Part 7 (1/2)
Shelby sighed, but it erupted as more of a growl. How ironic life could be. She had left her last job to get away from the pressures of a big city department with high-profile incidents and had found herself under a bigger microscope in Cristallia County than she had ever been in Milwaukee. And if she thought small town men were any different from their city counterparts, she had been wrong there, too. For every Curt Van Allen in Milwaukee there was a Marc Montoya in Shadow Bay.
And as for Deputy Jason Rody, she'd definitely have to have a talk with him. If Marc had heard the rumor of her and the doctor in her vehicle last night, then there was no doubt all the deputies, as well as half the office, had heard it, too. Gossip and rumors were the most destructive forces on earth. She had zero tolerance for both and would put a stop to this new crop immediately.
Her phone rang. ”Sheriff Cort.” Her voice sounded hard to her own ears, but she didn't care. Jason and Marc had done their best to try to steer her onto paths of their own making. She was ready to push back.
There was a short pause before the caller replied.”Good morning, Shelby. It's Ric.”
Her small world just got smaller. Speak of the devil. ”Doctor. What can I do for you?” She picked up her mug.
”I could use a relaxing evening. From the sound of your voice, you could too. I also think you could use something inside you other than milk and ice cream.”
What? Her mug slipped in her grip, and she almost dropped it. Coffee sloshed over the rim onto her desk. ”d.a.m.n it all!”
”I would have gotten the message with a simple 'no, thanks.'”
”No! Sorry, I didn't mean ... I just spilled coffee all over my desk.”
”Allow me to take you out to dinner tonight. Nothing too fancy.”
Dinner with Doc French. Well, if everyone was going to talk about her and Ric, maybe she should really give them something to talk about. ”Sure, Ric. How about seven?”
”Seven's fine. I'll pick you up. And don't worry about wearing leather and boots. I have a car.”
”Don't tell me it's a Renault. I'd be terribly disappointed if you were to stop surprising me.”
Soft laughter floated over the phone line. ”Oh, I don't think there's any danger of that. No, it's not a Renault. Listen, I know you're busy so I'll let you go. Seven, then.”
”See you then. Bye.”
G.o.d, what have I just done? d.a.m.n Marc Montoya and all men! In some perverse desire to strike back at Marc, she had just violated her number-one rule of dating. She no longer got involved with coworkers.
She furiously yanked tissues out of the box at the corner of her desk and sopped up the puddle of spilled coffee, but the memories of the past were not so easily contained. Don't get involved with coworkers. Would having had such a rule in Milwaukee have saved her? Could anything have saved her from Curt Van Allen? She doubted it. He had been like a force of nature, unstoppable in his ability to beguile her into his bed. She had thought she was in his heart as well. As a member of the force, he had been one of her idols. She had trusted him. But he had betrayed that trust when he made the most private moments of their relations.h.i.+p fodder for squad car conversation. Gossip. Lies.
When she had discovered that he had been indiscreet about their affair, she had struck back with a s.e.xual hara.s.sment complaint.
The Internal Affairs Division quickly got involved, and somehow the media got wind of the whole ugly mess. She had stuck it out with the Milwaukee Police Department for a few more years, not wanting to give up, not wanting the Curt Van Allens of the world to win, but in the end the stress had been too much to bear. She had never been able to regain the respect and credibility among her peers that she needed to do the job.
Shadow Bay was to have been her new start. Marc Montoya had stood as a symbol of new hope as well. She had so badly wanted to give love a second chance. Small town values were different. Marc would be different-innocent of all the big city guile and so-called sophistication. But it had been she who was the innocent. She knew better now. Or did she?
Hadn't she just accepted a date? Shelby wasn't quite sure why she had agreed to go out with Ric. Would she have consented to dinner if Marc hadn't angered her so just a moment before? Well, Marc wasn't going to run her life. She reached for the phone and started to punch in Ric's number. She would just cancel the date. Any excuse would do. She slammed the receiver down before the first ring completed.
No. She would not give in to her fears. Ric wasn't a coworker. And this was just dinner, nothing more. It would be a relaxing evening, and, as Ric had said, she needed one badly.* * * *
Shelby actually managed to get through the afternoon without spending every moment thinking about Ric De Chaux. The county was being flooded with photos of Kyle Carver, the homicide victim, and spots on the evening news had been arranged with the local television stations.
She actually was beginning to think that things were looking up with the case when she stepped into the small supply closet to get a new pen. She overheard a voice from the hallway. She was out of the speaker's sight, but she recognized the voice easily. Jason Rody.
