Nickeled-And-Dimed to Death (8 page)

“I can imagine.” Gran picked up a slice of bacon and examined it. “He always hated getting dirty.” She crunched the crispy strip. “And he purely cannot abide having his hair messed up.”

Since neither of us could think of anything more to say on the matter of Boone’s arrest, Gran asked me about my evening with Noah. I assured her that I had gotten what I wanted—a new business contact and big fat order. She seemed really happy that I’d had to leave Noah early, even if it meant my friend was in trouble.

As Gran gathered up our dirty plates and took them to the sink, she said, “I just hope you won’t be fooled by Noah’s charm.”

“Of course not.” I deposited the butter and syrup inside the refrigerator door. I crossed my fingers. “I’m only interested in Noah as a friend.”

“Right.” Gran’s tone was skeptical. “And I have an arch in St. Louis I can sell you.”

“It’s the truth,” I protested, backing out of the room so I could stop lying to my grandmother. “I just want to bury the hatchet and be pals again.”

“In that case”—she nodded to the table where I had laid my cell—“you better not answer your phone.”

I glanced down. Noah’s name was glowing in the center of the little window and my cell was vibrating. As per Chief Kincaid’s rules, I had turned off the ringer when I was in the police station the night before and had never turned the sound back on.

Stepping toward the table, I said, “I’ll take this in my room.”

Gran frowned. “Don’t answer it. Maybe he’ll go away.”

“I need to thank him for introducing me to his friend.” It was a good thing she didn’t know that my heart was beating faster and a little zing was buzzing up my spine at the memory of our dancing together.

“Leave the phone there and step away.” Gran made a grab for the cell.

Snatching up the tiny rectangle just before her fingers closed around it, I scooted backward and hurried out of the kitchen, saying over my shoulder, “Just this one time.”

CHAPTER 8

N
oah had slept poorly, tossing and turning and trying to find a comfortable spot. Which should have been a damn sight easier to do, considering the Tempur-Pedic mattress and ridiculously expensive sheets the decorator had insisted he needed in order to get a good night’s rest. Too bad the woman hadn’t factored in the thoughts of Dev that had kept him awake. He’d alternated between staring at the ceiling and watching the numbers change on his bedside clock. By six a.m. he was already dressed in his workout clothes and lifting weights. At this rate, he’d be muscle-bound by summer.

According to the radio announcer, today would be bright and shiny—a promise that springtime was around the corner. The cold, rain, and snow they’d been having during all of March made people think nicer weather would never arrive. During the last few weeks, the Underwood clinic had been filled with patients fighting colds, flu, and pneumonia.

Not that the below-average temperatures caused these illnesses, but Noah believed that the seasonal depression that so many Shadow Benders were feeling was negatively affecting their health. Maybe the improved forecast would lift everyone’s spirits. The medication and care that he provided could do only so much; the rest depended on the person’s attitude, lifestyle, and emotional state.

The good weather forecast had momentarily improved Noah’s mood, but as he worked out, he returned to brooding about Dev’s actions the night before. One minute she was laughing and joking with him, and the next minute she was gone. He felt as if he’d been sucker-punched.

Having Dev in his arms on the dance floor had been incredible. During their long years apart, he’d forgotten how soft she was, and when her curves pressed against him, it had made him want to find the nearest bedroom. He’d envisioned stripping off her pretty dress, arranging her gorgeous hair around her shoulders, and making love to her all night long. The last thing he wanted to do was stop dancing, but he knew he had to release her and put some distance between them before he lost all control.

Then, later, when they were lining up the items for the auction, it had seemed like old times. It had made him think back to all the high school events they’d planned and put on together—the play rehearsals, pep rallies, and homecomings that had marked their time as a couple.

So why had Dev run away? What kind of emergency could she have had? It couldn’t be a medical one. As soon as he’d received her message, Noah had called the hospital. And with the nearest urgent-care clinic sixty miles away, the county emergency room was the only choice the locals had for after-hours illnesses and accidents.

The ER clerk had told Noah that there hadn’t been any sign of Birdie Sinclair, Boone St. Onge, or Poppy Kincaid. And Noah knew Dev had no other family or close friends in town. At a loss for what else could have happened, he had tried to phone her, but, as usual, the call went to her voice mail.

