Edward Unconditionally Common Powers 3 (6 page)

“I was like that. Always the wrong man.” She leaned closer to tell her secret. “For me, it was bad boys.” She waved her hand in front of her face. “Oh my Lord, I did love bad boys. High school dropouts. Carnie workers. Rodeo cowboys. The kind of man that would make your head spin with danger and excitement, get you in nothing but trouble, and then be gone the next week.” She laughed.

Edward sat up. “Me too, Meemaw. Bad boys.” He rolled his eyes. “Guess it runs in the family.” He loved finding that there was more in common between them than blood.

She chuckled, picked up a cookie, and took a bite. “These
are
good. Now, don't you worry, child, you stay here as long as you need to. I've got the guest room all ready.” She reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a key. “Here's the key to the house. You come and go as you please. No curfew.” She winked.

“Meemaw!” Edward put his hand to his mouth in mock shock. “You're joking, right? I'm gay; you do realize that?” He took the key and slipped it onto his key ring.

“So?”

“There are no gays in Hooterville.”

“Sure there are. Rush Weston and his partner, I think you call it? They live here.”

“That must be the cop I met, Brian Russell.”

“That's him. Such a nice man. I was so glad to see Rush finally find someone who makes him happy. Besides them, there's no telling who's hiding what around here. I have a few ideas of my own about that list, but they'd scandalize the town.” She laughed and slapped her leg.

Edward sat back and observed his grandmother. His family had only visited occasionally. He'd been a teen the last time he'd seen her, and not very interested in spending time with her, so wrapped up in his own set of worries, his fights with his dad, and with the dreaded realization that he liked boys, not girls.

She hadn't attended the funeral, either.

She'd certainly surprised him. He'd never expected to be able to sit with his grandmother and talk to her about being gay. Even his mother never spoke so openly, only with vague references to his “friends” and “dates.” And his father? When pigs fly.

“Wow. You blow me away, Meemaw.” He threw his arms around her, they hugged, and he was glad that her grip on him was just as strong as his on her. “Thank you.” Tears burned his eyes. Right now, he needed someone to understand him, not to judge or condemn him or to call him a gullible fool.

She gave him a final pat on the shoulder. “Now. Tell me all about your run-in with the local law.”

Edward sat back, picked up another cookie, and told her all about meeting Jack.

Jack looked at the dog and faced his next problem. If he left the dog in the car, it would be just his luck that someone would report it.

DOG LEFT IN POLICE CHIEF'S CAR TO DIE

PETA ASKS FOR CHIEF'S RESIGNATION

Headlines like those he couldn't afford, not if he wanted to keep his job, and he'd worked too damn hard to blow it now over some rich guy's mutt.

He grabbed the leash. “Come on, Winston. You're with me.” He got out and Winston followed. As he walked up the sidewalk to the main doors, Winston stopped, lifted a stubby back leg, and generously watered the flowers that lined the paved brick walk. A passing woman glared at Jack and the dog, telling him with narrowed eyes and a frown that she didn't approve of their pit stop.

Winston finished, then grinned up at her as he happily scraped his back legs on the grass, sending clods flying. She turned the full force of her glare on Jack, and he could feel the heat rise in his cheeks.
Shit
. Damn dog.

“Come, Winston.” Jack yanked on the lead, and Winston waddled after him. At the double door to the building, Jack hesitated.

DOG BITES MAYOR

CHIEF OF POLICE FIRED

Could the headline be worse? Either way, he was screwed. If he ever got his hands on Edward P. Beauregard the Third, for putting him in this mess, he'd gladly do life.

Jack would just make sure the dog didn't get too close to His Honor, that's all.

“I have a meeting with the mayor,” Jack informed the secretary. She looked over her glasses, down her long, narrow nose at the dog, and he watched as her eyebrows rose.

“I have you down, but your friend isn't listed.” Her pursed lips twisted in a smile. “I'll tell the mayor you're here.” She picked up the phone, pressed a button, and spoke, “Chief Whittaker and his friend are here to see you.”

Jack rolled his eyes, and she winked at him. “I don't know, sir.” She looked up at Jack. “What's your friend's name?”

“Winston.”

“Winston, sir.” A pause as she looked at the dog. “Yes,
just
like Churchill. Yes, sir.” She put the phone down. “You can go in.”

