Under the Lights (10 page)

It didn't take her long to find it. In a recessed area where the Dumpsters were parked and the kids were discouraged from going, there were two windows at ground level that went into the mechanical room. They hadn't been updated yet, and the guys had actually managed to pull the ancient window out of its casing.

Shaking her head, she went to the closest door and used her master key to let herself in. After orienting herself and plotting the quickest route to the gym, she jogged through the halls.

She heard them before she saw them, laughing and talking in a low enough rumble so she couldn't make out the words. Switching off the flashlight, she gave her eyes a few seconds to adjust to the moon shining through the scattered and high windows, and then stepped up behind them.

“Police,” she said in a stern voice. “Turn around.”

They all pivoted at once and she had to bite back a laugh when Chase and Alex bounced off each other in the process. They'd definitely had a couple of drinks too many with their supper.

“Officer McDonnell,” Chase said in that low, sexy voice she heard in her dreams. “You're out of uniform.”

She pointed to the Stewart Mills PD emblem on the chest of her zip-up hoodie. “Close enough.”

Alex Murphy folded his arms over his chest and scowled. “We walked instead of driving, so we didn't do anything wrong.”

She raised her eyebrow, forcing herself not to smile. “Really?”

“Yeah. The car's still parked in front of the House of Pizza, so you can just go away.”

Sam, who looked sober, elbowed him in the ribs. “You should stop talking now.”

“She's giving me the cop look.”

Chase snorted and she turned that look on him. “I was about two minutes from curling up on my couch with a bowl of ice cream and the TV remote when I got the call three drunken morons were breaking into the school. Don't push me.”

“I don't drink,” Sam said. “Only two drunken morons were breaking into the school.”

“So your excuse is . . . ?”

He shrugged. “Didn't seem like a good idea to let them come alone.”

“So you're just here to chaperone this little criminal trespassing field trip?”

Though it didn't affect her the way Chase's did, Sam's grin had a way of lighting up his hardened face. “Yes, ma'am.”

She couldn't hold the smile back anymore. “If you don't drink, why is the car still at the pizza house?”

“In theory, walking here was more stealthy than driving.”

“And no stop signs,” Chase added.

“Yes, because a failure to stop is totally your biggest concern right now.” She sighed and shook her head. “Let's go.”

“We haven't seen the trophy case yet,” Alex said.

“I'd be happy to bring you here during the day, with the principal's blessing, for a tour of the school.”

“We're already here, though,” Chase said, with all the sincerity of an intoxicated person whose logic made perfect sense to him.

“Illegally.”

“If you'd stop arguing with us, we'd be done already and you could be eating ice cream,” Chase continued. Then he gave her a half smile. “I really like ice cream.”

Alex seemed very interested in a pep rally poster still taped to the wall, but Kelly didn't miss the way Sam looked from Chase to her and back again.

Chase leaned closer to her. “What law do I have to break to get handcuffed around here?”

“You should probably start exercising your right to remain silent,” Sam said.

“She hasn't arrested me yet,” Chase argued. “If she arrests me, she has to frisk me first.”

“Fine,” Kelly said, surrendering to the inevitable. “Let's go see the damn trophy case.”

She led them through the dark hallways, using her flashlight to guide the way. When they came to the lobby area outside the gymnasium, the moon was shining through the skylights, so she switched it off and waved toward the trophy case.

The three men gathered in front of it in silence and Kelly
hung back. She didn't need to look, since she walked by it several times a week during her visits to the school. There were a variety of trophies in the case now, but the big one—the first one for football—was on the top shelf, with a framed photo of the team beside it. Mounted to the back of the case were several newspaper clippings.

T
HE
S
TEWART
M
ILLS
E
AGLES
W
IN
!

A photo of her dad was in one of the articles, faded to a pale yellow now. He was in his Eagles polo, with his whistle around his neck and a ball cap on, and the joy and pride he'd had in his team shone on his face. It was the same photo she'd had next to her when she started making the phone calls to bring these guys home.

As she looked at the three of them, their heads bowed almost in reverence, she felt warmth seep through her. They'd all put their lives on hold to help her dad, and she wasn't sure she could ever thank them enough for that.

“We should steal the trophy,” Alex said in what he probably thought was a low voice.

Idiots.
“Okay, guys. Let's see if we can get you back to the car, which Sam is going to drive, by the way.”