At the sound of her recorded message, a weight had settled on his chest. Was she avoiding him again? Maybe as soon as she’d gotten the basket order from Oakley, she had called someone to pick her up. Had she really just been using him?

With a sinking feeling, Noah had decided that was it. She’d gotten the business contact she wanted and disappeared. He couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t as if she’d pretended she was going out with him for any other reason. Still, it hurt.

The dance had been nearly over when he’d learned she’d left, and Noah had been able to leave soon afterward. Zizi and Winnie had given him sympathetic looks as he said his good-byes, but no one else seemed to notice that he’d been dumped. No one, that is, except the redhead who’d begged for a lift home. She’d claimed that her date was drunk and she was afraid to get in a car with him.

There was no way to turn down her request without being a jerk. Too bad the woman had thrown a fit when Noah dropped her off and refused to go inside with her. Her cursing would have made a rapper blush.

It had been tough enough listening to the woman’s mindless chatter on the ten-minute trip from the country club to her house without dealing with her comments about his manhood—or lack thereof. Especially when all he could think about was Dev.

It had been even tougher ignoring the voice inside his head that insisted he drive to Dev’s house, pound on the door until she opened it, and demand to know why she’d taken off without an explanation. He wanted to tell her how much he still cared for her. How much he’d missed her the past thirteen years. And how much he wanted them to try again.

Intellectually, he knew it was better to cool off before he spoke to Dev, so he could maintain his image as the imperturbable physician. But in his heart, he was tempted to do something so out of character that she’d have to take notice. In the end, he’d chickened out. Years of acting like the responsible and unemotional town doctor had been too much to overcome.

Even as Noah had made the decision not to confront Dev, he’d berated himself for being such a wuss. If he didn’t show her that he’d changed, he would never get her back. Since he’d broken up with her in high school, relationships had never worked for him.

One reason for their failure was his detachment. In the past, he hadn’t cared when the women he dated called him cold and distant. But he knew that the only way to win Dev’s heart was to show the emotion he tended to keep hidden. The big question was, could he do it?

On the drive home, Noah had nearly managed to convince himself that he had done the right thing in waiting to contact Dev until the next day. That is, until he’d noticed her scarf stuck between the passenger seat and the console. As he’d picked it up, he’d caught a whiff of her perfume. It was the same one she’d used in high school, Chanel’s Cristalle. Its crisp yet sweet scent brought his desire for her rushing back.

When Noah had slammed through his front door a few minutes later, Lucky had been waiting for him in the foyer. But Noah’s body language must have scared the little dog, because instead of his usual barking and tail-wagging greeting, the Chihuahua had cocked his head, then almost sighed and silently led Noah into the bedroom.

Now, while Noah finished up his last set of lifts and headed to the kitchen for breakfast, Lucky followed him. The dog had already had his morning constitutional, but sat patiently waiting for Noah to dish out his canned food and fill his water bowl.

Once Noah had fed Lucky, started the coffeemaker, and turned on the radio, he grabbed the box of Cocoa Puffs from his cupboard. As a child, his mother had never allowed sugary cereals in their house, and Noah’s loathing for dry, nutritional twigs and flakes hadn’t abated in the years he’d been on his own. This was his secret indulgence and he wasn’t giving it up any time soon.

While he ate, Noah flipped through the Sunday paper. The local news would be on in ten minutes. He opened the comics section, but as he tried to find humor in the cartoon strips, the radio played Freddy Fender singing about some woman making him blue, and Noah crumpled up the funnies and threw them across the room.

Lucky, thinking it was a game, ran over to the corner, fetched the paper ball, and laid it at Noah’s feet. When his master didn’t immediately respond, the Chihuahua nudged the ball closer and whimpered.

Glancing at the little dog, Noah patted his head and said absently, “Good boy.”

Lucky quivered with happiness.

“Hey, if you weren’t fixed and you wanted to get a girl dog to like you, what would you do?”

The Chihuahua barked.

“So you think I should talk to her.” Noah took a drink from his mug. “But what if she refuses to talk to me? In fact, what if she runs away?”

