Double Take (18 page)

Izzie shrugged. “That sex fad? What about it?”

“She invented it.”

Rubbing her forehead, Lindsey sighed and said, “I didn’t invent it. I just studied it.”

“I mean, she’s the one who did the study that made it so popular in the news lately.”

Izzie smiled in visible delight. “That is
so
boss! Can you show me how to do it?”

“What is this Thinkgasm, Dr. Smith?” Nick asked.

“Remember when I dragged you to that dinner-theater production of
The Music Man?
” Noelle asked her husband. “Where the guy tells the kids they need to learn via the think method. If they think they can play music, they will. It’s similar to that.”

“I’m pretty sure I was asleep by that point in the musical,” Mark said, earning a glare. “Sorry,
Doctor
Smith.”

“Okay, subject change, right now,” Mike said, his tone brooking no argument. “This is not the time or the place.”

The others fell silent. She could have kissed him right there in the middle of the diner. He’d taken charge and immediately set out to protect her, as always. What on earth she’d ever done right in her life to deserve meeting him, she honestly had no idea.

She was about to open her mouth to thank him, but before she could do it, she heard a male voice from behind her. And the words died in her mouth.

“Doctor, huh? I knew there was somethin’ funny about you.”

She jerked around and looked up to see Mike’s deputy, the obnoxious Ollie Dickinson, standing right behind her chair. He wore a self-satisfied smirk, one that had been on his face every single time she’d laid eyes on the man.

Dear God, how much did he overhear?

Reminding herself not to panic, she forced herself to offer the obnoxious man a polite nod. How much damage could he do, even if he had heard anything? The school year was almost over—she only had four more days after Monday’s holiday. Then she’d be out of here, no longer around to be hurt by any gossip he chose to impart.

Of course, Mike and Callie would both still be.

Damn it.

Mike pushed his chair back and slowly rose to his feet. “Officer Dickinson. Is there a problem?”

Mike’s body was tight and hard, from stiff shoulders down to his clenched hands. Tension rolled off him, and she hoped he was able to keep his cool.

“No problem, Chief,” the other officer said, lazy and insolent. “I was just stopping by to get something to eat and noticed you and
Doctor
Smith sitting together all nice and cozy. Figured I’d come over and say hey.”

“I’m having dinner with my family,” Mike said.

The man looked around. As if realizing their cousin was facing a foe, Mark and Nick both slowly rose to their feet, too.

Good lord, what a sight. Lindsey held her breath, realizing the entire diner was falling quiet. Conversations halted, forks stopped tinkling, dishes weren’t being plunked down. Everyone in the place was watching the scene unfolding at their table. She couldn’t say whether that was because they could all sense the drama, or because the sight of those three Santori men, standing shoulder to shoulder, tall and heart-stoppingly handsome, was so incredibly dramatic.

Of course, for every woman in the room, it was probably sheer covetous appreciation that made them stare. Because if there had ever been three finer male specimens in one place before, she’d certainly never seen them.

Ollie wasn’t stupid enough to continue playing his game of let’s-taunt-the-boss. He took a step back, nodding at Mike and said, “Well, guess I’ll get my dinner and head to the station.”

“You do that,” said Mike with a tone so sharp he could probably bite through a steel plate.

The other man nodded once, turned and walked toward the front counter. Mike slowly dropped into his seat again, and his cousins did the same. The three of them remained silent, all watching the big man at the front counter, as if waiting for him to make one wrong move. Although the noise picked up around them, the tension remained at their table. Lindsey, Noelle and Izzie didn’t speak, all aware their men were on edge.

After a minute or two, Ollie apparently changed his mind about dinner. He said something to the waitress and headed for the door. He did not look in their direction. She suspected he’d felt the burning heat of those stares.

When he was gone, the tension eased. It was still a long moment before Mike said, “I’m so sorry, Lindsey.”

“Me, too,” said Noelle. “I didn’t realize you were living incognito, but I suspect I understand why.”

“Why?” asked Izzie.

“I’m sure the good people of this town wouldn’t be happy that the new schoolteacher is...who she is,” Noelle explained in a thick whisper.

“Exactly,” Lindsey said, feeling a little numb. To be honest, she didn’t give a damn what anybody on Wild Boar thought of her. But she did care what they thought of Mike, and of Callie.

She had to believe, though, that people wouldn’t be so unreasonable as to hold her scandalous reputation against those closest to her. Then again, people were very protective of their kids. They might read PhD, and majors in biology and chemistry after her name...but put that three-letter word,
s-e-x,
near it, too, and they flipped out.

“I need to get out of here,” she said. She hadn’t eaten anything, hadn’t even had a chance to order, but, frankly, she’d lost her appetite.

