Pelican Point (Bachelors of Blueberry Cove) (29 page)

Whether Alex would see that as planting roots, or if she’d even consider such a thing, he honestly had no idea. But after talking to Fergus, he knew he wasn’t prepared to let her go without finding out.

“I
told you. I’d gone by Owen’s about nine-fifteen, nine-thirty, but he hadn’t opened yet. I saw the antiques store up the hill and had been meaning to go in, so I went, talked with the owner, then came back to Owen’s. He was still closed, no note on the door. I’d turned to go back by Delia’s to see if he’d been in for breakfast or if she’d heard anything about why he might not be open when I heard a pounding noise coming from inside. Then someone yelling. I mean, the person was totally panicked. So, I guess I panicked. I had no idea what was going on in there—”

“So, you broke in and went inside alone to find out?” Logan paced behind his desk. “Do you realize how bad an idea that was . . . on numerous fronts?”

Alex shrugged. And wished like hell that watching Logan play bad cop wasn’t making her squirm in her seat. She could only hope he mistook it for fear of the law. “I couldn’t just stand there and I didn’t think waiting around for someone to come help was a good idea. Did you hear why Eleanor broke in? I mean, it was crazy, and the wrong solution of course, way wrong, but I feel sorry for her. Is Owen pressing charges?”

Logan hadn’t talked to Owen yet, and given the man’s attitude earlier, he sincerely doubted it, but no one seemed to be taking the whole episode seriously. “She broke into his store while out on bail from her recent arrest.”

“An arrest that was a result of the same problem that led her to do this.”

“Alex, just because Blueberry Cove is a small town doesn’t make the law any less specific, or the consequences of breaking it any less severe.”

“I know.” She looked up at him from where she sat. “She’s just lonely, Logan. She feels completely alone in the world, and, well, maybe I understand that a little bit. More than a little. Not the crazy part of it, but the alone part. Add in her age and possibly—okay, probably—a bit of senility playing a factor, and really, can’t there be some other solution besides jail?”

Logan lifted his hands, then let them drop to his sides. “No one wants a peaceable solution more than I do, but—”

“Good. Why don’t we all sit down together and talk it through? I’m sure we can find a something that works for everyone.”

“Because that’s not how the law works.”

She folded her arms and slumped back in her seat. “Well, it should.”

He came and sat on the corner of his desk. “On one hand, I agree with you. But on the other—if we let someone barge into city hall—”

“Waving a water gun,” she reminded him.

“With the intent of creating havoc, gun or no gun. When this same person breaks into a store and we do nothing but say, ‘oh, well, she didn’t mean it, she was having a bad week’ and give her what amounts to a slap on the wrist, what’s to keep someone else in town—specifically someone young and still very impressionable—from thinking they could get away with something similar because they’re mad at mommy and daddy, or their schoolteacher? Except they don’t pick up a water gun. Do you understand? Actions have to have consequences.”

Alex didn’t want to admit it, but he had a point—a very good one. “Okay,” she said grudgingly. “I see your side. But does she have to be made into some kind of an example? It will humiliate her.”

“Alex—”

“All I’m saying is, why can’t we figure out something that will penalize her for the wrongs she committed—”

“They’re called crimes.”

Alex sent him a quelling look. “What if Owen doesn’t press charges and you get the judge to give her community service or something for her past transgressions? She pays her dues and everyone moves on.”

“Until she does it again. Then what? And what about your role in this?”

“I’ve already told Owen I’ll pay for the damages. Obviously, I know I broke the law by breaking in, but he seems to understand that I didn’t do it maliciously, but to help someone who was obviously in distress. I don’t know if he’ll file charges, but if he does, then I’ll deal with it. I’m not looking to duck the consequences of what I did. But I’m not talking about me. I can handle that. I’m talking about Eleanor.”

Logan held her gaze without saying anything, and whatever anger or frustration he’d felt when she’d been ushered into his office seemed to dissipate as the silence stretched out and he continued to study her. “Why are you so worried about her? Is it just because you identify with her being alone, or is it something else?”

