Still Waters (2 page)

“I agree, Ms….?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Tiffany. Tiffany Anderson.”

Tiffany. Jake had known one other Tiffany in his life. She had been petite and blond. A cheerleader, if he remembered correctly. The woman before him was more substantial. Long-limbed and well curved. Womanly in a way that some might consider out of style. Personally, Jake preferred it to the boyish look of today’s fashion models. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t in the market for any kind of woman.

Relationships were for people with the time and patience to indulge in them. Jake had neither. He’d learned that the hard way and had no intention of repeating the mistake. He’d get the dog and Tiffany Anderson home safely and get back to the first day of his vacation. The sooner he did both, the better. “Do you need help to your car?”

“No. Thanks. I walked.”

“How about a ride home?”

At his words, Tiffany’s eyes widened. “Home? Oh, no! Brian’s waiting for me at the diner.”

“Brian?”

“My boyfriend. I was supposed to meet him for breakfast.”

“Becky’s Diner, right?” It was the only diner in town, one Jake had become familiar with in the year since he’d moved to Lakeview.

“Yes. Poor Brian. He must be worried sick.”

Jake didn’t comment. Another lesson he’d learned young—people who
should
care, often didn’t. He didn’t say as much to Tiffany, just nodded and pointed to his truck. “I can give you a lift. The dog can ride in the back if you can get him to move.”

Worry eased from Tiffany’s face and her mouth curved into a half smile. “Thanks. That would be great.”

She wiped a hand across her forehead, brushing away
moisture that dripped from her hair. Jake’s gaze followed the movement, his eyes tracing the arch of Tiffany’s brow, the curve of her cheek, and the stubborn point of her chin. She had an interesting face, one made almost beautiful by velvety skin and a dash of freckles across her nose.

Maybe she’d seen him before, but Jake was sure he hadn’t seen
her.
If he had, he wouldn’t have forgotten.

“Do you think he’ll come if I call him?” Tiffany’s voice pulled Jake from his thoughts and he forced his gaze away from the alluring woman beside him.

“He looks pretty comfortable, but it can’t hurt to try.”

Tiffany let out an ear piercing whistle. “Come here, dog. Here doggie, doggie.”

The dog lifted his head, but didn’t stand. Jake figured the mutt was more interested in resting than moving. “Tell you what. You get in the truck. I’ll take care of the dog.”

“Maybe if I knew his name I—”

“Trust me. The dog isn’t going to budge, no matter what you call him. Come on. Your boyfriend’s waiting.”

And so was Jake’s vacation, but he decided not to mention
that
as he ushered Tiffany to the pickup truck.

Tiffany sat in the cab of the old Chevy and wondered how her day had gone so bad, so fast. All she’d wanted was an hour with Brian. A quick morning jog so they could touch base and discuss a few things that were on her mind. Instead she’d gotten a near death experience and a chance to ride in the sheriff’s pickup.

Tiffany grimaced, imagining Brian’s face when she walked into the diner, soaking wet and escorted by an officer of the law. At least the man wasn’t wearing a uniform. Not that it would matter. People in Lakeview knew one another. And they liked to talk. A lot.

With a sigh, Tiffany glanced out the window. The dog and
the sheriff were having a standoff. One determined to move toward the truck, the other just as determined to stay put. Finally Jake leaned down and grasped the dog under its belly, lifting him from the ground with an ease that surprised Tiffany. She watched as he walked toward the truck, his stride long but unhurried, as if the hundred-pound dog were no weight at all. She supposed that had something to do with the bulging muscles of his biceps and the wide, toned breadth of his shoulders. As if sensing her gaze, Jake glanced in Tiffany’s direction, his blue eyes dark and unreadable. Tiffany’s heart did a little flip of awareness before she had the presence of mind to turn away.

Physical strength, stunning good looks—those things might appeal to some people, but not to Tiffany. Brian’s lanky runner’s frame and boy-next-door looks were pleasant but it was his dedication, faith and intelligence that had drawn Tiffany to him.