“Let me take you home,” Mike said.

“It’s okay, there’s no need.”

“Yeah, Lindsey, there is a need,” he insisted. He said to his family members, “I’m sorry, but you guys have to be on the ferry in forty minutes anyway. Can you find your way back to it?”

“Of course,” Nick said. He got up, as did Mark, and they each reached out and clasped Lindsey’s hand, one after the other. Their wives stood, too, offering her hugs.

Murmuring goodbye, Lindsey let Mike lead her out of the diner. She sensed they were drawing a lot of scrutiny. While she didn’t recognize any faces, she had no doubt somebody from the island was eating here tonight. And even if they weren’t, the staff certainly knew Mike. If they didn’t recognize her yet, it wouldn’t take long before they found out who she was.

Mike didn’t seem to care. He kept an arm around her waist, as if daring anyone to say a word. No one did, including her and Mike, who were silent all the way home.

Once they got there, Lindsey no longer wanted to pull out their romantic picnic. She’d lost her appetite for that, too. Instead, she wondered if, in her desire to help her friend keep her job, she’d just made things worse. Her heart would break if Callie paid the price for Lindsey’s storied background.

And if it hurt Mike... If he lost his job and ended up going back to Chicago, back to the police department, to a position in which he risked his life every damn day, well, she would absolutely never forgive herself. Never.

She was just tired. So very tired. Keeping all the balls up in the air, being on the roller coaster of emotions she’d been riding for months—it was all getting to her. It was early, barely seven o’clock, yet she just wanted to crawl into bed with Mike and have the kind of sex that would make days like today fade into utter insignificance.

And Mike, thankfully, was very happy to oblige her.

10

T
HE
FIRST
HINT
Mike got that Ollie Dickinson had shot off his mouth came Friday afternoon. He’d been on tenterhooks all week, wondering what the jackass might have done. After several days had gone by, he’d begun to let down his guard, assuming it had blown over. Lindsey had believed the same.

Now, though, he suspected they’d been wrong.

It was around noon, the office was quiet, a lazy day with nothing moving except the dust motes floating in the air. The 911 dispatcher who ran the switchboard was on her lunch break, and one of his other officers was fielding any calls that came in.

Outside, the streets were calm, the summer people who’d come over for the holiday weekend gone for the time being. They’d return again en masse as soon as their kids got out of school, and then the streets would be crowded seven days a week. But for now, at least, Wild Boar got a respite Monday through Friday.

Which was why it was strange to see a news vehicle drive up Main Street and park in the municipal lot. He spotted it out of his window, and immediately tensed up.

Ollie had been even more cocky than usual the past couple of days. Mike had asked him if they had a problem, and the other officer had sworn they did not, but Mike hadn’t believed him.

Officer Dickinson might be as dumb as the brick wall he resembled, but even he could run an internet search. Once he had overheard that Lindsey was a doctor, and figured out she’d kept that a secret from others on the island, his curiosity must have been raised. He’d seemed a little too smug lately, and Mike had spotted him standing on the corner, talking to Mrs. Franklin the night before. The only thing that gave Mike hope Ollie hadn’t discovered anything was the fact that Mrs. Franklin hadn’t stormed into his office demanding information.

But now this. The Channel 8 news truck had parked, and a cameraman and reporter were climbing out of it. It wasn’t the national news, far from it, just a rinky-dink station from out of Grand Rapids. Still, they’d made some effort to come across on the ferry. It was too early in the season for any locals-flock-to-the-island feel-good stories; obviously they were looking for something really juicy.

Hoping his instincts were wrong, Mike left his office and walked outside. He spotted several people peeking out from storefronts, and a couple had come outside to see what was going on.

He crossed the street, keeping a friendly expression on his face by sheer force of will as he approached the news crew. “Afternoon, folks, is there something I can do for you?”

The reporter nodded. “Yes, we’re trying to find a local resident, a Dr. Lindsey Smith?”

He clenched his teeth. “Why is that?”

“We have information that she’s here and we’d like to get her comment on a news story. Can you tell us how to find her?”

“Nope. That I cannot do.”

Would not do. Same difference.

He suspected the youthful-looking reporter was a little savvier than her age would indicate. She realized he was hiding something and snapped her fingers at her cameraman.

“Are you Chief Santori?”

“I am. But do not turn that camera on me, ma’am. I’m not interested in any interviews.”

The camera came on anyway. The reporter stuck the microphone in his face. “Chief Santori, is it true that Dr. Lindsey Smith, inventor of the Thinkgasm method, is hiding out here in your little town?”