“I—does it have to be something else? She’s in trouble. And not just with the law. I’m just trying to do what I think is right. Did you talk to her yet?”

“Not directly, but I read Jackson’s report.”

“I don’t know what she told him, but she talked to me while we sat in the back of your truck before one of your officers got there. Did you know she’s been feeding that raccoon for over a year?”

“What? The raccoon? What does this—”

“Did you know?” Alex asked again.

“I—I know Fergus said something about it, but I didn’t pay much attention, other than it’s a dangerous thing to do—which proved to be true when the thing got inside her house and she tried to mace it with furniture polish.”

“Well, she wishes she’d never called you that day. You ruined everything. I mean, she panicked, but—”

“I didn’t ruin anything. I sent Randy over there to get the raccoon out of her house before it bit her or she bit it. Did she mention to you that a year or two back she kept calling us over because she swore someone was coming in and rearranging her porcelain doll display?”

“No, but I’m not surprised by it.”

“She’s getting older, and I understand that it’s—”

“No, it’s not because of that. I mean, yes, she’s getting older, but it’s because she’s older that she’s alone. She didn’t have children and her husband died a long time ago. She had one sister who lived in Florida who died six years ago. The only two people she could call friends also died within the last eighteen months. The dolls? That was a cry for help, I’d say. Just wanting attention. She’s not the most sociable person.”

Logan gave her a look that said
really?
but didn’t put voice to it.

“She hasn’t the first clue how to make new friends at her age, and really, where would she even try? I’m not sure she’s ever been a people person. She’s not a churchgoer and there isn’t a community center or senior center here, so . . . anyway, that raccoon had been getting in her trash and causing her problems, and at first she did want someone to come and trap it. She even called your animal rescue guy— Randy—about it. But the raccoon kept coming back. So she started to leave food out for it, hoping it would leave her trash alone. And it worked. After a while, she found herself looking forward to its visits. She’d watch it through the window from her kitchen when it came up and ate.”

“This isn’t a Discovery Channel special, Alex. Those animals can be dangerous. She—”

“She was lonely, Logan. Feeding it made her happy. Trust me, she knows very well how dangerous it can be because one morning she left her back door open while she was taking the trash to the curb and it got in her house. It scared her to death. She liked the idea of it outside, but not in her home. She panicked and called you. She didn’t want to hurt it. She just didn’t want it in her house.”

“If she wants companionship, why not get a cat? Or five or six of them?”

“I don’t know. All I know is Randy got the raccoon out of the house and it broke her heart to think she wouldn’t see it again. I’m not saying it’s rational or logical, but sometimes emotions aren’t, and she is old and”—Alex raised her hand—“ just let me finish. The raccoon came back and she wanted to find some way to make sure you wouldn’t all take it away again, which is why she attacked you with water guns and later went to city hall. She wanted a license or whatever it would take to let her keep it, just not in her house. She was trying to stop it from being removed. I don’t know why everything got out of hand like it did, but she was scared, Logan. Scared and old and maybe not all that clearheaded about it. Like I said, she’s not a people person.”

“She seems to have bonded pretty well with you.”

“I don’t think she thought through her actions. She just—she wanted the raccoon to come back and she knew if she went into Owen’s to buy pet food again everyone would know she was up to something. Crazy as it sounds, she thought she’d just go in before he opened, get as big a bag as she could carry, leave money on the counter, and no one would know it was her.” Again, Alex lifted her hand against his rebuttal. “Also wrong on so very many levels, but it wasn’t a malicious act. She just . . . doesn’t want to be alone.”

“And again I ask, why not get a cat? Or a pet goldfish for that matter.”

“She liked the raccoon because she didn’t have to take care of it or interact with it or even live with it. The animal was happy to be fed and that made her happy. And feel less alone. Something counted on her, depended on her, needed her, I guess.” Alex lifted a shoulder. “Surely there’s some other solution to this than jailing her or fining her or both.”

Logan didn’t say anything, but once again held her gaze for a long, silent moment.

She gave him a wry smile. “And now you think I’m nuts for sticking up for the crazy raccoon lady.”

