Renegade's Pride. B.J. Daniels
Flint cleared his voice and went back to sheriff mode. “I also wanted to ask about Jenna Holloway.”
“We heard that she’s missing,” Maggie said. Flint seemed surprised for a moment. Like her, he probably forgot sometimes how news traveled in this small town.
“Did she have her hair done here?”
“Daisy was just talking earlier about the last time Jenna was in.”
“Anything unusual happen?”
“Kind of. She was a walk-in. So that was odd. She always made an appointment way in advance. Also, when she sat down in the chair, she said she wanted a new do, which might mean absolutely nothing. Except that she’d had the same hairstyle as long as I’ve known her. I don’t think it was an impulsive decision. I think it had been coming for some time.”
Flint nodded. “Jenna was one of the least impulsive people I’ve ever known. Isn’t that what you got from her?”
Maggie chuckled. “I’d put her in the top five for sure.” She could tell that he was worried. “If I hear anything...”
He smiled. “Thanks.” He had a great smile that made his gray eyes crinkle. She was almost sorry he was so handsome. Wasn’t there a country song about why a man should marry an ugly woman? She thought it might go both ways.
Daisy returned with her milk shake and Flint left after saying, “See you tonight.” His stopping by, even on sheriff’s department business, made her day. See you tonight. She smiled as she began to clean up around her workstation. Angie still hadn’t shown up.
When she’d finished, she glanced at the clock on the wall. “Maybe I better call Angie. It isn’t like her to forget a hair appointment,” she said, picking up the phone.
“Mine’s late too,” Daisy said. “Maybe there’s a traffic jam.” They both chuckled at that, since they didn’t even have one stoplight in town and most people felt stop signs were just suggestions. Gilt Edge was a small town with small-town problems. Traffic wasn’t one of them. Daisy sucked on her straw. “Oh, this shake is to die for.”
Maggie dialed the number. It rang four times before voice mail picked up. “Just wanted to remind you about your hair appointment, Angie. You’re probably on your way.” And yet, as she hung up, she had a bad feeling that something must have happened.
* * *
DARBY TOOK ONE look at Lillie the next morning when she came down to the kitchen at the back of the bar and let out an oath. “Rough night?”
He had no idea. “I had trouble getting to sleep.”
“Probably worried about that bear you thought you saw.”
Something about the way he said it put her on alert. “Probably. I’m just glad I have the day off. I think I need it.”
“I looked around out back this morning when I got here,” he said, his gaze intent on her face. “I didn’t see any tracks. At least no bear tracks.”
“That’s good to hear. I’m sure I imagined it,” she said, trying to laugh it off. “It was probably just the stress of Dad being arrested and all that.”
“Lillie, if there’s more bothering you—” Darby handed his sister a cup of coffee. “Seriously, if you aren’t feeling well—”
She cut him off with a shake of her head as she took the coffee. “Thanks. I’m fine.”
“Flint called earlier,” her brother said.
Her pulse thundered in her ears. She tried to keep her face blank. Her first thought was that Flint had caught Trask. Which meant he was either behind bars or possibly dead.
“What did Flint want?” She hated that her voice broke.
“Said he wanted to get together soon and talk about Dad. It felt more like he was checking up on one of us than Dad, though.” She saw worry in Darby’s expression and knew at once which of them might cause a person to worry.
Lillie wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or not. At least Flint hadn’t been calling about Trask. “Did you tell him we’re all fine and we don’t need him checking up on us?”
“No, I saved my breath, since we both know it wouldn’t do any good.” He frowned and studied her openly. “You did have a rough night, huh? You should try to get a nap today. Otherwise, I pity Wainwright.”
She stared at him, uncomprehending. “Wainwright?”
“Your big date with him tonight. Don’t tell me you forgot.”
“That’s tonight?” She let out a curse and slapped her palm against her forehead. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any more complicated.
“You can always renege on the bet.”
The one thing a Cahill never did was renege on anything. Even a stupid bet. “You know I can’t do that. Maybe he had enough to drink that he won’t remember.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” Darby said. “He likes you and has for some time, but I think you already know that.”
Junior Wainwright had asked her out several times over the past few years. Then he’d caught her at a weak moment a week ago when he’d suggested they let fate decide if she should go out with him. He was in the bar drinking with friends and everyone was having a good time.
“One date, dinner, maybe dancing, definitely champagne,” Junior had said. “Your luck against mine.” He had rattled the leather container with the dice in it that was kept behind the bar to roll for drinks or money for the jukebox.
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