He stared at her, not looking at the camera, or its operator, just at her. Hoping she could see exactly what he wanted to say—but wouldn’t—he forced a tight smile, muttered, “No comment,” then spun around and walked away.

He went into his office, picked up the phone and called the school. The secretary at the front desk greeted him cheerfully. When he apologized for calling, she reminded him that because today had been the last day of school, the students had gotten out early. They’d just left. Apparently, so had Lindsey.

Thank heaven for small favors. Her job was over, she was no longer a substitute teacher. If her real identity was discovered, at least she wouldn’t have to face that ordeal. He hated to suspect the parents or administrators would turn on her, but you just never knew.

Glancing out the window, he noticed the newspeople were talking to Angie from the coffee shop, and he sent up a prayer that she was the good-natured, discreet person he’d always suspected her to be. He stepped outside. Angie caught his attention from across the street, not being obvious about it, and offered him a sly wink. The reporter, busy fiddling with her microphone, didn’t notice. Nor did she look up when Angie jerked her thumb toward Mike’s SUV, telling him to go.

He went.

Driving down to Lindsey’s place, hoping she’d gone straight home after school, he was relieved to find her car in the driveway. He roared up the drive, pulling in behind her car.

Hopping out, he darted up the outside steps and pushed the door open without knocking. “Lindsey?”

She came out of the bedroom, wide-eyed. “Mike? What are you doing here?”

“I came to warn you. It appears Ollie did some digging and put the media on your tail. There’s a news crew from Grand Rapids in town.”

“Oh, God,” she groaned, throwing herself down on the couch.

He went over and sat beside her, taking her into his arms. “It’s going to be okay.”

“It’s never going to be okay,” she said, sounding exhausted, mentally and physically. “This nightmare just doesn’t end. When are my fifteen minutes of fame going to be over?”

“Look, you can duck the reporters. Even if they find out where you were working, school’s out...there’s nothing for them to attack you with.”

She seemed so hopeful. “Really?”

“Definitely,” he said, sure he was right.

Not thirty seconds later he heard the cars pulling up outside. And realized he’d been very,
very
wrong.

“Stay here,” he told her, going to the front window and separating the curtains to gaze out. His heart sank when he recognized the Channel 8 news van. But what truly infuriated him was the vehicle leading the way—a squad car driven by Ollie Dickinson.

“That son of a bitch!”

It only got worse. Because when Ollie parked the car and got out, the passenger-side door opened, as well. Mrs. Franklin, looking both disapproving and utterly thrilled, stepped onto the driveway. “I don’t believe this.”

Lindsey joined him at the window. She didn’t cry, didn’t rant, she merely sighed heavily, as if this was exactly the moment she’d been waiting to happen all along.

She walked toward the door. “Lindsey, don’t.”

“I might as well face the music now. They’re not going to leave until I give them something. Might as well just get it over with.”

He grabbed her arm. “You don’t have to do this. I’ll...I’ll charge them with trespassing.”

“It’s over, Mike. I need to do it.” She lifted a hand and cupped his cheek, smiling up at him. “Thanks for trying so hard to be my knight in shining armor.”

“That armor’s a little tarnished right now.”

“Don’t you dare blame yourself. To be honest, this might be the best thing that could have happened.”

“I think Ollie falling off the ferry and sinking to the bottom of the lake would have been the best thing that could have happened.”

That got a tiny smile out of her, but it quickly faded. “It’s time to remember who I really am and do what I do best. I’ve got to be strong enough to take care of myself. Just as I wrote in my dissertation, women need to take things into their own hands, so to speak.”

He didn’t even crack a smile at her weak joke, too worried about her to find any humor in the situation. Unable to come up with anything that would stop her, he watched her walk away, noting the stiffness of her spine, and finding her strength as amazing and remarkable as the woman herself.

He followed her, joining her at the door. The moment she pushed it open, the reporter called, “Dr. Smith! Have you really been hiding out here on Wild Boar Island for the past few months?”

“Yes, she has,” Ollie said, a big, dopey grin on his face.

Mike’s last strand of patience with the man just snapped. He darted down the steps, went up to his officer and grabbed him by the front of the shirt. “Get in your car and go back to town, Officer Dickinson. That’s an order. Your presence here is not required.”

Ollie looked at Mrs. Franklin as if he expected her to rescue him. The woman stepped up. “Officer Dickinson is the only one who seems to understand his duty to our town. He brought this ugliness to me and is the one who will handle this investigation.”

Mike had had enough of the woman, too. He moved close to her. “What investigation? There is no investigation. There has been no crime!”

“Of course there has. That woman is in hiding.”

Feeling as though he was talking to a wall, a really dense one, he swung around to the reporter. “Would you please inform Mrs. Franklin that you are not here chasing a criminal?”

