A Deep and Dark December (13 page)

Pulling her hand out from under his, she pressed back against the seat as far as she could, evading his touch. “Why do you care?”

“Just tell me. What is it, the apron? The commanding way he handles melons?”

“Stop mocking him,” she defended.

He leaned in, his voice dropping to that seductive growl she had trouble resisting. “Come on, tell me.”

His eyes glinted dark and mesmerizing and once again she found herself falling down his rabbit hole of persuasion. She wanted to tell him about her doubts, her inability to feel anything more than friendship toward Keith. She wanted to move closer to Graham and touch him the way she couldn’t touch Keith. Graham seemed to understand her in a way Keith didn’t. The way Keith couldn’t. Graham was the only other person besides her family who knew about her ability. And she was glad she’d told him about it. He accepted it, accepted her.

“I do like him.” She couldn’t seem to stop defending Keith to Graham. The fault of their relationship lay with her, not Keith. She wanted Graham to understand that. “He’s good to me. We have a nice time together.”

“But?” he prodded.

“But…I just wish I was more attracted to him. You know, physically. He’s handsome. Everyone thinks so.”

He frowned. “I’m still not getting why you’re with him.”

“He coaches Little League. His store donates the food for the spring carnival every year because he arranges it. He’s on the committee to keep San Rey clean. He—”

“Belongs,” Graham finished. “I get it. He’s got what you want.”

“And what is it you think I want?”

“Acceptance by osmosis.”

“It’s not like that.” But it was
exactly
like that. Being with Keith gave her a credibility she lacked on her own. His acceptance of her should’ve translated to acceptance of town. Should’ve, but didn’t.

He sat back in his seat, suddenly looking tired. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

His abrupt dismissal stung. She should’ve been glad to be away from him and his gaze that saw too much, away from his questions that made her look too closely at her life and the lies she’d told herself trying to reinvent it.

“Thanks again for the ride,” she said, opening the door. “Good-night.”

She climbed out of the car and closed the door behind her without looking back. She could feel his gaze on her all the way up her front steps. He didn’t pull away from the curb until she’d gotten safely inside, lights on, door locked behind her.

It wasn’t until later, just before she drifted off to sleep, that she realized what she’d done by kissing Graham. Keith had never kissed her like that. He never would. She’d never feel—in a thousand kisses with Keith—what she felt in that one kiss with Graham Doran.

Erin arrived at the police station promptly at eight only to find Graham hadn’t yet come down from his apartment upstairs. This unfortunate turn of events meant that she’d have to make small talk with Mabel while she waited. Except with Mabel, the talking was never small. It was strained, and stretched more horribly than Mabel’s girdle elastic.

“You know I’m not one to talk,” Mabel was saying, her towering strawberry blond beehive wobbling. “But did you see that new sports car Reverend James bought? If I were Mrs. Reverend James I’d’ve made him turn around and take it right on back to the dealer.” She put her hand to the corner of her coral-painted mouth as an aside. “The way I hear it, the good reverend’s been passing the plate to the Unitarian lady pastor over in Santa Maria. If you know what I mean.”

Erin bit back a groan, turning a polite smile on Mabel. “Did Graham say when he’d be down? I have to get to work.”

The door opened and swung wide, smacking against the wall. Elmer Farnsworth III shuffled over the threshold. “Sorry. Door got away from me.”

Elmer was one more way in which Keith tried and Erin failed him. Keith had thought ahead and hired a lawyer, trying to protect her, but the effort felt like another obligation she owed Keith.

“Oh, don’t you worry about that, Elmer,” Mabel said as she got up from her desk and pushed the door closed against the wind. “Happens all the time after a storm.”

“I’m here after my client… oh, there you are, Eileen,” Elmer said.

“It’s Erin,” Erin corrected.

“Right. That’s what I said. Point me to the restroom, will ya, Mabel?”

Mabel pointed. “Down the hall to your right.”

As soon as Mabel stepped away from it, the door crashed opened again. Jessica stomped, then wiped her shoes on the doormat before coming inside. “Sorry, Mabel.” She hefted the tray of coffee cups in her hands. “My hands were full. They didn’t have the blueberry muffin you wanted so I got you bran. Hello, Erin. Isn’t Sheriff Doran down yet?”

Mabel closed the door behind Jessica. “No, and I haven’t heard a peep out of him. I was just about to call up.”

“Oh, no. Don’t do that,” Jessica said, setting her burden down on her desk. “I’ll go see if he’s awake.”

As soon as Jessica disappeared from view, Mabel started up again. “That one there.” She gestured toward the direction Jessica had gone. “Is angling to be Mrs. Sheriff Doran. I bet she’s hoping to catch him in the shower or just out of it. That would be a sight, wouldn’t it?”

Erin’s mouth fell open. She’d heard the rumors about Jessica pursuing Graham. As far as she knew they were just that—rumors. Until now.

Mabel blathered on, but Erin’s mind went to what was happening upstairs. Of Graham in the shower. Naked. She lost all track of what Mabel was saying. It wasn’t like Mabel needed an audience anyway.

After last night, Erin knew she was on dangerous ground, imagining Graham without clothes. But the images were so very vivid. And then…boom. She was there. Literally in the shower with Graham. Mabel’s voice was gone, replaced with the sounds of water hitting tile and rushing down the drain. Her consciousness hovered just inside the scene, looking down.

Steam billowed, hazing her view. The scent of shampoo and soap hung in the air. Hanging his head, Graham let the water spill over his back. His dark hair was matted against his skull, water trickling down his face to drip off the clean-shaven cleft in his chin. He looked tired, worn down.

