In Seconds. Brenda Novak
imagined Vivian as she’d been last night. She hadn’t behaved like the woman who’d done her best to ignore him over the past few months, to stay out of his way. That signified a marked change, too, didn’t it?
Or maybe not. Their feelings toward each other had been changing for some time, growing more intense. On both sides. Until last night, Vivian had hovered on the edges of his life, remaining safely out of reach. But for the first couple of years after Amber Rose died, she could’ve run naked across his lawn and it wouldn’t have raised his pulse by one beat. “In what way?” he asked.
Chrissy adjusted the strap of her blouse, which had slipped off her shoulder. She dressed as if she was one of the cheerleaders she coached—short shorts, skimpy tops and always a bow. “I don’t know. Spooked. Guilty.”
“So…how do you think this firearm you saw ties in to the murder? My deputy said—”
“It’s not every day someone drops a handgun coming out of a bank!” She put her purse on the floor, leaning forward to give him a clear view down her blouse.
Averting his eyes, he straightened his stapler. “I realize that. But a lot of people own guns around here. And the murder wasn’t committed with a firearm. So bear with me. I’m searching for a link.”
Her nails clacked as she tapped them together. “Something’s up, okay? That’s all I’m trying to tell you.”
For some reason, Myles liked Chrissy even less than he had before. She wasn’t bad-looking, but her personality… He’d heard rumors about how bossy she could be and how poorly she treated her husband. They ran a secondhand shop together, situated near the bank. He’d felt sorry for Mr. Gunther before, when Chrissy came on to him at the annual crab feed or at the bar. But driving all the way out here just because she had a tidbit of information? A tidbit about someone she viewed as a rival for his attention? That made him feel even worse for the poor bastard who’d married her.
“I’ll look into it,” he said. And he planned to. He’d forgotten to give Marley money to go to the bowling alley with her best friend this afternoon, so he had to drive back to Pineview, anyway. “Thanks for stopping by.”
She jumped to her feet. “If you’d like me to go over there with you, I will.”
He made a gesture that suggested she needn’t trouble herself. “That won’t be necessary. But…can I ask you one more thing?”
Her face lit up. “Of course!”
“How well do you know Vivian?”
“Not very well,” she confided. “I met her when we both helped out at the school last year—our girls are in the same grade. I invited her to one of my jewelry parties, but she canceled the day before.” Chrissy wrinkled her nose. “She’s not very social. I don’t know what her problem is, but I’m beginning to think she’s hiding something.”
She was hiding something. She was hiding herself and her children. An abusive ex would motivate anyone to keep a low profile, maybe even buy a gun. But he planned to check out Chrissy’s report, just in case.
Chrissy hesitated at the door. “Oh, and, Sheriff?”
“Yes?”
“I’m not sure if this is important, but in light of recent events, I think it might be.”
“What’s that?”
“When Vivian first arrived in town, her daughter told my daughter that she moved here because ‘bad men’ were chasing them.”
Myles came to an abrupt stop. He might’ve expected “a bad man.” But men? As in more than one?
Was this a lie Vivian had concocted for the sake of her children? So they wouldn’t have to know that it was their father causing all the trouble? “Did she say who those bad men might be?”
“No. But it had to do with someone breaking into their house, someone who was shot and had—” she made quotation marks with her fingers “—‘blood coming out all over.’”
Another surprise. He had no idea what it meant, and yet he felt the urge to defend Vivian and Mia. “That could be make-believe, something she saw on television.”
“I know it sounds far-fetched. I thought the same thing at first. I mean, not every mother is as diligent about what their children watch as I am. But now I wonder…”
Myles wondered, too. Was Mia speaking about an actual event? If so, how did this tie in to what Vivian had told him? Was there one man she feared—or more? Did she really have an abusive ex?
And, if so, had she killed him?
Myles stood on her porch. Vivian could see his blurry image through the misted oval glass, recognized the blue of his uniform and knew why he’d come. Because of Chrissy. Buster wouldn’t have bothered the sheriff. Buster wasn’t a nosy troublemaker like Hope’s mother, who was generally known as the bane of the elementary school staff, if not the whole town. Unfortunately for Mia, Hope was turning out much the same. Before school ended for the summer, Hope had purposely excluded Mia from her popular clique.
Frowning, Vivian pushed away from her computer, where she’d been using Gchat to convince Claire that Pat’s murder had nothing to do with her mother’s disappearance. She’d been answering some of the emails that’d flooded her box over the past twenty-four hours, too. The blue-jean cutoffs and Little Big Town T-shirt she’d donned when she got home wasn’t really what she’d choose to wear in front of guests, especially male guests. But she didn’t want Mia to know the sheriff had come, didn’t want her to overhear the questions Myles might ask. So she got up and hurried to answer before he could ring the bell.
Fortunately, he knocked first, and not very loud. He could probably see her inside the living room, just as she could see him on the porch.
Determined to keep their encounter as brief as possible, she opened the door slightly. “Yes?”
When his gaze dipped to her chest, she knew he’d already noticed that she wasn’t wearing a bra. It’d taken less than a millisecond for her breasts to become his focal point and raise the tension between them. But the tension itself was nothing new. That was why she’d been bold enough to proposition him last night. She’d never dreamed he’d refuse her.
“Vivian.” He bent his head.
Forcing a polite smile, she used a similarly formal tone. “Sheriff. How are you today?”
“I’ve been better.”
So had she. For a lot of reasons. The most pressing was Rex. She couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d once meant to her, couldn’t stop wondering if he was still alive and whether or not she’d contributed to his downfall. Although she’d grown used to living with fear, guilt was new and more difficult to tolerate. Then there was the embarrassment she’d been trying so hard to avoid. With Myles standing less than two feet away, it was virtually impossible to shove the memory of her offer and subsequent rejection into the recesses of her mind.
She considered apologizing for her behavior and blaming it on the wine, but she wasn’t one for excuses. The alcohol hadn’t changed how she felt, only revealed it. He probably understood that as well as she did. Besides, if he thought she was a tramp, maybe he’d make her life easier by staying away from her and refusing to let Jake hang out with him.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She paused, but he didn’t take the opportunity to come to the point of his visit. Instead, silence fell.
“Can I speak with you for a few minutes?” he asked when she didn’t invite him in, as he’d obviously expected.
“Of course.”
His eyebrows slid up. “Do we have to do it right here?”
Mia would be less likely to overhear if they chatted on the porch. “Why not? It’s a beautiful day. I’ll join you.”