Jack nodded to her and pushed through the mahogany door with the seal of the city on it.

His longtime friend, William Lansing, sat behind a large cherry desk and glanced up from his paperwork. A huge map of the city covered the wall behind him.

“Hello, Bill.”

“Hello, Jack. Who's your friend?” Bill Lansing pointed to the dog as he came around the desk and shook Jack's hand. “New recruit? Is he a new item in your budget?”

“No. He's impounded.”

“Impounded? A desperate criminal, eh? It's good to know you're keeping the town safe. What did he do? Rob the savings and loan?” Bill, always quick to needle Jack, chuckled as he sat in one of the black leather wingback chairs in front of his desk. Jack sat in the other. Winston curled up at Jack's feet.

“He bit me.”

Bill's dark eyebrows shot up, and he fixed Jack with warm brown eyes. “Bit you? So you're keeping him close, in case he tries to escape?” He chuckled.

“Actually, I stopped his owner on a speeding charge, and the dog attacked me.”

“He attacked you. You're kidding, right?”

Why did everyone say that? “No. He bit my ankle.” Jack frowned at the dog. “Anyway, he can't be caged, and his owner is a flight risk. He's just visiting in town. I wanted to make sure the dog had his shots before I let him go. Just in case. You know... rabies.”

Both men looked at the dog and rubbed their stomachs.

“Until then, he's with me.”

“I understand, but can't you lock him in a cell or something?”

“No. The owner has made it clear that if anything happens to his dog, he's going to sue the city.”

“Is he serious?” Bill leaned forward, all laughter gone from his eyes.

“Dead. He's very attached to the dog. And from what I can tell, he has the money and lawyers to back it. He's Olivia Rawlings's grandson.” That was putting it mildly. The man's affection for the dog bordered on the fanatic. If that red bandanna the dog wore was any indication, Edward probably had little outfits for Winston to wear. Christ, the man was so gay it was embarrassing.

“Olivia?” Bill blew a soft whistle. “She's got big money.”

“So does her grandson, it seems. He's one of the Atlanta Beauregards,” Jack added in an imitation of Edward's soft accent.

Bill nodded as if it meant something to him. “I knew the rest of the family had moved away. Tons of money. Oil and gas leases.”

Jack hadn't known that. So, Edward had money. Much more than Jack would ever have, no doubt. Why did that bother him? Hell, it just rankled him when someone didn't have to work hard for what they had, when it just got handed to them on a silver platter. Jack had worked damned hard for every scrap he'd ever had from the time he was sixteen.

“Well, I guess, if you put it that way, you're doing this city a service. Do whatever you have to do to keep this guy from suing us. We can't afford it.”

“Sure.” Jack wondered just “whatever” might entail. Or how far he'd have to go?

“He doesn't look dangerous. In fact, he looks expensive. Dogs like that can cost thousands of dollars. Come here, boy.” Bill leaned down and called to the dog.

Too slow, Jack tried to reel the dog in on his leash, but the little bulldog was quicker. Winston's head popped up off his paws, and he trotted over to the mayor, his hindquarters wagging in greeting. Winston sat at the mayor's feet without a single growl. All tongue and no teeth.

“I can't believe he bit you. What did you do to him?” Bill cocked an eyebrow.

Jack watched as the bulldog rolled over on his back and let Bill scratch his chest.

“Nothing. He just walked up and bit me.”

Great. Even the mayor was charmed by the damn dog. Wait until Bill met Edward. What would he say then? To give Bill credit, he didn't blink an eye when Jack had told him about hiring Brian Russell, an openly gay man, as an officer on the town's small force. And in the twenty-or-so years they'd been friends, Bill had never made any remarks about gays. Not that they'd had many conversations about gays, but Bill wasn't the kind of man who held bigoted beliefs. At least Jack didn't think he did.

“Not this good boy.” Bill gave the dog a final pat and then straightened.

Jack sighed. “Hard to believe.” Winston came back to Jack's chair and lay down.

At last, they stopped talking about the damned dog and got down to the reason for the meeting: this year's budget for the police department.

Jack pulled out his papers, gave Bill a copy, and they got down to their discussion.

“Well, first thing Monday, you'll just have to get the vet to fax Winston's certificate of health to the police.” Olivia patted Edward's knee.