Lucky moved closer to Noah, leaned against his leg, and barked again.

“I should be persistent?” Noah reached down and scratched the dog behind his ears, then straightened and took another thoughtful sip of coffee.

The Chihuahua’s expression was mournful, and he leapt up on Noah’s lap.

“I shouldn’t let her avoid me.” Noah quirked his mouth. “I figured as much.”

The dog exhaled noisily.

“But if she doesn’t want to see me, maybe I should honor her wishes.” Noah’s tone was stubborn. “After all, I’ve showed her I’m interested. If she’s not, maybe I should just back off and leave her alone.”

Lucky yipped, jumped to the floor, and sat facing away from Noah.

“Okay.” Noah thought back to the good parts of the previous evening. “You’re right. I should try at least once more. She probably still doesn’t trust me, considering the way things ended last time.”

Noah rose from his seat, took a Frosty Paws from the freezer, and flipped the treat to Lucky. While the Chihuahua devoured the doggie ice cream, Noah put his cereal bowl and mug in the dishwasher.

As he was closing the appliance door, the local news came on the radio and the announcer said, “Last night, Shadow Bend resident Elise Whitmore was found dead in her home. Police Chief Eldridge Kincaid stated that it’s believed foul play was involved and a suspect is in custody.”

Noah froze in shock. Elise had been a patient of his. Had she interrupted a burglar? She’d mentioned that she was getting a divorce and her husband wasn’t taking the situation well. Could her soon-to-be ex have killed her?

Before Noah could speculate further, the newscaster continued. “Although Chief Kincaid refused to reveal the suspect’s name, an inside source claims that local attorney Boone St. Onge found Ms. Whitmore’s body and has been detained, pending further investigation.”

“Well, damn!” Noah hit the counter, startling Lucky, who ran from the room.

That was why Dev had left so abruptly last night. St. Onge must have called her down to the police station, which also explained why she hadn’t answered her phone. Chief Kincaid was notorious for his rule that all personal cells be silenced inside the PD.

Dev was fully aware that Noah and St. Onge had never been friends. She was probably afraid that Noah wouldn’t be sympathetic. But was she right? Noah didn’t like St. Onge, but he couldn’t imagine him killing anyone. And if he had, he was too smooth an operator to get caught.

Noah smiled, snatched up the kitchen phone, and punched in Dev’s number.

CHAPTER 9

C
lutching my cell, I escaped into my bedroom before answering Noah’s call. I closed the door just as Gran’s curious face appeared on the other side of the threshold. Figuring she would have her ear pressed to the keyhole, I moved to the other side of the room before I pushed the On button and said, “Hello.”

“Good morning, Dev.” Noah’s voice was smoother than a really good chocolate milkshake—and probably just as bad for me.

It was a little unnerving when he didn’t say anything more—Noah wasn’t generally the strong, silent type—so I hastily said, “How are you? Did you . . .” I trailed off, fairly certain that he was angry with me for deserting him last night. But had he called me just to give me the cold shoulder? No. Come to think about it, I knew what he wanted. Too bad it was a word that didn’t come easily to me. “Uh. I suppose I owe you an apology.”

“Five minutes ago, I would have said yes.” Noah’s tone was light. “But now that I’ve heard the local newscast, I completely understand.”

“Thank you.” I hadn’t been expecting that. For a moment, I savored the fact that Noah wasn’t upset with me. “That’s really nice of you.”

“You’re welcome. So—”

“Wait a minute,” I interrupted him as the full implication of what he’d just said hit me. “What exactly did you hear on the news?”

“That St. Onge is in custody for the murder of Elise Whitmore.”

“Damn it all to hell!” Poppy and I had blown it. We should have woken up Boone’s parents last night after all. “They said that on the radio? That he’s been arrested? But Chief Kincaid assured me that they weren’t releasing his name.”

“The chief stated that a suspect had been apprehended and was being held for questioning,” Noah corrected. “The announcer said that the information came from an anonymous tip from an inside source.”

“Thank goodness!” I leaned against the wall and sank to the floor, relieved that at least it hadn’t been Chief Kincaid who’d blabbed. “Poppy would have never forgiven her dad if he was the one who leaked the info.”