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Tendrils drifted down around her cheeks and her neck-the look was softer than her usual tailored approach, more Ashley's style than her own, but it pleased her, nonetheless.
While she was inside, the rain had stopped, and the sun was out, bright as polished bra.s.s.
When Melissa limped into her office, just before nine, Andrea was already there, standing in the middle of the floor like a sentinel and grasping a plain gla.s.s vase containing a huge bouquet of purple and white irises, most likely appropriated from the Crockett sisters' garden, in both hands.
"These are for you," Andrea said anxiously.
Melissa smiled, took the flowers and started to go around the nervous young woman, toward her own office. "Thanks, Andrea," she said. "But you shouldn't have. It really wasn't necessary."
"You could have been badly hurt," Andrea burst out, "or even-"
Melissa paused, frowning. "I'm all right, all right, Andrea." Andrea."
Andrea's eyes clouded over with tears. "I know you think-you think Byron was driving this morning, and that I'm covering for him, because of what happened before, to that girl, Chavonne. But I I was behind the wheel, not Byron." was behind the wheel, not Byron."
Melissa sighed, continued into her office and set the vase of flowers carefully on a corner of her desk.
They really were beautiful, dewy and vibrantly colored.
"What you do in your personal life is none of my business," she said, looking at the irises instead of Andrea. They'd both learned a lesson; now, it was time to move on.
"But-?" Andrea prompted, without inflection. Clearly, she wasn't ready to let the subject drop. Melissa, on the other hand, would have preferred to pretend that it hadn't happened.
"You've come a long way since your foster-home days, Andrea," Melissa replied, after drawing in and expelling a deep breath. "I hope you won't throw all that away by doing anything foolish."
Andrea blushed miserably. "Like going out with Byron Cahill?"
"I didn't say that," Melissa pointed out.
"You didn't have to," Andrea said. Still, there was no anger in her tone or her expression.
Melissa rested a hand on the young woman's forearm. "Okay, for what it's worth, here's my opinion. Byron has to be going through some major adjustments right now. He has a lot to deal with, and so do you. Maybe it would be better to let the dust settle a little before you get too-involved."
Andrea tensed slightly. "Because he was in prison."
"Partly, yes," Melissa answered. "And partly because both of you are young."
"Right," Andrea said, her tone turning crisp as she turned on one heel to leave Melissa's office. "I'll get your messages."
Bemused, and still aching all over from the tumble she'd taken into the gravel that morning, Melissa put her purse away, sat down in her chair and booted up her computer.
A tap at the framework of her open door alerted her to Tom's presence. Melissa smiled, and even that that hurt a little. hurt a little.
Tom glanced in Andrea's direction and then came inside Melissa's office and closed the door.
"We've got trouble," he said. His tone was solemn.
Melissa looked up at him, her smile a thing of the past. "Sit down, Tom," she said.
But he shook his head. "I've had a complaint from Ashley and Jack's neighbors," he told her. "About the guests. Since it's sort of a-delicate matter, I wanted to run the report by you before I go over there."
Melissa closed her eyes for a moment. Dammit, that bunch of geriatric outlaws were running around naked again, and this time, someone had seen them.
She did not not need this. need this.
The B&B should have been Ashley's problem, not hers.
Tom cleared his throat, and his expression was diplomatic. His eyes twinkled, though, and he wasn't in any rush to state his business, it seemed to Melissa. "They're disturbing the peace," he said.
Melissa rolled her eyes. "Disturbing the peace?" "Disturbing the peace?"
"Apparently, they're playing the stereo at top volume. Practicing the tango on the back patio." Tom drew in a breath, his eyes still dancing with amus.e.m.e.nt. "The Crockett sisters are worried that the noise will scare their fish."
"Their fish? fish?"
"You know. Those fancy goldfish they have."
"And this is my my problem because-?" problem because-?"
"Well," Tom said, "because Ashley and Jack left you in charge of the B&B, for all intents and purposes. I thought you'd want to know what was going on."
"Good heavens," Melissa said.
Tom chuckled. "I'm fixing to go on over there and have a word with those good folks, of course," he went on. "I'm sure they don't mean any harm. You can come along or stay here-your choice."
Melissa groaned as the weight of twin responsibility settled on her shoulders. "I'd better go with you."
Tom nodded. "That would probably be a good idea," he allowed, his mouth twitching at one corner, "but maybe I should go in first, just in case."
"Just in case what?" Melissa asked, feeling testy. The over-the-counter pain pills she'd taken with her morning smoothie, before leaving home, were taking the edge off, but that was about it. "Last I heard, the tango wasn't dangerous. Not for spectators, at least."