If the sparks didn’t fly when her eyes met Brian’s—well, that was to be expected. They weren’t living a romance novel and they weren’t teenagers experiencing the bliss of their first love. Brian was everything Tiffany had asked God for—more—and she was thankful. Really.

“All set.” Jake appeared at the driver’s side door and slid into the truck cab, his shoulder brushing Tiffany’s as he buckled his seat belt and started the engine.

It didn’t take long to drive to Becky’s Diner and neither Tiffany nor Jake felt compelled to speak during the short ride. Tiffany wasn’t sure of the reason for the sheriff’s silence. Hers was due to fatigue and worry. She eyed the parking lot as Jake circled it for the second time. Cars were crammed close together, bright sunlight reflecting off their hoods. Even the overflow area was packed tight with vehicles, a result, Tiffany knew, of summer’s arrival.

During the hot months of June, July and August, seasonal residents and tourists flocked to Smith Mountain Lake for recreation. The small, tight-knit community Tiffany had grown up in swelled to twice its size, and the diner’s normally adequate parking lot filled to overflowing. Most times, Tiffany didn’t mind the inconvenience. Today she was in a hurry, and prayed a parking spot would open soon.

As Jake circled the parking lot for the third time, Tiffany’s gaze wandered across the rows of cars. Where was Brian’s Saturn? He’d picked her up at home this morning and driven to the diner—the starting and finishing point of their four-mile run. Now his car was gone.

“I don’t see Brian’s car. I hope he didn’t go looking for me.”

“Want me to go in and ask for him?” Jake spoke as he maneuvered the Chevy into a vacated parking space.

“No. I’ll go in myself. Do you mind waiting with the dog? I’ll get him when I come back out.”

“No problem. But if you’re planning to go in the diner you might want to put this on.” He reached behind the seat and pulled out a blue jacket, thrusting it into Tiffany’s hand.

His expression revealed nothing of his thoughts, though his gaze drifted down to rest briefly on Tiffany’s wet shirt. She followed his gaze with her own, gasping in surprise as she realized the extent of the damage. Smudges of dirt and grass stained the front of the shirt and a jagged tear rent the hem. Worse, the material clung to her like a second skin. Hastily pushing her arms through the sleeves of the jacket, Tiffany zipped it to her chin and tried to ignore the fine trembling in her hands. Her lake ordeal had left her exhausted and she couldn’t wait to get home.

She pasted a smile on her face and turned toward the sheriff, ready to make light of the moment and be on her
way. Instead she froze, flustered by the intense stare of the man beside her. He didn’t smile, didn’t offer any encouragement, just held her gaze, his face set in an expression that shouted
stay back.

Tiffany imagined him using that expression on criminals. Imagined him forcing a confession by the sheer force of his gaze. She swallowed back nervous laughter and pushed open the truck door. “I guess I’d better get in there. Thanks for the jacket. And for saving me. And the dog, too. I mean…I’d better go find Brian.”

Without a backward glance, Tiffany hopped out of the truck and headed for the diner.

J
ake watched her go, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It surprised him a little, the pulling of muscles and crinkling of eyes, the spontaneous response to simple pleasure. The past year had been short on smiles. Those that
had
graced Jake’s face felt forced and unnatural.

Now he was close to grinning thanks to Tiffany Anderson and her rambling, embarrassed banter. Not to mention her shuffling run as she moved across the parking lot, the sleeves of his jacket falling down over her hands. He’d thought her hair to be brown, but now realized he’d been wrong. It was red—a bouncing, shouting array of gold and fire.

He wondered if she had a temper to match, then forced his mind away from the question. He didn’t want to know about Tiffany. Didn’t want to find out who she was, what made her tick, or why she would risk her life for a dog.

