Baker’s Law (10 page)

Hill followed her over to the oven. “What does your boyfriend think about it?”

She nearly dropped the tray of hot cupcakes. “Boyfriend?”

“The chief.” The boy’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “He didn’t look too happy when he was
here last.”

Marissa snorted. “He’s not my boyfriend. I barely know the man.”

“Oh. The way he watched you…” Hill knocked an oven mitt off the counter, then bent
to pick it back up. “Sorry, I just thought…”

“Jax, um, Chief Carlisle just moved back to town.” Marissa busied herself putting
the cupcakes on the cooling rack. “We went to school together, but we didn’t
know
each other. I knew him, everyone knew him. But I had no idea he knew who I was.”
Her shoulders stiffened. “And I don’t know why I told you that. Just ignore that last
little bit.” Marissa was losing her mind. Talking to a teenager—one she barely knew—about
Jax. It was a good thing she and Cherry were going to the Blue Spur after work. She
needed to be around people. Lots of people. Grown-up people. She needed to relax and
have a good time and forget she was lonely.

She tried to let herself get in the zone as she frosted the cooled cupcakes, but Marissa
kept running over her conversation with Hill. She tried to picture Jax watching her.
That was just silly. Like she’d told Hill, she barely knew Jax. Most of her memories
involved him acting like a self-absorbed teenager nearly twenty years earlier. People
changed, matured. She, however, wasn’t that far from the quiet teenager who’d prayed
to go as unnoticed as possible throughout high school.

Adulthood had given her some confidence, but other than in her business, she often
wanted to get through her life without any excess notice. It was so much easier being
invisible to folks.

The timer on the stove chirped for the last batch. “Hill, can you get those?” she
asked as she headed to the walk-in freezer with the ones she’d just finished.

When she stepped back, Hill had set the cupcakes on the rack and was holding something
out to her.

“What’s this?”

“My last report card.”

Marissa’s eyebrows rose as she unfolded the paper. Hill had As and Bs. His lowest
grade was an eighty-four in trigonometry. She gave a low whistle. “I don’t think I
ever got grades this good.” Pride filled her—not that she had any reason for it. “That’s
awesome.” She chucked him on the shoulder, then handed him back the paper, trying
not to make a bigger deal about it because she didn’t think his face could turn redder
or his shoulders hunch over farther.

Instead she went back to business and grabbed a rack of the orange crème cupcakes
to fill in the remainder of the case. As she put the last one in, there was a heavy
knock on the glass.

She hurried to the front. “Jax?” she said as she opened the door. “You’re not trying
to get special treatment from the owner are you?” She glanced at her watch. “We don’t
open for another thirty minutes.” She started to smile until she saw how he stared
past her to Hill, who had just walked to the front with napkins to refill the dispensers.

“What’s he doing here?” Jax asked.

Her shoulder’s stiffened. “Like I told you last night, he works here.”

“Since when?” He shifted into his cop stance, hands on his hips, shoulders and jaw
squared.

She glared at him. “Did you need something,
Chief?
The shop opens in a few minutes.”

Marissa wasn’t going to give him any info where the kid was concerned. He’d have to
do a little digging on his own to see what was up with the boy. “I wanted to make
sure my mother wasn’t too horrible.” He spouted the first thing that came to mind.
Forget the fact that he’d come over to ask her out to dinner after she got off work.

“Your mother?” She frowned up at him.

“This morning, at the club.”

She shook her head. “Typical mother-of-the-bride. And well, Bunny is Bunny.” She shrugged
and grabbed the handle of the door. “Thanks for checking on me. See ya.” She pulled
the door closed.

He could’ve stopped her, but what else could he say? His sorry excuses were getting
depressing.
Shit or get off the pot,
Old Man Carlisle would tell him. It was time to cut his losses where she was concerned.
It wouldn’t stop him from doing his job, though. But with her, he was getting nowhere
on the kid and he could only ask so many times and get a lie or non-answer. He tipped
his hat, nodded his goodbyes through the glass and walked back to his SUV—cursing
himself every step of the way.