“You were a lot more fun back in high school,” Alex said, and then he frowned. “No, wait. That was Courtney.”

She gave him her best cop face and pointed down the hallway. “Go.”

She managed to get them outside and, after locking the door behind her, was able to secure the back window with Sam's help. Then she pointed in the direction of the pizza place, and they started walking.

“We could go to the covered bridge and make out,” Chase said when they'd gone maybe thirty yards.

“You're not my type,” Alex said.

“I was talking to Kelly.”

She rolled her eyes. “You have more of a chance with Alex.”

“Dude, she's Coach's daughter,” Sam said.

Kelly was getting tired of hearing that. Yes, she was proud to be the man's daughter, but she didn't want to be hoisted up onto whatever pedestal they'd put him on. “Right now, the only part of my life relevant to you three is my job. Keep it up and you'll sober up behind bars.”

When they reached Alex's rental car, she waited while he pulled the key out of his pocket and handed it over to Sam. “I'll see you gentlemen at the street fair tomorrow. Bright and early.”

She took a perverse satisfaction in their groans as she walked away.

C
hase was a little slow getting out of bed the next morning, and only the mouthwatering scent of frying bacon wafting up to his room made him do it.

Too much beer. A great idea. Breaking into the school. Asking Kelly to go make out with him on the old covered bridge. Tripping up the stairs while trying to sneak into the McDonnell house. Not one of his finer nights.

He made quick work of showering and dressing for the day, choosing cargo shorts and the faded Eagles T-shirt he'd brought with him from New Jersey. He supposed that was a bright spot in his life, being able to fit in a shirt he'd worn in high school.

Coach was just sitting down with his breakfast plate when Chase walked into the kitchen. “Surprised to see you up this early, son.”

Ouch. “I apologize again for the noise. And your daughter said she wanted to see the three of us bright and early for the street fair.”

“When did you see Kelly?” Mrs. McDonnell asked from the stove, where she was frying eggs. He noticed she didn't fry them in the leftover bacon grease anymore, maybe out of deference to Coach's health, but they still looked delicious.

“Uh . . .” He wasn't awake enough yet to lie. “Last night, when she responded to the call we'd broken into the high school.”

Coach almost choked on his coffee. “You do any damage?”

“No, sir. We just wanted to see the trophy again.”

He felt like a teenager again, squirming under Coach's steady gaze, but then the man laughed and Chase relaxed. “Seeing you boys together again does an old man's heart good, but I thought you'd all have learned to stay out of trouble by now.”

“There was beer.”

“How many?”

“Three or four?” Chase replied, but Coach raised that eyebrow at him. “Pitchers.”

“Sit down and eat,” Mrs. McDonnell said, setting a plate and a cup of coffee in front of his chair. “You have a long day ahead of you, although it doesn't start until ten, no matter what Kelly said.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He dug in, scooping up egg yolk with the thick-sliced bread she baked at home. When she set a tall glass of orange juice and a couple of painkillers next to his coffee, he smiled his thanks.

To make up for his less-than-graceful entrance the night before, Chase cleared the table and washed the dishes when they were finished with breakfast, waving away Mrs. McDonnell's objections. When he was done, he stuck an Eagles ball cap on his head and walked toward the downtown area, since if Kelly could walk, so could he. And he wouldn't have to worry about parking his truck or it getting blocked in.

The sun was warm without being hot and the humidity was low, so it would be a perfect day for the street fair. He waved to the kids manning the tollbooth, which they were doing again for the weekend, and they all waved back. A lot of people greeted him by name and, for most of them, he could do the same.

There were all sorts of activities going on, and he couldn't help but be impressed by the way the town was pulling together for the football team. There was a garden club booth, with women selling flowers, along with a craft booth. A yard sale booth and a huge book sale. Everything was donated, with all the proceeds going to the Eagles.

The karaoke booth drew him in, as it had many others. It was fifty cents per song to perform, and there was a tip jar that would also go into the football fund at the end of the day. The citizens of Stewart Mills really loved to sing, he thought, though they did so with varying degrees of talent.

The realization that the fate of the Stewart Mills Eagles football team might come down to how much pocket change people could spare was a humbling one. Everybody was working their asses off, scraping for quarters and dollar bills, and they were smiling while they did it.