”If Cameron Ford was still sheriff, you can bet we wouldn't be under this microscope.”
The voice faded as Rody moved away down the hall, but she caught one more sc.r.a.p.
”...Cam knew how to deal with the media, that's for sure.” Marc Montoya.
It was just as she had suspected. She was new to Shadow Bay, and she was a female. She had been in law enforcement for ten years, and nothing had changed from day one. Rules and regulations officially prohibited s.e.xual discrimination, but it existed. She had experienced it enough times in Milwaukee, and it was no different here.
It was just past five when Shelby stopped at Seline's desk to tell her that she'd be leaving for the evening.
The clerk tossed her head, swinging her long, dark hair over her shoulder. Seline wore a black sleeveless top that accentuated pale arms that were almost as white as her face. ”Cutting out early, huh?”
”It's been a long week.”
Seline nodded, the silver glitter on her eyelids winking as her head bobbed up and down. ”I understand. Well, enjoy your evening.”
Shelby smiled. Maybe Seline did understand, just a little. ”I'll try. Hit me on the box if you need me.”
Shelby debated long and hard on what to wear. She never liked to dress too s.e.xy on a first date. On the other hand, she wanted to look good. In the end she decided on a white camisole, a short black and white lace floral skirt, and, for modesty's sake, a black sweater. It was curve-hugging, not baggy, but it was still something to cover her bare shoulders. She carefully applied a moderate amount of makeup and topped the outfit off with her ruby pendant.
Promptly at seven she heard a car in the driveway and looked out. A clean, s.h.i.+ny, forest green SUV rolled to a stop, and Ric eased out of the vehicle with the poise and elegance of a gymnast. She opened the front door and tried to maintain a casual att.i.tude in the face of black trousers and an ivory s.h.i.+rt open at the neck that looked like pure silk. ”Hi.”
”Good evening, Shelby.”
Never did three whispered words sound so good. They drizzled over her like icing, making her feel sticky and sweet and good enough to eat. He looked eminently edible himself. He wore his hair pulled back, his gold rim gla.s.ses sat on his nose, and a narrow gold chain hung around his neck. He looked so delicious that she didn't even care that he once again wore the hated dark gla.s.ses.
”Come on in. I'm all set. I just have to grab my bag.”
Ric stepped into the living room, and Flash started chattering. ”Pretty boy, pretty boy!”
Ten-four on that, Flash. She picked up a black shoulder purse that was more kin to a backpack than an evening bag. Not the s.e.xiest accessory, but she needed enough room for her cell phone, pager, sungla.s.ses, wallet and badge, not to mention essentials like lipstick and a comb.”Let's go,” she said to Ric, then to the bird, ”Behave yourself while I'm gone, Flash.”
A long squawk followed them out the door.
Ric said he wasn't familiar yet with what the town had to offer in the way of food and let her pick the restaurant. She wanted to get away from Shadow Bay's prying eyes, but on the other hand she didn't want to be too far away in case of an emergency. She settled on a country inn that was about ten miles up the highway into the next county.
Tourist season was in high gear, and the inn had its share of summer people and ”fudgies,” a sometimes affectionate, sometimes derisive, moniker the locals had dubbed years ago on vacationers who came to northern Michigan and purchased copious amounts of fudge. There were a few families in the inn, but most of the patrons were older couples. The hostess and waitresses were all young, however, and Shelby wasn't blind to the fact that every one of them turned their heads to follow Ric's progress as they were led through the dining room and seated. Even a good many of the mothers with kids and more mature women flicked surrept.i.tious glances Ric's way. Shelby knew without a doubt that even in a room full of people their own age, Ric would stand out. If she ever had any doubts about the power of his presence, they were gone now.
”Listen, Shelby, I'm on a pretty strict diet, so I can't eat restaurant food, but don't let that stop you from enjoying whatever you want to have.”
”You don't eat meat?” she ventured. She herself had spent a number of years experimenting with vegetarianism, and it had indeed been difficult to eat out.
”No, I don't eat meat. But as I said, don't let that stop you.”
She didn't. She ordered a combo of steak and shrimp. She didn't eat out very often, and she planned to make the most of this outing, in every respect.
”Ric, do you want to hear something funny?” Her fingers played with her napkin.
”Sure.”
”There's already gossip going around the department that you and I are an item. Somebody saw us in the diner together, and someone even took note of us in the grocery store.”