He’d done it once—searched for the answers to a woman’s heart. The result had been two years of bitter feuds and cutting silences. In the end, he and Sheila had divorced. He’d thrown himself into his work. She’d thrown herself into the bottle. Jake had blamed himself. Now he avoided relationships, preferring a life of solitude to a life of regret.

Jake ran a hand through his hair and eyed the closed door of the diner. Too much time had passed. Tiffany should have returned by now. The dog whined as if he, too, were growing impatient. Determined to get on with his day, Jake stepped out of the truck and checked on the dog, who lay panting loudly in the morning heat. No doubt he was thirsty.

Jake figured he could get the dog some water in the diner. Then he’d find Tiffany Anderson and politely ask her to remove the mutt from the back of his truck.

If
he could find Tiffany.
If
she hadn’t scooted out the back of the diner and left the dog to him. Jake winced at his own cynicism. Ten years patrolling the most squalid areas of Washington, D.C., had taught him everything he needed to know about human nature. Not that he’d had much to learn. He’d cut his teeth on lies and faithlessness. Where Jake grew up, a promise made was a promise broken and the only person he could trust was himself.

Forcing his mind away from the past, Jake pushed open the door of the diner and walked into warmth and chaos. The sun shone through huge storefront windows, bathing the room with light. Jukebox music and eager conversation filled the dining area as waitresses shuffled order pads and balanced food-laden trays. The heady aroma of bacon and sausage wafted through the room and Jake’s stomach rumbled in response. Once he found Tiffany and got rid of the dog, Jake figured he might just start his vacation with a
stack of pancakes and a side of home fried potatoes. Taking a seat at the counter, he gazed around the room searching for a head full of rioting curls.

“Looking for Tiffy?”

Jake turned to greet Doris Williams, the current owner of Becky’s Diner. “Tiffy?”

“Tiffany Anderson. She said you brought her here from the lake. I thought maybe you were looking for her.”

“Yeah. She leave?”

“She’s in the bathroom. Crying, I’d say. Not that she’s the mopey kind, mind you. But a girl counts on her man being there for her when she’s down. When he’s not, it’s disappointing.”

Jake’s mind spun at the turn in the conversation but he nodded anyway. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

“No supposin’ about it.” Short and thin, with wiry salt-and-pepper hair and skin the color of toasted pecans, Doris was known for her harsh tongue and soft heart. She would go to her grave denying it, swore she’d never committed a charitable act, but the residents of Lakeview knew the truth and loved Doris for it.

Jake had been hearing stories of her timely interventions since the day he’d moved to town. In the twelve months since then, he’d seen for himself the extent to which Doris would go to make a single mother feel comfortable taking leftovers from the diner’s kitchen, or to talk an out-of-work father into accepting free meals for his children. He’d also seen that when Doris needed a hand with something, the townspeople were quick to go to her aid. Jake wasn’t about to break with tradition.

Which he supposed was good, as it seemed Doris wanted something from him. Shifting in his chair, Jake met Doris’s watchful gaze and tried not to fidget beneath her scrutiny.

“Well?” Coal-black eyes flashed as short-nailed fingers beat a tattoo against the counter.

Jake cleared his throat. “Well, what?”

“What are you going to do about Tiffany? Dr. Brian has gone off to the men’s prayer meeting and left her here.
Someone’s
got to give her a ride home.”

The tone of Doris’s voice left little doubt that the someone was going to be Jake. Pushing aside his exasperation, Jake resigned himself to the task. “You said she was in the bathroom?”

“Yes. Drying her shirt, she said. But I know better. Knock on the door loud and get me if she doesn’t come out. I’ll fetch her for you.”

“Right.” With a last wistful look at a tray of pancakes being carried to the dining room, Jake headed for the rest rooms. His belly could wait. Duty called.

“Pull yourself together!” The whispered words did little to stanch the tears that dripped down Tiffany’s cheeks. She mopped at the offending moisture with a wad of toilet tissue, blinked hard and sniffed. It wasn’t far to her house and any other morning she would have enjoyed the walk. But Tiffany was tired. She was wet. The hair she’d so carefully braided that morning fell around her face in straggly curls.