He saw Alex from a distance, taking pictures as always. The camera looked a lot more sophisticated than the junk one he'd had when they were kids, but Alex had always had an eye for photography. Chase thought it was pretty cool he'd managed to turn his childhood passion into a career.

Hunter and Cody walked by with an older couple, all of them laughing, and he waved. The man looked enough like Hunter for Chase to assume it was the boy's dad. After seeing the kid at the first Eagles Fest meeting he'd attended and then spending time with him off and on, he'd surmised Hunter was probably the boy Kelly had talked to on the covered bridge the other night, and it was good to see him having fun with his family. No matter what happened with the team, Stewart Mills needed a celebration.

After watching a dozen or so people mangle popular songs, Chase went to the lemonade stand, where they were charging a dollar per cup. After the supply costs were recouped, the profit would go in the kitty, too.

He bought a cup and, after wincing at the amount of sugar, walked across the town square to check on the dunk tank. It didn't appear to have sprung any leaks overnight, nor had it been messed with at all. He'd assumed it would be okay, since the kids most likely to mess with it were the kids who most needed it.

“You going to take a turn in that?”

He turned to see Decker with his wife and kids, all of them eating brownies. “I haven't been asked to and I hope to keep it that way. Where did you get the goodies?”

“Bake sale booth,” one of Deck's sons muttered around a mouthful of brownie.

“I must have missed that one.” A memory surfaced and
Chase's mouth watered in response. “Are there pistachio bars?”

Deck grinned. “The woman who made them when we were kids passed away a few years ago, but her daughter mastered the recipe. I've had two already.”

“Nice to see you,” he said to the Decker family. “I have to find the bake sale booth before Leavitt does. He inhales those suckers.”

“It's over by the guy playing the banjo,” Cheryl called after him. “Just follow the music.”

Chase did just that, stopping to drop a buck in the banjo player's hat—which had an Eagles Fest sign on it—on his way to the pistachio bars. There was a crowd around the baked goods booth, and he hoped he wasn't too late.

He got in line and saw the back of Sam Leavitt's head several people ahead of him.
Damn.
“Hey, Leavitt!”

The quarterback turned to face him, as did almost everybody else, including the women in front of him. He'd been so focused on the booth he hadn't realized Kelly, Jen and Gretchen were in line.

“What?” Sam called.

“No cutting,” Gretchen said.

“What are you ladies after?”

“Brownies,” they all said in unison.

“Good.” He looked over their heads to Sam. “Don't you dare take all the pistachio bars.”

His old friend shrugged. “You gotta be faster, Sanders. Come to think of it, I think I used to say that to you back in high school, too.”

Chase wanted to flip him off, but the street fair was a family event. Instead, all he could do was glare and hope
there were plenty of pistachio bars left. With the golden cookie-type crust loaded with pistachio pudding and whipped cream, they'd always been his favorite treat at Old Home Day, and now he had his heart set on one.

“How are you feeling today?” Kelly asked, a deceptively innocent smile on her face.

“Fine.” He wondered what, if anything, she'd told her best friends, who seemed more interested in whatever they'd been talking about than him. “How 'bout you? Did you have your ice cream?”

“I did. Do you remember last night?”

“Of course.” He wasn't
that
drunk. Buzzed enough to break into the high school and try to get her to make out with him on the bridge, but not enough to obliterate his memory.

He wondered if she was aware of the way her question sounded, because Jen and Gretchen both stopped talking. They didn't turn around, but he could tell they were interested now and wanted to listen more than talk.

“I'm sure Alex and Sam appreciate your help as much as I do, Officer McDonnell,” he said, just to let the eavesdroppers know they were going to be disappointed if they thought he and Kelly had been up to something else last night.

“You really need to start calling me Kelly,” she muttered.

“Off duty today?”

She shrugged. “For about another hour. Then I'll run home and get my uniform on and come back.”

“I left you one,” he heard Sam say, and he looked up in time to see the guy biting into a pistachio bar, while holding two more on a napkin in his other hand.

The women in front of him each picked up a brownie, and then Kelly's hand hovered over the last pistachio bar.

“Don't do it,” he warned.

She grinned. “I'm wondering what you'll do for a pistachio bar.”

“Are you going to make me beg?” He dropped his voice, making the question as suggestive as possible in the hopes she'd rather put distance between them than steal his pistachio bar.