How was it that some woman he hadn’t seen since he was eighteen could turn him all
around? He’d never had issues with women back in Austin. Hell, he’d left a broken
heart or two when he’d moved back to Oak Hollow. But ten minutes back home and he
was running around like a damned fool. He shook his head as he climbed behind the
wheel and headed back to the station.

He pushed through the door and was greeted by a nasty stench and an empty front desk.
“Macey? Everything okay?”

Macey came running from the back of the station. “Jax, I mean, Chief. Sorry.” She
was wiping her hands on the front of her shirt. “I burned a pot of coffee.”

“Is that what the smell is?” Jax propped the door open.

Macey sat at the front desk. “Grandpop never let me near the kitchenette when he was
chief.” She gave a little sniff. “He said I was a food jinx.”

Jax tried not to laugh. “Don’t worry about it.” He patted her on the shoulder. He
started to head back to his office, but stopped. “How long ago did you graduate high
school?”

“Three years ago, why?”

“Do you recall a boy named Hill? Would have been a freshman.”

“Hill? Hmm, doesn’t sound familiar.” Macey leaned back in her chair. “I don’t remember.
Why, is he in some kind of trouble?”

Nothing that he wanted to share just yet. He shook his head.

“Do you want me to ask around?”

He waved off her comment. “It’s not that big a deal.”

Jax spent the rest of Saturday going out to calls and working on paperwork at his
desk. It was well after six, and half an hour into the evening officers’ shift by
the time Jax was ready to call it a day. He walked out to the front of the station
to find Otto along with two guys they’d gone to high school with sitting on the dispatcher’s
desk. Ada was flirting as hard as her seventy-year-old heart would allow. And God
bless them, the men were flirting back with her.

“Well, if it isn’t the new chief himself.” Brad Davidson slid off the desk and saluted.
In school he’d been a stout and sturdy lineman. His belly had grown and his hair had
receded since Jax had last seen him, but his jovial smile was the same as it ever
was.

Chris Carpenter on the other hand, he looked built for a fight and ready to take anyone
on. In school he’d been on the lean side, but scrappy enough to hold his own. After
joining the army, he’d bulked up a little. Coupled with his war-hardened face, he
was one mean looking son of a bitch.

Jax shook both men’s hands. He slapped Otto on the back. “What are y’all doing here?”

“We came to take you out. To celebrate your new job.” Otto rubbed his hands together.
“We won’t take no for an answer. And just in case you try to balk, Ada here was kind
enough to guarantee she won’t be sending out any calls for you.”

“I don’t know…”

“It’s okay, Chief.” Ada nodded vigorously. “We can handle the typical Saturday night
rowdies. You deserve one night to cut loose every now and again.” She winked at him.
“You haven’t had one night off since you started on the job.”

Jax eyed his friends. It didn’t take too much persuasion. He could use his friends
to take his mind off of Marissa Llewellyn—something he hadn’t been able to do by himself.
And if he managed to unwind in the process, all the better. It’d been a hell of a
week. “So where are we headed?”

“Dinner first. Then to the Blue Spur for drinks.”

* * *

Cherry pulled Marissa’s arm as she all but dragged her into the Blue Spur. Sure, Marissa
had balked in the parking lot, but she was there now. It wasn’t like she was going
to bolt…maybe. Hadn’t she already let Cherry talk her into playing dress-up? She’d
borrowed one of her friend’s short dresses—a floral number with a swishy skirt that
hit her midthigh—and a pair of high-heeled espadrilles. She’d even let down her ever-present
ponytail and let her hair hang loose down her back.

With her free hand she kept the back of her skirt down as they shuffled through the
men waiting at the bar, toward the tables in the back corner near the stage. The house
band would play a couple of sets before the main performer, Crane Jepson, came on.
Crane was a local guy who played at the Blue Spur at least once a month despite getting
some bigger gigs across northern Texas. And Cherry had a secret little crush on him.
From what Marissa could tell, the feeling was mutual but for some reason neither had
taken any initiative.

Not that she had any room to talk. When was the last time she’d asked someone out?
Hell, when was the last time she’d spoken to a man? Jax Carlisle’s face popped into
her head. He was the first man in a long time to stir the slightest interest in her.
But he brought nothing but complications with him.

