A Home Come True. Cheryl Harper
the offers filling the air. “It was rhetorical. I will find a lawyer. Not Cece Grant’s husband, either.” She squeezed her eyes tightly. “Can you even imagine the storm in the paper next week?”
Jen smiled at Rebecca who chuckled. They were still weathering the rough waters that came from Rebecca’s—Holly Heights’ favorite citizen—arrest and the hubbub over their defense of Cole, the town’s latest black sheep.
“I’ll get some recommendations from my accounts in Austin,” Will murmured. “We’ll find the best.”
Sarah nodded firmly to Will. “Yes. Together we can do anything.” The color returned to her cheeks. “This is going to be fine.” She met Jen’s gaze and added, “Thanks for throwing your weight to my threat. That should have him shaking in his shoes.”
Jen narrowed her eyes, certain Sarah was teasing her.
“What can I say? You’ve grown on me.” Jen grunted as Sarah wrapped her arms tightly around her neck. An awkward pat of her shoulder provoked a watery sniff from Sarah.
“I hate pretty criers.”
Everyone laughed and Jen decided it was safe to resume her escape. Hit the door. Find some peace and quiet. Settle her nerves.
She added a step. Annoy the neighbor. If things were uncomfortable enough, they could send him back to Austin. Permanently.
“If you need me to go with you tomorrow, let me know. I’ll pack my brass knuckles.” Jen didn’t own any brass knuckles, but if she needed some, she could leave early, pick some up.
“Will’s going with me.” Sarah didn’t even glance over her shoulder to make sure he agreed. It must be nice to have someone to depend on like that.
“Okay. Call me. Let me know how it went.” Everyone called out their goodbyes as Jen grabbed her purse and stepped out into the peaceful night. Hollister was gone. That was a good thing.
She might as well be the only person on the planet at this point. Rebecca lived in the oldest part of Holly Heights where the houses were close together, but there was not a person moving. Jen headed for her car as a burst of laughter came from Sarah’s place.
All the couples were happy again. That was nice.
And the only single person in the group had left the building.
LUKE HOLLISTER TOOK a deep breath as he started up the Mustang and backed out of Rebecca Lincoln’s driveway. When he’d stopped by both Sarah Hillman’s apartment and Will Barnes’s and neither turned up his target, he’d decided to do a drive-by of known accomplices. That kind of persistence had always worked in his favor and tonight was no exception.
If he’d been able to look into a crystal ball to see a vision of facing off against four angry women, he might have tried to call first. However she’d done it, no one could deny that Sarah Hillman, formerly the pariah of Holly Heights, thanks in no small part to his best efforts, had built a formidable posse.
Sarah was tough enough. In all the times he’d tried to break her in order to find her father, she’d never once fallen apart. Even at her worst, when she’d been one step from homeless, he’d seen fear, but not the weakness he’d been searching for. The fact that she’d converted pillars of Holly Heights, the town’s newest millionaires, to friends suggested she had more going for her than he’d ever expected from a spoiled princess.
He’d been in Holly Heights less than a month and already he’d heard the praises of the Yates and Lincoln families sung. He’d met Rebecca Lincoln at the shelter. By process of elimination, the other angry woman flanking Sarah had been Stephanie Yates.
And down in front, his neighbor, Jennifer Neil. Red hair like hers, cut in some cool way he couldn’t name, caught a man’s attention. He’d never once managed to stop her outside to introduce himself when he made it a priority to know his neighbors. Now that he had a family to protect, that knowledge mattered more than ever.
All four of those women knew how to murder a man with their eyes.
And the men behind them would have finished him off with pleasure if there’d been anything left after the battle. Cole Ferguson, the ex-con he’d met at the shelter, and Will Barnes, the guy he’d tried to strong-arm into informing on Sarah, were familiar. The third guy he’d never met, but the expression had been “die” to match the rest.
He refused to feel guilty about any of the tactics he’d used in the Bobby Hillman case. It had taken longer than he’d liked, but his way had worked. Sarah had given them the tip they’d needed. So he’d been wrong about her involvement. He wouldn’t start doubting his gut now.
“At least I won’t have to see them again after next week,” he muttered as he made a slow turn in front of Sue Lynn’s diner. The place was already closed. Of course. Holly Heights was one of those places that rolled up the sidewalk at sundown. At this time of night, Austin and Houston both were nearly as bright as day. Before he’d come here, he’d imagined places like Holly Heights were myths. Wasn’t convenience a twenty-four hour thing these days?
Or at least it was in the only two cities he’d called home before leaving them behind for the “comforts” of country life.
As soon as he found one of those comforts, he might feel better about his move.
He missed the city, the noise, the convenience. Most of all he missed the work he’d done in Austin as the department’s best detective, work that had mattered.
Luke swung the Mustang into the parking lot of the only store open at this time of night. Because of its proximity to the highway, this neon one-stop shop stayed open until midnight. “Chicken it is.” Luke scanned the empty parking lot as he got out and carefully locked the car door.
Nothing moved. He didn’t feel the prickle of eyes watching him. That took some getting used to.
“Howdy, what can I get you?” the young girl behind the cash register asked. Luke studied the store. Was she here by herself? That wasn’t safe.
“Gimme the four-piece and a large drink.” Luke slid cash across the counter and took his change and the big cup she handed him. By the time she had his order ready, he’d filled his cup and studied all the security features. Cameras in all four corners of the store offered good coverage. As long as they were taping instead of placed there for show. When the store was robbed, the police would have something to work with.
He hoped there was a panic button behind the counter and thought about asking the girl. If she hadn’t been scared before, a random guy asking about her security measures ought to do it. Instead, he raised his bag in a wave and headed out to the car.
With a quick turn of the key, he opened the car door and slid inside.
Then he considered his options.
If he went home, he’d never taste one greasy bite of this chicken. The bag would be snatched out of his hand before he shut the front door behind him. “Scavengers. Every single one of them.”
He’d made the move to help his foster brother, who needed a new start and his mother was struggling to find her way, too. Still, that didn’t mean it was easy sharing this space.
Parking in front of the empty gas station to have his dinner might answer his question about whether the station had a panic button. He’d have the awkward job of explaining to his new coworkers why he was there instead of home.
Or he could drive. Luke reversed out of the parking spot and eased out onto the road that went past Paws for Love animal shelter. He was in no hurry. Luke turned up the radio so that classic rock filled his ears, cracked his window to let the sweet smell of autumn in Texas flow in and took the first piece of chicken out of the bag.
As an officer of the law, he understood that any distraction while driving