“I was thinking more along the lines of cleaning the grout in my bathroom.”

He leaned close. “If you take that pistachio bar, I'll tell you in detail, in a very loud voice that carries, exactly what I'd be willing to exchange for it. And it won't include grout.”

“Maybe
I
should buy the last pistachio bar,” Jen said, and Chase realized both women had given up being stealthy and were blatantly watching them.

“No,” Gretchen said, waving her hand between Chase and Kelly. “Please do go on. In detail.”

“What's the holdup?” somebody shouted from farther back in the line.

“Enjoy your pistachio bar,” Kelly said, tucking her money in her pocket so she could pick up her brownie.

“I think I would have enjoyed trying to get it from you more.”

Kelly walked away, but Gretchen stopped to whisper, “She would have, too.”

—

A
few hours later, Kelly fell into step beside her mom, wishing she was still in her jeans and T-shirt. It was a beautiful day, but hanging out with her friends had been a lot more fun than patrolling the street fair on foot.

“Hi, honey,” her mom said. “Having fun?”

“It was more fun before I went on duty, but everybody's having a good time and the dollars are adding up. Jen and Gretchen have been circling around emptying the fund buckets every so often, and it looks like it'll be worth the work.”

“Have I mentioned today how proud I am of you girls?”

“At least twice.” Kelly laughed and hooked her arm through her mom's. “Hey, do you have a recipe for pistachio bars?”

“No, but I could get you one. That's an odd request, seeing as how you don't like them.”

Busted.
“Asking for a friend.”

“Mmhmm.” They walked in silence for a moment but, as always, it didn't last long. “Chase told me you got the call when they broke into the school to see the trophy.”

Kelly stopped in her tracks, her arm sliding free from her mom's. The transition from pistachio bars to Chase made her wonder if Jen and Gretchen had run their mouths. And she was surprised Chase had confessed so quickly. “He told you about that?”

Her mom chuckled. “I asked when he'd seen you, and not many people lie in front of your father. Especially his boys.”

That was true. “The dispatcher called me personally even though I was off duty, thankfully. I don't think the guys would have arrested them, either, but this way I don't have to listen to it or owe anybody any favors.”

“Speak of the little devils . . .”

Kelly followed her mom's gaze to where the alumni team members were holding court on the steps of the gazebo. Though she couldn't hear them, she saw the men laughing and, of course, she couldn't look away from Chase.

He looked relaxed, standing on the top step and leaning against one of the gazebo's support beams. His mouth moved and she wished she could hear his words as the people around him laughed some more.

“Nothing there but heartache, honey.”

Her mother's words were softly spoken, but Kelly heard the message loud and clear. She could have tried to deny she was attracted to Chase, but there was no sense in it. Not with her mom. “Nobody said anything about my heart.”

“I've been keeping an eye on you today, and every time you cross paths with him, the chemistry's obvious. But there's affection there, too. You enjoy each other's company, and sex will muddy the waters. Especially if the sex is good.”

Kelly felt her cheeks grow hot, and she glanced around to make sure nobody else was in earshot. “Mom!”

“I'm just saying.”

The sex would be good. Kelly had no doubt about that. “Now that the other guys are around, we won't see as much of each other.”

Even as she said the words, they watched Chase's head turn as he scanned the area until he spotted her. They locked gazes for a long beat, and then he smiled slightly before turning back to the crowd.

“It's time to start the dunking booth,” Kelly said before her mother could comment.

It took her a few minutes to find Gretchen, who was definitely the loudest of them, so she could climb up on a picnic table and yell loud enough to be heard that it was dunk tank time. Word spread quickly through the crowd, who moved to gather around.

Coach climbed to the top step of the tank, and it seemed
like everybody sucked in a breath, which made him laugh. “No, I'm not getting in. I just want to make sure everybody can hear me.”

Years of yelling over noisy football fans had served him well, and most people could hear him. Kelly wanted to kick herself for not having some kind of microphone system or at least a bullhorn. They probably had one at the station, but by the time she could get there, her dad's speech would be over.

“Everybody having a good time?” he bellowed, and the crowd cheered. “Well, it's about to get better. The highlight of the street fair's about to start, as soon as we get a volunteer. And, because it's so much fun and it takes time to reset the platform, we're going to want five dollars for three balls.”