Not half as complicated as wading through the crowded bar area, though. She yelped
as a tall rangy man stepped back onto her foot. She barely heard his quick apology
as Cherry made a beeline for her favorite table.

Luckily, they found a great spot. It was still earlyish. Cherry waved at a couple
of girls seated a few tables over. She spoke so low Marissa had to lean in to hear
her even though there was no way to be heard over the din of the crowd. “That girl
is such a skank.”

“Then why are you waving at her?”

Cherry laughed. “I have to be polite.”

The pair giggled as the waitress stopped in front of them. “What’ll it be, girls?”

Cherry ordered her usual, a Shiner. Light Blonde, because she was always watching
her weight. Marissa was set to order a soda, but decided she might as well go all
out. Who knew when the next time she gave herself a night out might be? She ordered
a frozen strawberry margarita.

When the waitress left, they scooted their chairs closer together on the far side
of the table so they could hear each other and watch the room as more people filled
in.

“So.” Cherry nudged her shoulder. “Tell me why Hill is staying at your shop.”

Marissa had given her friend a quick rundown when she’d shown up at the shop that
evening to pick her up. Surprisingly, Cherry hadn’t asked too many questions. Marissa
leaned her elbows on the table. “No judging.”

Cherry shrugged. “Okay.”

“I told you I caught him breaking into my shop one night.”

“So naturally that means you keep him around?” Her voice was so loud it was a wonder
the people at the bar on the other side of the room didn’t turn and stare.

“Are you going to listen?” Marissa paused as the waitress returned with their drinks.
She took a long brain-freezing sip. “His dad ran off and left him all alone.” She
held up her hand when Cherry opened her mouth. “He’s been homeless for well over a
year now and no one from school or his neighborhood has gone to any authority to report
it. He only sneaked in—” she had to think of it as sneaking in to keep from feeling
like she’d completely lost her mind “—when it was too cold outside or if he had a
lot of homework.” The little voice in the back of her head once again screamed that
she was being foolishly naive, but her gut told her she was doing the right thing.
The inner war gave her a headache. She took another sip of her drink.

“Hill has managed to stay on the honor roll at school. All on his own. His friend
came to me and asked me to give him a job and help him out. It was the least I could
do.”

“I know how the situation with your mom affected you. Look, the fact that I’m not
jumping to call it in myself proves I trust your instincts.” Cherry sighed. “But,
the least you could do was call the police back and turn him in.”

“Turning him in would be doing something, now, wouldn’t it?” Marissa raised an eyebrow
and slowly finished off the rest of her drink.

“So now you’re frigging Mother Teresa?” Cherry shook her head and laughed, then she
drained her beer bottle. Her smile fled. “Don’t look now, but there’re two guys checking
us out.” She gave a slight motion with her head.

Marissa casually looked over her left shoulder. There were indeed two men watching
them. One with a full head of shiny—not a hair to be seen. The other had on a huge
belt buckle she’d bet her shop hadn’t come from any rodeo but from some store counter.
She turned back to her friend. “Joy.”

Cherry punched her arm. “They’re coming this way.”

Marissa set her glass down on the table with a little more force than she meant to,
but she didn’t have time to worry about it. “Come on.” She grabbed Cherry’s elbow
and led her out to the dance floor. She wended her way through the crowd with her
friend in tow. Once she’d put several sweaty bodies between them, she stopped and
turned to her friend. “They can’t talk to us if they can’t find us.”

“Smart.” Cherry nodded and swayed her hips in time to the music as she glanced over
her shoulder. “Did they follow us?”

“Not that I can tell.” Marissa matched her friend’s rhythm as they danced to country
songs from the early nineties.

“I need to sit down.” Cherry fanned herself as another song started.

They pushed their way back out of the crowd to find their table occupied by three
young women who were barely legal. “I’m going to get a drink. You want something?”
Cherry stood with her head tilted toward the bar.

“Sure. My treat.” Marissa surreptitiously reached into her bra to get the money she’d
stashed there. When her fingers hit nothing but skin she frowned. “Must have shifted.”
Cherry moved to shield her from any prying eyes as she continued to hunt for her cash.
“I can’t find it.” It wasn’t a whole lot of cash, but her ID was wrapped up in the
middle of it.