Past or Future?

Erin didn’t even try to keep her gaze from wandering over his still form or from admiring the contours of his body as the water slithered like a loving hand over his flesh. She reached out to touch, her fingers skimming through him. Neither of them was real. They were nothing more than two beams of light passing through one another. But she ran her hands over his image anyway, imagining how his skin would feel, how warm and slick it would be. How it would feel to press her body to his, the slip and slide of skin on skin.

He dipped his head back, letting the water hit his scalp. She traced a finger over the column of his throat, following it with her lips…

A door banged closed, bringing Erin crashing back to the present. She shook her head, trying to clear the images from her brain. Not again. Was her ability even hers to control anymore?

Footsteps thundered on the stairs. Mabel put a hand to her heart, her mouth open mid-harangue. Jessica barreled into the room. A door opened above.

“Don’t ever come up here again!” Graham shouted, punctuating his point by slamming the door.

Jessica skidded to a halt behind Mabel’s chair as though she was hiding behind her mommy.

“What the devil did you do, Jessica?” Mabel asked.

Her chest puffing, Jessica’s lips slowly curved into a smile that matched the wicked look in her eyes. “Answering the age-old question,” she said.

Mabel patted the ample flesh pillowing her chest. “And what in the world would that be? How to scare an old woman half to death?”

Jessica shook her head, her grin growing. “Boxers or briefs?”

“You don’t say?” Mabel craned her neck as though she could see up the stairs for herself. “And?”

“Neither. At least not when he sleeps,” Jessica answered, looking for all the world as though she’d discovered the cure for cancer or something.

Jealousy, hot and seething, burned through Erin. She wanted to smack the superior look off Jessica’s pretty face. If only she could clamp her hand over Jessica’s mouth to keep her from describing in great detail what Erin had only seen in her vision.

“He has a tattoo,” Jessica said smugly. “On his left shoulder blade. Some kind of Chinese symbol. What I wouldn’t give to trace it with my tongue.” She sighed dramatically.

“Jessica Ann Conway!” Mabel exclaimed, blushing all the way to her white roots. “You naughty thing.”

“Oh, come on, Mabel,” Jessica said, tucking a strand of blond hair behind one ear. “I’m sure you’ve had your share of impure thoughts about our sexy sheriff. I bet Erin has too. Haven’t you?”

Oh, yes.
“No.”

Jessica crossed her arms over her chest and gave Erin a mocking look. “Then why are you blushing?”

Erin touched fingertips to her flaming cheek. “I’m not.”

“You’re embarrassing her,” Mabel said. “Besides, what would Erin be doing lusting after the sheriff when she’s got such a handsome boyfriend like Keith?”

“As my grammie says, just because you’ve already ordered dinner doesn’t mean you still can’t look at the menu.” Jessica’s naughty smile flared up again. “And what a fine menu it is. I’ll take one of everything.”

“Jessica!” Mabel admonished.

“Did Graham say when he’d be down?” Erin asked, trying to change the subject.

Jessica narrowed her eyes. “Graham? Don’t you mean Sheriff Doran?”

The door down the hall opened and Elmer hobbled into view, his cane thumping against the wood floor. “I wouldn’t go in there for a while if I was you,” he said, waving a hand in front of his face.

Jessica settled at her desk with a sigh. “If only he was a back sleeper. I would’ve gotten to see
all
the goods.”

“Your mother would box your ears if she heard you talking about the sheriff like that,” Mabel said without any heat, a rosy glow tinting her cheeks. “You didn’t happen to take a picture with your phone, did you?”

“Mabel!” Jessica echoed Mabel’s tone. “I’m shocked!” She snapped her fingers. “Wish I’d thought of it.”

Elmer finally made it across the room and sat down next to Erin. “I used to give the ladies a time myself when I was the sheriff’s age. That is, until Ruth snared me in her net. God rest her.”

“Did
the sheriff
say when he’d be down?” Erin asked again. “I really do have to get to work.”

“Probably be another ten minutes or so,” Mabel answered. “Not like he has to take the time to shave.”

“I like the scruff. It’s sexy,” Jessica said.

So did Erin. And the way his soft beard had felt against her skin as he’d kissed her. She flushed again for an entirely different reason.

The phone on Mabel’s desk rang. “Sheriff’s office… A what?” She scrambled around on her desk before finally coming up with a pen and paper. “Say that again, Ned. Uh-huh. And you’re sure that’s where you put it?”

Jessica scooted her rolling chair over to Mabel’s desk to read what Mabel was writing. “Auto theft? Who’d want to steal Ned Jenkins’ Cadillac? That thing’s older than me.” Mabel scribbled some more, then underlined something she wrote, pointing it out for Jessica to read. “Computer, jewelry, stereo… whoa. A break-in? Are you sure Ned hasn’t been drinking and pawning again?”

Mabel clamped a hand over the mouthpiece. “Keep your voice down. He can hear you.”

Jessica crab-walked her chair back to her desk, shaking her head. “Must be a full moon or something. A murder/suicide and now a break-in. Nothing
ever
happens around here and then within twenty four hours—whammo—crime spree.”

Mabel’s other line rang. She stared at it as though it was a live wire, then turned to Jessica. Pointing at the blinking light, she mouthed
line two?

Jessica’s brows shot up her forehead. “I didn’t even know that line worked.”

“Can you hold on for a moment, Ned? I have a call on the other line.” Mabel said the last sentence as though the devil himself was calling in from hell. She punched the hold button, took a deep breath, then pressed the blinking second line. “Sheriff’s office. A streaker,” she gasped, clasping a hand to her chest. “Running down Main Street?”