“Of course. Nothing is going to keep me from getting him back, Meemaw. I just don't know what I'm going to do with him once I do get him back.” He gave her a halfhearted smile.

“I feel so bad about that. Really. And if there were any way I could let him stay here in the house, I would.”

“I know. I suppose I'll just get a room at that motel up on the interstate. I can make the drive to and from Spring Lake to visit you each day. It's less than half an hour.”

“Hell, I used to drive all the way to San Antonio just for lunch. These days, my doctor has forbidden me to drive at all.” She shrugged but didn't explain any further. Edward figured if she didn't share, he shouldn't ask, but it was a perfect opening and he took it.

“How
are
you feeling, Meemaw?” She looked trim and fit in her blue jeans, white cotton shirt, and loafers, but there was a slight cast of shadow under her eyes.

“Well, for an old broad, I'm doing damn fine.” Her eyes sparkled when she laughed. “But like anyone my age, I could complain. But I don't. Can't stand to listen to those old biddies around here talking about their aches and pains.” She shook her head and then winked at him. “I'd rather hear about who's fooling around with who.”

Edward gasped. “Not here in Hooterville? With all these God-fearing decent folks?” He couldn't resist taking a dig at the locals.

“Why not? Small towns are just as bad as big towns. Worse. Why, there are skeletons buried all over this county, child. Got a few out back myself.” She winked.

“Do tell?” Edward leaned closer. “One of those bad boys of yours? A nosy neighbor, maybe?”

She laughed. “Maybe.”

“I can believe it too.”

“Edward.” She grew serious. “What do you think about the chief of police? Jack Whittaker seems to have made an impression on you.” Her eyebrow rose as she pinned him with a brown gaze so similar to his own.

“Jack?” Hell and damnation, he couldn't help but smile when he said the man's name.

“You know him well enough to call him by his first name?” She cocked an eyebrow upward.

“Well, I let him keep my dog, didn't I? I wouldn't let just
anyone
do that.” Edward could do coy as well as any ingenue.

“He's a good-looking man.” A mischievous light flickered in his grandmother's eyes as she fished for information.

“He is.” No point in denying that; everyone could see Jack Whittaker was handsome.

“He's been alone for a long time.”

“Has he?” Edward feigned disinterest. “I wonder why.”

Her brow furrowed. “I know he didn't grow up here. I'm not sure where he's from.” Her gaze got fuzzy as her words faded.

Edward kept quiet and let her think. He wanted desperately to know what she knew about the man, but pushing her would let her know just how desperate he was.

“There was an engagement.”

“Oh?” Edward slouched.

“But it fell through.”

“Oh.” He sat up. That could mean anything.

“It was called off right before the wedding. She wasn't local. Some girl he'd met in college, I think.” She shrugged. “All I know was Jack was in his early twenties, out of college, and newly hired with the police. Handsome as the devil, even then. Everyone says it broke his heart so bad, he's never let anyone close again.”

Edward could just see Jack, as tanned as he was now, but younger, less serious. Maybe he'd even smiled more back then. Before he could blink, Edward had fashioned a story. Jack, unaware of his inclinations, gets all the way to the altar before facing the truth and calling off the wedding.

Bride seen fleeing the church. Parents in an uproar. Guests stunned.

It
could
have happened that way.

Twenty years ago, some gay men would have gotten married and stayed in the closet.

Maybe Jack was still in the closet.

Maybe Jack longed to come out.

Maybe Jack just needed a little push.

What Jack really needed was to go home, take a hot shower, and get his foot up. The throbbing had returned as his pain meds ran out. Maybe a cold beer would help his head, because it was still pounding.

The meeting with the mayor had gone well, and Winston hadn't bitten anyone, especially Jack.

He straightened the papers on his desk and shut off his computer, then stood and scooped up his hat.

“Winston, we're going home early today. I'm beat.” Jack leaned down, clipped the leash to the dog's collar, and they headed for the door.

“Kristen, I'm going home. If anyone needs me, call my cell. But only if it's an emergency, okay?”

“Sure, Chief. You look tired. Get some rest.” Kristen smiled at him and then went back to work.

Jack led Winston out of the building and to his cruiser. This time, he didn't bother to argue about where the dog sat. Winston hopped into the front seat, and Jack went around to the driver's side and got in. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, pressing into his temples with his thumb. It offered a little relief from the pain, but only as long as he kept up the pressure.