Convicted (3 page)

"Jail," Allegra cooed. Incredibly, she licked her full mouth, so like her sister's in shape, but cruel instead of kind. Kissing that mouth would be kissing poison.

He turned to go back inside the house without even saying goodbye.

"Deacon!"

He ignored her, and headed for the back porch.

"Don't you walk away from me," Allegra called after him. "Don't you ignore me!"

He couldn't keep the smile from his face at the sound of anger in her voice. Lisa's baby sister had been nothing but a thorn in his side from the first moment they'd met. So now he'd ticked her off?
Good.

His mother stood in the living room, peering out through the sheer blue curtains to the driveway. "Deacon, who's that girl?"

"Nobody," Deacon said from the back porch door. He stashed his bucket of cleaning supplies under the bench and took his boots off. "Don't worry about it, Mom."

His mom shook her head, still looking. "She looks pretty mad."

Deacon chuckled at that. "I'm sure she is."

"She looks a little bit like that girl you used to go around with. What was her name?" Bertha let the curtain slip shut to turn and look at him.

"Lisa." Any good humor he'd felt at riling Allegra vanished. "That girl out there is her sister."

"Oh." His mom pursed her lips. Deacon could see the questions whirling in her mind, but he had no answers for them.

"I'm going to take a shower," he told her, to fend off the inquisition. "Gotta go to work."

Bertha nodded, still watching him thoughtfully. Deacon kissed her cheek. "Don't worry about it, Mom."

She flapped her hands at him. "Go on. Take your shower."

Not even the steaming water could rinse away the feeling his meeting with Allegra had left with him. There was no way she'd just happened to be walking along his street, not by accident. It wasn't her style.
So why, then?
Why come to see him, and why come dressed to kill?

The phrase, as clichéd as it was, made a sudden chill sweep over him. That's exactly how she'd looked when he walked away. Like she was ready to kill.

The main office at The Garden Shadd was far more lushly appointed than the sad excuse for a workspace Lisa used. It was also a lot busier. Looking around at the bustle and hustle, Lisa was glad for the cramped office she called her own.

"Dad?" She called, winding her way through desks and boxes toward the door at the back that led to her father's private office. "Are you in there?"

"Where else would I be?" her dad asked with an exasperated sigh. "It's month end, Lisa. I'm chained to this desk until the figures work out."

She looked at her father fondly, noting the way his deep blue eyes sparkled even as he complained. "You love month end and you know it."

Doug Shadd leaned back in his chair with a grin and laced his fingers behind his head. Though he'd reached retirement age just the year before, he looked as fit and vigorous as Lisa's older brother Brian, who'd just turned forty. Doug's head of thick blond hair was only just beginning to glint silver in bright sunlight, and the wrinkles around his eyes and bracketing his jaw were clearly laugh lines more than signs of age.

"What's up in the marketing department?" As if he didn't know.

Lisa briefly ran down the list of coupons and promotions The Garden Shadd would be running for the next few months. She ticked off the weekly coupon clipper magazine, the radio spots and the newspaper inserts, then stopped. Dad was still grinning.

"Why are you really here?" he asked finally. He knew her too well.

She decided to get right to the point. "I have a favor to ask."

"Anything, my darling daughter. Name it."

"I'd like you to hire Deacon Campbell."

Doug's grin faded rapidly and he set his chair down on all four legs with a thump. "Why on earth would I do that?"

Lisa moved closer to perch on the edge of his desk. "Just listen to me--"

"The man's a criminal," Doug said in the no-nonsense tone Lisa dreaded. "You, of all people, should know that."

"And I, of all people, helped him get that way!" She slid fingers along the desk's smooth, curved edge.

Her dad sighed. "He made himself what he is. You just helped to see justice served. You saw the surveillance tapes. It was Campbell. You testified to the fact."

"And my testimony sent a man to jail for three years." Lisa didn't mention that her statements had cost her endless sleepless nights fraught with guilt and anxiety.