And Brian had left her to fend for herself.

Not that she could blame him. After all, he was leading the prayer meeting and it wouldn’t do for him to be late. Still, it would have been nice if he’d come looking for her. Or barring that, waited until she’d shown up. Tiffany didn’t think it was too much to ask that Brian be as concerned about her well-being as he was about his meeting. Unfortunately, if she’d had to count on him to rescue her, Tiffany would still be floundering in the lake.

The thought brought fresh tears and Tiffany grabbed another handful of tissue, rubbing hard at red-rimmed eyes. The tissue broke apart and dotted her face with tiny bits of white. Irritated, she used the sleeve of Jake’s jacket to rub the residue away. Walking back through the dining room looking like the before ad for allergy relief medication would be embarrassing enough; she didn’t need toilet paper stuck to her face as well.

Sniffing hard, Tiffany forced back more tears and reached for her purse. The one blessing in the whole fiasco was that Brian had remembered to leave it with Doris. Rifling through its contents Tiffany pushed aside car keys, house keys, lip balm and a pack of gum before she realized she’d left her wallet at home. She didn’t have enough change in the bottom of her bag to get the diet soda she wanted. With the kind of day she’d been having, the knowledge didn’t surprise her. Nor did it surprise Tiffany when someone knocked on the bathroom door. Having a few extra minutes to compose herself would have made the day just a little too easy.

“Just a minute.” A last swipe with the tissue, a quick hand through hopelessly tangled hair and Tiffany was ready to face the world.

The corridor she stepped into seemed dark compared to the bright light in the bathroom and she didn’t see the person standing against the wall until he spoke. “Doris told me you needed a ride home.”

Praying the corridor was dark enough to hide her tear-ravaged face, Tiffany turned to face Jake Reed. “Not really. My house isn’t far. I can walk.”

“I don’t mind giving you a ride home. Besides, how else are you going to get the dog there? I think he’s too tired to walk.”

Tiffany’s heart clenched as she pictured the pitiful moun
tain of black fur and soulful dark eyes. She’d forgotten about the dog. “Is he doing okay?”

“He seems fine. Just tired. I came in to get him some water. It’s getting hot out there.”

“Yeah, and he
has
been through a lot. I doubt walking a mile in the heat would be good for him. Maybe I’ll take you up on that ride after all.” Tiffany seized upon the excuse Jake offered her.

“Good. Why don’t you go out the back door there?” Jake gestured to a door at the end of the hall. “I’ll meet you outside in a few minutes.”

Tiffany attempted to smile her gratefulness, but knew her expression fell short of the mark. “All right. Thank you.”

Jake watched her go and tried hard to convince himself he didn’t care that she’d been crying; tried even harder not to notice the proud tilt of her curl-covered head or the unconscious grace with which she moved.

Dr. Brian was an idiot.

A flash of light illuminated the hall as Tiffany disappeared into the morning sunshine. The back door had been a good idea. Even the dim light of the corridor hadn’t hidden the downcast turn of Tiffany’s eyes or the dejected slump of her shoulders. Jake figured she was as uncomfortable with her tears as he was. He was glad she didn’t have to show them to the world.

Not that she’d slunk away like a coward. She’d left with her head high and her chin lifted. Jake admired her grit. Turning away, he headed back to the dining room.

Doris was waiting.

“She still locked in the ladies’ room? Got myself a key around here somewhere. Just hold on a minute and I’ll get it.”

“No need for that, Miss Doris. Tiffany went out the back way. She’s waiting in the truck.”

Doris stared hard, as if trying to ascertain the truthfulness of Jake’s statement. Jake stared back, wishing he didn’t feel like a school kid sitting in the principal’s office. A moment passed with neither speaking. Then, apparently satisfied with what she saw, Doris nodded regally and stepped away. “Good. I figured I could count on you.”