The young woman appeared confused, gazing back and forth between them. “Well, no, of course she’s not a criminal. She’s famous. I’m just trying to find out why somebody who’s so popular has spent the last two months twiddling her thumbs here on Wild Boar Island when she could be on any talk show in the country.”

Mrs. Franklin’s jaw unhinged. So did Ollie’s. They both looked like they’d been doused with ice water.

Mike couldn’t keep his mouth shut, and addressed all of them. “Do any of you have any comprehension that you’re tormenting a smart, decent, loving woman whose only crime was wanting to come here and help her oldest friend? You’re all pathetic.”

The reporter had the grace to look away. The others, well, he supposed grace was too much to ask of them.

“Now, I repeat, Officer Dickinson, get back in your car, get out of here and take her—” he gestured toward Mrs. Franklin “—with you.”

She gifted him with another of her sourpuss glares. “You might be giving the orders for now, Mr. Santori, but don’t expect to do so for long!”

Lindsey, who’d been watching from the porch, flew down the steps and intruded. “This has nothing to do with him. He came out here to tell me some strangers were asking about me in town, that’s all. Chief Santori should be left out of this.”

“Oh, sure, she’s taking up for her boyfriend,” said Ollie.

Sparks practically flew from her ears. She stalked toward the man, enraged and brilliant, and got right in his face. “I’m going to be going into town today and filing a sexual-harassment suit against you.”

Mrs. Franklin looked stunned. Ollie just looked ready to piss his pants.

“This man is a menace,” she snapped, staring down Mrs. Franklin. “He’s harassed me and other women in this community.”

“Now, listen here, lady, you just mistook friendliness for something it wasn’t,” Ollie said, the explanation sounding pathetic and weak.

Lindsey wasn’t finished. “Two of the other teachers at the school have told me he’s pulled them over for no other reason than to hit on them. I, for one, am not going to allow him to continue such behavior, and I’ll be filing a complaint.”

The president of the town council seemed properly scandalized, the reporter interested.

Ollie tried to explain, but Mrs. Franklin, perhaps noticing the cameraman lift his camera, cut off his explanations. “That will be all, Ollie. You can take me back into town, and together, we’ll be stopping by to visit your uncle. I suspect he’ll have something to say about this behavior.”

Huh. Mike suddenly remembered something. Mrs. Franklin, long a widow, was supposedly very friendly with Ollie’s uncle, the former chief. He had to wonder if the woman had been doing some meddling, trying to get her boyfriend’s nephew the job he’d wanted but had been denied.

But she wasn’t entirely distracted by Ollie’s bad behavior. Casting a sour look at Mike, she said, “I expect the council will be calling you to come in to make a full report.”

“I’ll give it its due attention,” he said with a deliberate eye roll, watching as the utterly unlikable duo got into the car and drove away. Frankly, he didn’t give a damn about her, the council, Ollie, or his job. He just wanted Lindsey to be okay.

He turned to tell her that, to let her know he’d be right there by her side throughout this ordeal, but saw to his surprise that she was no longer standing beside him on the lawn. Instead, she was on the porch, opening the door and ushering in the reporter and her cameraman. She had a smile on her face—a weak, rather forced one—but it was full of determination.

Lindsey had finally reached some point of no return. She was taking control of the situation that had been controlling her for months.

He went up the steps. She stood in the doorway.

“Are you all right?”

“I’ll be fine, Mike. This is long overdue.”

“Do you need me to stay?”

“No. Thank you, for everything, but I’ve got to do this last part on my own.”

He saw that steel in her, the unmistakable strength, and knew she was right. She had to face the challenge and be the one to beat it. Although it was hard to not keep fighting for her, to not be her protector, he had to let her go. So, with a nod and a brush of his lips on her temple, he spun around, walked down the steps and drove away.

* * *

L
INDSEY
MANAGED
TO
retain her calm throughout the entire hour-long interview. She didn’t cry, she didn’t bitch, she didn’t criticize anyone—not other reporters, not her bosses. She was entirely professional, holding on to her emotions with ruthless determination. She had the bloody palms—from clenching her fists so hard—to prove it.

The young reporter was actually very nice and respectful. Once she realized Lindsey was going to give her a scoop—the real story of why the infamous sex doctor had dropped out of sight—she’d been very easy to get along with. She hadn’t exactly asked softball questions, but she’d respected Lindsey’s privacy where possible—including not asking about Mike.

All in all, Lindsey was happy with how it had gone. The local audience might be the only one who ever watched it, but she seriously doubted it. This thing might not get picked up on the national networks, but it would hit the internet—of that she was sure.