Yes, she'd seen the video tapes that showed Deacon Campbell entering The Circle K convenience store, and the scenes in which a helmeted man helped himself to the contents of the cash register setting off the alarm. She'd sworn under oath that the man in the tape was the same man she'd ridden with on the back of his motorcycle to the Circle K. Her eyes had told her it was Deacon, but her mind and her heart had never been convinced.

"You want me to hire him?" Doug asked. "After what he put you through? You're lucky you weren't charged as an accessory to the crime!"

Just because she'd been there with him, waiting in the parking lot. Lisa knew she'd gotten off lightly, and that in other circumstances her innocence could have been smeared as easily as a thumb rubbing fresh ink. But she hadn't been charged and hadn't gone to trial. She hadn't gone to jail.

"Dad, please," she said. "Deacon has a wonderful talent. He's got a way with plants and design that would be a great asset to The Garden Shadd. You know if all of that hadn't happened, you'd have been happy to have him on staff."

"But all of that--" Doug waved his hands in perfect mimicry of her gesture. "--did happen. Honey, I know you were sweet on the guy--"

"That has nothing to do with it," Lisa protested hotly.

Her dad frowned. "But I can't hire a man convicted of robbery and assault. What would my customers think?"

"Most of them wouldn't even know," Lisa said. "He'd be in the creative design department. You wouldn't have to send him out on site."

"St. Mary's is a big small town," Doug told her. "Everybody knows everything that goes on around here."

"He's got to get a job somewhere," Lisa said stubbornly, not sure why she was fighting so hard for this. Unless it was a way to assuage her guilt? A way to...to see him again? "Now he's waiting tables down at the Evergreen. Why not have him work here, where we can benefit?"

At that, her dad let out an incredulous laugh. "Benefit from a man who tried to rob The Circle K for two hundred bucks?"

"He's served his time." Lisa rubbed the smooth edge of the desk again, knowing the nervous gesture wasn't helping her case. "Aren't we supposed to help him rehabilitate or something?"

"This is important to you, isn't it?"

She nodded, relieved for once that her dad could read her mind without her having to speak aloud. Doug sighed, louder this time and drummed the desk with his fingers. She could tell by his down-turned mouth that he didn't want to give in to her plea.

"I feel like him going to jail was all my fault," she said quietly. "And I'd like to help him out somehow."

"It's not your fault the man's a crook, Lisa."

Silently, she met her father's gaze without wavering. Doug sighed, still tapping the top of his desk with his fingers. Lisa waited, knowing she had no better argument to give.

Doug groaned, then shook his finger at her. "I'm holding you responsible, Lisa! If anything goes missing..."

"It won't." Lisa slipped off the desk and went around it to give her father a hug. "You won't regret this, Dad. I promise."

"And I want to install a surveillance video in his office. Just to be sure."

"Okay," Lisa said, glad the battle was won.

"I'm just an old pushover."

"Pushover, yes," Lisa teased. "But old? Never!"

"Now you're just trying to flatter me. Get out of here. I'll call Deacon Campbell and tell him you've convinced me to offer him a job."

"No!" The word rang out in the small room, embarrassing her with its unexpected vehemence. "I mean, no, Dad, don't. I'd rather you didn't tell Deacon I had anything to do with you hiring him."

Her dad just looked at her with upraised eyebrows, but he shrugged. "And you think he won't figure it out?" He continued before she could answer. "Okay, I won't say anything about you."

Lisa gave him another squeeze and went back out into the main office again. As she picked her way through the chaos and back toward her tiny but tidy broom closet/office, she thought about the night her life had turned upside down.

Lisa and Deacon had only dated for three months before the decision to stop at The Circle K had changed both of their lives forever. In that short time, she'd thought she'd grown to know the man with the bad boy exterior and talent for making things bloom. Apparently, she'd been wrong. Even now her face flushed hot at the memory of why they'd pulled into the convenience store parking lot instead of heading on back to his place.

"Are you sure?" he'd asked her seriously, twisting around on his motorcycle so he could look at her. The harsh fluorescent light from the store etched his handsome face in shades of black and white. The helmet he now held in his hands had mussed his dark hair.

She'd nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Deacon took her hand in his, brought it to his lips, kissed it. The gesture had sent a white hot bolt of fire down to her belly.