She reached behind the counter and grabbed a brown bag and a cup carrier, thrusting them both toward Jake, “Wrapped this up while you were fetching Tiff. The drink with the straw is diet. That’s what Tiffany always orders. Now get outta here and get that girl home.”

Before Jake could utter a word of thanks, Doris rushed away, weaving between tables and around customers with an ease born of years waiting tables for a living. She was a force to be reckoned with, a strong woman who had worked hard for a small piece of the American dream.

Pulling a soggy wallet out of his pocket, Jake took out several bills and placed them next to the cash register. Doris would complain later, but for now she was too busy to notice the money he’d left. Replacing his wallet, Jake moved toward the door. He needed to get Tiffany Anderson and the mutt home. Then, since he was up and about already, he’d see what he could find out about the morning’s events.

There’d been a slew of misdemeanor offenses this summer—a bit of graffiti, stolen merchandise in a few main street shops, loud music in the early hours of the morning. Jake had a good idea the same teens causing the summer’s mischief were responsible for throwing the dog into the lake. He’d ask a few questions, file a report at the office, and then, finally, he could begin his vacation.

The meteorologists were saying it would be a record-breaking day. Tiffany believed it. Already heat shimmered
up from the pavement in waves of silver and black. The damp clothes she wore warmed quickly, the moisture evaporating as she waited for Jake to emerge from the diner. Part of her wanted to leap from the cab of the truck and run for home before he returned. The other part didn’t have the energy to move.

She felt like a fool twice over. First for trying to save the dog and almost drowning herself in the process and second for expecting Brian to be waiting for her, only to find he had gone. Tiffany had been hard-pressed to face the sheriff in the shadowy hallway of the diner. Facing him in the bright sun would be even worse. She could feel her face reddening at the thought.

“Here. Doris sent this for you.” Jake’s voice startled Tiffany from her thoughts and she turned, reaching for a carryout cup being thrust through the open window.

“Thanks.” Tiffany took a sip from the straw, smiling as the cool freshness of the soda hit her tongue.

“She sent these, too.” A brown bag followed the cup through the window. “Go ahead and eat one. I’m going to give the dog some water before we take off.”

Tiffany tried to ignore the aroma of vanilla and cinnamon that wafted through the truck as he moved away. Instead she concentrated on Jake, watching as he walked back to the diner and returned a few moments later with a plastic bowl. He smiled at someone who called his name, waved at someone else. All in all, the picture of an affable law officer.

But Tiffany sensed something else, a tension that lay behind the smile, a hardness around his mouth and jaw that warned of things better left hidden. Jake Reed played the part well, but Tiffany doubted his heart was that of a small-town sheriff. She’d heard rumors. Heard that he was a city
cop. A man used to violent crime and hardened criminals. She’d heard he was ethical, tough-minded and fair.

What she hadn’t heard was what had brought him to Lakeview.

“All right. We’re set. Where to?” Jake slid into the driver’s seat, casting a glance in Tiffany’s direction.

“I live on Monroe Street.”

Jake turned the key in the ignition and the Chevy sprang to life. “Mind if I have one of those?” He reached over and grabbed the bag out of Tiffany’s hand, opening it up and lifting out a pastry.

Tiffany’s mouth watered and she turned her eyes away from temptation.

“Want one?” Jake held the bag out toward her.

“No, thanks. I’m not hungry.” The loud rumble of Tiffany’s stomach belied her words. Jake lifted an eyebrow, his bland expression replaced for a moment by a flicker of something else. Amusement, no doubt.

“You sure?”

Tiffany nodded and turned away before she changed her mind.

“All right then. Let’s get you home. You cool enough?”

“Pardon?” Tiffany had been so intent on ignoring the heavenly aroma still wafting through the truck that she missed Jake’s question.

“Do you want me to turn on the air? It’s warming up out here.”

“No, thanks. I’m used to the heat.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”