he realized, noting the pale white light shining on her face from the device.
He took a moment to stare. She attracted him in a way no one else had, her sense of honor and loyalty to her family strong even though her own dreams pulled her in other directions. She’d sacrificed her own wants to help her mother, embodying all the things he’d admired in the close-knit families who made Heartache their home.
Zach shook his head. He’d been spending too much time in his office basement if he hadn’t tried getting to know her better before now. What the hell was the matter with him? Why had he waited until he knew she was leaving town?
The kiss they’d shared had been in the back of his mind all day. Every minute they’d been apart.
“Nice night for a swing,” he called as he opened the door of the SUV and stepped out.
She looked up. She wore a pink denim jacket with a cream-colored silk scarf around her neck.
“Sorry I didn’t see you. I got distracted.” She pointed to her phone. “I heard a rumor about you this afternoon, Mayor, and had to check it out for myself.”
He knew which of his family skeletons were public knowledge and which ones were buried deep, so he didn’t worry. He stepped onto the cobblestone landscaping outside the front door. Pumpkins flanked the door, perched on hay bales. He could now see she wore a sundress under the pink denim, and a worn pair of brown leather cowboy boots, which she scuffled on the stones to stop the swing.
“I’ll bet you I can tell you more than any search engine.” He dropped onto the seat beside her, weary from a day that was only going to get tougher.
“I’ll bet you can, too. But little-known fact about me? I’m not terribly patient.”
“Is that right?” He reached for her phone. “Little-known fact about me? Neither am I.”
He tried to tug the phon out of her hand, but she held on tight, laughing. He breathed in the scent of her hair, remembering the way it had driven him crazy when they’d been fishing and he’d watched the heavy red mass sway along her back as she moved.
“Wait.” She gripped his other hand to hold him off until both their hands were brushing. “I have to tell you the whole story first so you can appreciate where I’ve been hearing rumors.”
Mischief danced in her blue eyes.
And yeah, he hated himself for not confessing the news about her dad immediately. But he hadn’t expected her to have confessions of her own.
“Out with it, Finley.” He gave her a level look, but he relaxed his hold on her phone.
He didn’t let go of her other hand. If she wanted that back, she’d have to take it.
She didn’t.
“One of my students is Megan Bryer. She worked with the catering company yesterday.”
“I know who she is.” Playfulness shifted to concern. “Her father just joined the town council last spring when Tiffany McCord did. He’s a good guy. Doesn’t let Tiffany ruffle him.”
Had Heather heard rumors about the missing Harvest Festival money?
