LITMIR.BIZ

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years ago, the policeman had put on a lot of weight. Barclay stood so the officer could sit. “George, ol’ buddy, how’s life treating you?”

      “Got the gout,” he puffed on a wheeze. “My feet hurt like a sumbitch.” He squeezed into the booth across from Molly and tugged his notebook out of his pocket. “Sarah, darlin’, get me a piece of pie and a sweet tea.”

      “I’ll get you a salad and a glass of water.”

      Barclay shot Molly a smirk at Sarah’s retort as he sat on his plastic first aid box. Molly rolled her eyes in response. And something inside him shifted. Not that he was looking for a relationship, but if she was only going to be here a few weeks, what could it hurt to enjoy some female companionship?

      “Damn bossy woman,” George mumbled in Sarah’s direction and began his questioning of the incident. When he was through, he jammed his book back into his shirt pocket. “Can you come down to the station tomorrow to sign a complaint? A man grabbing a woman on our streets don’t sit well with me. This is a fairly safe community.”

      “Since it looks like I won’t be able to work, sure. I could come by in the morning.”

      “Sounds good. I’ll see the paperwork’s ready.” He huffed and puffed as he maneuvered his girth from the booth. “Barclay, how soon you gonna have those cabins open for business? I saw the new sign you put up, changing the name to Grey’s Cottages. Sounds classier than Verne’s Cabins. Putting a new grey roof on each one was a nice touch. You gonna paint all the cabins the same color or keep the multi-colored tradition?”

      Barclay’s gaze slid to hers and he winced at her narrowed eyes. “I’ve got one just about ready to rent out. Still need to paint it, inside and out. I’ll paint them a fresher version of their original colors. I’m working on renovating the second one now. I redid mine first so the dogs and I could move in. It feels good staying there again.”

      George clasped his shoulder. “I’m glad your uncle willed you those places. Verne knew how you loved staying there with him as a kid. Having those old style cottages keeps up the charm of the town. We’ve got too many condos, you ask me.” He touched two fingers to his cap. “See you tomorrow, Miss Devon.”

      “If I’m able to walk there, yes.”

      “I’ll drive you, Molly. Remember, I told you to keep the ankle elevated and rest it?” I bet you dollars to donuts, she’s not going to listen to a damn word I’m telling her.

      “Barclay, show me the spot the attempted abduction occurred.” He stood and followed the officer outside. The rain had stopped and the humidity hovered over the area like a cloud of steam. George slipped his flashlight from his belt. “How long have you known Miss Devon?”

      “Just met her tonight at Walgreens. We got to talking and I asked her out for coffee.”

      “Damn, son, you don’t waste any time.”

      “Well, seems my charm didn’t do anything for her. She turned me down in a damn big hurry. I noticed the old bruises on her neck and arm, her jumpiness whenever someone came in the store and the way she glared at me like I was scum. Just figured she was skittish around men. I mean, I poured on the charm and she shook it off like a duck shakes off water.”

      The officer chuckled. “Smart girl, you old horn toad.”

      Barclay stopped at the rise in the sidewalk. “Here’s where she tripped when she was running. Between the downpour and the dark, she couldn’t see the uneven cement.” He retraced her steps until he found the red rope. “Here’s the rope he had tied around her wrists. So his old Blazer was parked in this spot. I pounded on him pretty good after he got behind the wheel and threatened her again. I’m pretty sure I broke his nose.”

      “You always were the hot head. You got a temper in you that can’t be tamed, yet you also got a soft spot for stray dogs, kids in trouble and damsels in distress. See why folks label you a complex conundrum.” George flashed the beam of his flashlight around the area and slipped a plastic bag from his pocket. “Roll that rope up, son, and shove it in this bag.”

      Evidence bag in hand, George ambled back to the squad car. “Have you asked yourself what would make a man drive all the way from Colorado to our little town in Florida just to bring back an old girlfriend?” The officer grunted. “Hell, there’s plenty other fishes in the sea. I got a feeling there’s more to this story than we know. Better head back to the station. By the time I fill out the paperwork on this incident, my shift will be over.” George opened the door to the squad car. “You be careful. Don’t let your pecker rule your head.”

      The officer drove off, Barclay stepped back into the diner and stilled. Molly had pulled the rubber band from her hair and was running her fingers through the wet strands that came to her elbows. God, what would it feel like to wrap it around his wrists and hold her head in place while he kissed those soft lips?

      Good thing she would only be in Indian Rocks Beach for a few weeks. With his attraction to her growing stronger by the minute, he’d be in big trouble. Since he and Yvette split up, he tended to keep his relationships short and shallow. He’d seen firsthand the damage the so-called emotion, love, could do to a person’s life.

      He slipped back into his seat. “I’ll drive you to the police station tomorrow. I’m on vacation for another day. Some of the guys from the fire station are coming to paint the cabins. I can sneak away while they work.” He smiled and reached to rub his thumb over her knuckles. Then in a self-preservation move, he pulled his hand back and wrapped it around his coffee mug. “The place you’d mentioned your family always stayed. That was my uncle Vern’s five cottages, wasn’t it?”

      She nodded. “My parents stayed there on their honeymoon back in eighty-two and came back every February for their anniversary. I was conceived there twenty-five years ago, or so my mother claimed. It was a second marriage for both of them and I was what old wives called a change of life baby.” She swiped at a falling tear. “Mom was killed in a car crash nearly three months ago on November twelfth.”

      An old pain of loss and devastation charged into Barclay’s body and sprinted toward his heart. His mother had died just as suddenly two years ago, although bits of her emotions had been killed with every beating his bastard father had given her. Yet his abusive parent had bawled at her funeral, blubbering over and over about how much he’d loved his Carol. Drunk, abusive bastard.

      “I’m sorry to hear that, Molly. You have my sympathies. My mother’s gone too. It leaves a big gap, especially when your siblings live in other states. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

      She shook her head and woeful eyes rose to meet his. “Life changes in an instant, doesn’t it? A tractor trailer hit a patch of black ice and lost control. He rammed right into her little compact. Neither my father nor I have been the same since. Dad’s grieving so badly, I don’t know how much longer he’ll last. I can barely get him to eat a proper meal. He’s been living on junk food. He’s under medication for early signs of dementia.”

      Damn, she had her problems.

      “Somehow, from picking up our rental car at the airport, Dad lost his wallet with most of our money and credit cards, my briefcase holding my laptop and my carryon of clothes. I’m a website designer back home, so I need a computer to keep my business afloat.”

      “So that’s why you’re working instead of vacationing?”

      She nodded again, the fall of her dark hair hiding part of her face. “I work the morning shift here and a few evenings at the drug store. I bought a new laptop on my credit card, but I don’t want to max it out. We’ll need it in case of emergencies and for our travel expenses from the airport in Denver to home in Breckenridge.”

      “I’ve got what used to be the apricot cottage just about finished inside. It needs both interior and exterior painting and furniture moved in. Would your dad be more comfortable there? It has a new deck that backs onto the beach.”

      A wistful expression kissed her battered

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