"I can drop you off at the door, give you a peck on the cheek--"

"Stop." She leaned forward swiftly and kissed him hard on the mouth. His tongue dipped between her lips gently, and she sat back on the motorcycle's narrow seat. "Go."

She had not made the decision to make love with him lightly. Nor, she'd thought at the time, had he. Every date had led them to greater intimacy. Their chaste goodnight kisses on her porch had led to passionate embraces on his sofa, and it was only a matter of time before she wouldn't be able to keep from giving in to what her body demanded every time he held her in his arms.

He'd gone inside the mini-mart, helmet in hand, to buy what she didn't normally keep in her purse--condoms. He'd come out in handcuffs. The next time she'd seen him had been in court.

Lisa stopped abruptly, her hand on the door to her office. She couldn't go back to work.
Not today.
Just remembering that last kiss had made her heart start pounding. Her palms felt slick, and a small coil of fire had lit itself in her abdomen again. She shook her head, knowing it was useless to force herself back in front of the computer.

"I'm going to run this copy to the printer and stop at the newspaper," she called into the main office. Nobody would stop her. Running the copy was a chore she did regularly.

Once behind the wheel of her car, she stopped the trembling of her hands by gripping the steering wheel. She caught sight of her eyes in the rearview mirror, and didn't like their wild look. She took a moment to breath deeply, then smoothed her hair and moistened her lips with the stick of balm in her purse. Another few deep breaths and she was fine.

Fine except that no matter how she tried, she couldn't forget about Deacon Campbell's kisses.

What stupid, masochistic inclination had prompted him to take Doug Shadd's offer to work at The Garden Shadd? Deacon asked himself the question one more time as he parked the Road King in an employee spot and lifted off his helmet. He knew Lisa's family owned the nursery. He'd been pretty sure he'd never be hired there because of his past with her. That was why he hadn't bothered applying there, even though he had the credentials. When Doug Shadd called him last night after dinner and offered him a job, Deacon had been too surprised to say anything but yes.

Deacon needed a job. He wanted to work with the ground, growing things and helping people realize their dreams of the perfect yard or garden. Working at The Garden Shadd would let him do that. It was the largest nursery and garden shop in the area. Why should he turn down an offer of work, just because the owner's daughter had sent him to jail for a crime he hadn't committed?

Deacon secured his saddlebags, tightened his belt, and hooked his fingers through the helmet. He might see Lisa today or he might not. He'd better prepare himself. If he had one consolation, it was that his presence at the nursery would be as uncomfortable for her as it would be for him. Like some weird sort of revenge.

Except that now, with one work boot poised on the edge of the concrete steps leading to the greenhouse, Deacon knew he didn't want to get back at her. He just wanted to see her. He wanted to ask her why she hadn't had enough faith in him to see beneath the helmet on the man robbing The Circle K. Why she hadn't returned his letters. Why she'd never, not once, visited him.

"You must be Deacon," said the short plump woman potting marigolds at the long trestle table just inside the greenhouse door. She held out her hand, streaked orange and lined with dirt. He took it. "I'm Jamie. Doug told me to look for you today."

He looked over the pots of flowers. "Do you want me to start here?"

Jamie laughed, her double chin jiggling. "This is stuff anyone can do. No, you're going to be in the design department today. They're having the monthly meeting to go over the client list and stuff."

He'd expected to be put to work doing the most menial jobs, and now they were waiting for him to join their meeting? He looked down at his faded and torn jeans and flannel shirt, the scuffed work boots. "I should've dressed up."

Jamie laughed again. "You'd have been the only one. It's through that door there, down the hall and make your first left. They've taken over the lunch room today."

"Thanks." Deacon already liked Jamie, whose plump cheeks seemed made for smiling.

He followed her directions past a row of office doors. One opened just as he passed, and he nearly collided with the woman coming out.

"You!" Allegra's handful of papers fluttered to the ground.

"Hello, Allegra," Deacon said in resignation. He'd anticipated running into Lisa here. It hadn't occurred to him that Allegra might also have started working at the family business.