“No. I don’t,” he said at length. “I think you’re caring and compassionate. And trying to get the right resolution to a string of wrong actions.”

Their gazes connected and she wanted so badly to stand up and let him pull her into his arms. It was disconcerting to realize how much she’d grown to need him, and yet, she knew it would have felt like the most natural thing in the world. Just as it always did with them.

She also knew they were on the same side in this Eleanor problem. He just had a different responsibility, one that had to take his entire town into consideration and not just one woman. Or two, as the case might be. She hadn’t really thought about the true responsibilities he faced, and what it took to do a job like his. On the one hand, it wasn’t as if Blueberry was a hotbed of crime, but at the same time, there were all kinds of things that brought troubles to people’s lives, no matter where they lived. In a town the size of the Cove, not only did he know all those people personally, but with a force as small as his, she imagined it often fell to him to resolve the issues that came up.

Now she understood why he’d put off having workers out at the Point. She didn’t blame him for wanting to preserve his peace and quiet, his alone time. As much as she knew the renovation had to be done, she felt bad about being the catalyst to force all that on him.

Her thoughts, the situation, the surprising strength of her feelings for him, all sort of caught up with her at once. She broke their gaze, feeling more than a little confused. She wanted the right result for Eleanor Darby. She also wanted Logan McCrae.

But she’d already made her choice regarding him. One he’d agreed to . . . with good reason. Although, with him so close, emotions in the room running high, and the tension winding tighter and tighter, the longer they talked . . . the harder it was to remember why stopping what they’d started had been such a good idea.

Alex shook off her musings. “You’re right. That’s exactly what I want.”
Just not all of what I want.
“Surely there is some solution that will please everybody. Is there really no way we can at least try?”

“We?”

She caught his gaze again. “You. Me. Us. Whoever it takes.”

A spark leaped to his eyes, and she felt her throat go dry. She wanted to tell him that maybe she wasn’t just talking about Eleanor. Maybe there were other solutions to other problems, namely the one that had caused her to move out this morning. Maybe they could figure out what would be best for Eleanor, Owen, and the town. Then talk about what might be best for them.

She hadn’t even been gone a full day yet and nothing about leaving felt like the right move. It felt more like . . . hiding—as if she could pretend she wasn’t having this dilemma, and it would go away. It was true she would leave Blueberry, but not anytime soon. If she felt like this now, how on earth was she going to make it through a year or more, living in the same small town as him, wanting him, wanting . . . more?

Suddenly the idea that sleeping under different roofs would solve everything seemed like the ridiculous solution it was—which meant . . . what? Walk away from Pelican Point? Leave Blueberry
now
?

If moving across town to get away from the temptation of Logan McCrae had felt wrong . . . the idea of leaving town altogether made her stomach clutch. She wasn’t ready to leave yet. She hadn’t done what she’d come to do. She needed the job, the work. She needed it so she could sort things out, figure out what came next.

Not only didn’t she have any answers, now she had a dozen more questions.

“Alex.” His deep voice had that rough edge to it. The one that always sent shivers down her spine.

And this time was no exception.

He shifted off the desk and she half rose out of her chair as if he’d simply willed her up and into his arms and she’d gone willingly, without question. Just as he reached for her, his office door opened and Sergeant Benson ducked her head in.

“Sorry to interrupt, sir.” She took in the two of them and the way they had simply frozen in place. “Truly sorry. But Owen Hartley is out here. He’s done with his statement and has asked to speak to you.”

Logan held Alex’s gaze a moment longer, then glanced at his sergeant. “Send him in.”

Alex scooted around her chair. “I’ll just—I can wait outside.”

“He wants to talk to both of you,” Sergeant Benson added.

“Oh,” Alex said, surprised. She glanced at Logan, then back at the sergeant. “Okay.”

A moment later, Owen stepped into the room. He was of average height, average build, somewhere in his late forties with reddish-brown hair that wasn’t exactly thick or curly, but just enough of both to always have a bit of an unruly look to it. He had more the look of the quintessential mild-mannered college professor than a hardware store owner. All he needed was a set of wire rim glasses and patches on the elbows of his plaid wool jacket.