Tom gave her a wry look as he opened the office door and waited for her to step through before following.
Andrea was just rising from her chair, the usual handful of pink phone messages clutched in one hand. She looked pale, and there were faint shadows under her eyes.
"Anything important?" Melissa asked, with a glance at the messages.
"I'm not sure," Andrea admitted. "There was a call from a woman complaining that one of her neighbors is buying too much toilet paper-way more than anybody needs, especially when they live alone."
Melissa frowned, puzzled.
But Tom gave a chuckle and a low whistle that brought the faithful Elvis click-click-clicking down the hallway from his master's office on canine toenails and said, "Sounds like the same old controversy Aunt Ona has to deal with every year when rodeo time rolls around."
"Mr. Creed called, too," Andrea added, while Melissa was still pondering Tom's cryptic remark. "I guess he didn't have your home number. Anyway, he said he and Matt really enjoyed supper last night and they'd like to reciprocate as soon as possible."
Melissa blushed slightly. "Okay," she said, avoiding Andrea's gaze. She could actually feel feel Tom's grin, though she didn't look at him, either. Tom's grin, though she didn't look at him, either.
"We'll be back in a while," Tom explained to Andrea.
Out of the corner of her eye, Melissa saw Andrea nod before turning and going back to her own desk.
Moments later, Tom, Melissa and Elvis were in the squad car.
Melissa flipped through the messages to make sure there was nothing urgent, then shoved them into her purse. All except for the toilet paper concern, of course.
The caller, not surprisingly, had been Bea Brady, one of the more vocal members of the Parade Committee. She'd spoken up during the meeting out at Creekside Academy, Melissa remembered.
"Some people," she said, with a long sigh, "have way way too much free time." too much free time."
Tom's mouth quirked at one corner. Elvis, meanwhile, sat in the middle of the backseat, behind the metal grill. "I suppose you realize," he said dryly, "that there are a few people around Stone Creek who'd say that about us. The big joke down at the barbershop is that I don't even need to load my service revolver-I can just carry a single bullet around in my shirt pocket, like Barney Fife."
A giggle escaped Melissa, in spite of everything, but when she spoke, she was utterly serious. "Sometimes I think I'm in the wrong line of work," she admitted, surprising herself as well as Tom.
Tom, already signaling to turn onto Ashley's street, cast a quizzical glance in her direction. "Really?" he asked. "You worked pretty hard to earn that law degree and pa.s.s the bar exam and then build a resume. What would you do if you weren't a lawyer?"
As the alley between the Crocketts' and the B&B came into focus, toward the end of the block, cell memory must have kicked in, because Melissa felt the impact of her fall all over again, as if it had just happened.
"Interesting question," she murmured in response. Before the breakup, she and Dan had agreed on a general plan: she would take a few years off from her career when she felt ready, help raise his two boys, have at least one baby, try out some of the domestic arts, like cooking and decorating, a la Ashley. "And I don't think I know the answer."
And that was probably the whole problem, she reflected. She not only didn't know what she would do if she didn't practice law, she didn't know who she would be. be.
She'd been so sure that she loved Dan, wanted to make a life with him, but when it came time to set a date and to actually get married, get married, Melissa had panicked. Dan, who'd been patient for a long time, had been coldly furious, and then he'd delivered an ultimatum; she had forty-eight hours to make a decision, one way or the other: marry him, or call it quits. Melissa had panicked. Dan, who'd been patient for a long time, had been coldly furious, and then he'd delivered an ultimatum; she had forty-eight hours to make a decision, one way or the other: marry him, or call it quits.
Melissa hadn't needed forty-eight hours, or even forty-eight seconds. seconds.
She'd called it quits.
Of course, she'd expected Dan to come around in a day or two-a week at the longest-with flowers and sweet talk, the way he had every other time they'd ever disagreed about anything, large or small, but that time was different. There was no soft music, no steamy makeup s.e.x, no anything. Within a week, in fact, Dan was dating a waitress, the woman he'd since married.
"Well," Tom said, drawing the cruiser to a stop in front of the B&B. "We're here."
"Yes," Melissa said, squinting her eyes and peering at the front of her sister and brother-in-law's gracious house. "Let's get this over with."
Tom chuckled, unfastened his seat belt and got out of the car. Reaching the sidewalk, he opened Melissa's door for her, then released Elvis from the back.
Even from where they stood, the sounds of merriment coming from behind the house were clearly audible. There was spritely guitar music, laughter, cheering and loud, enthusiastic applause.
"d.a.m.n," Melissa muttered, shaking her head, as Tom opened the front gate and waited for her to walk through ahead of him.
"You can wait here if you want to," Tom offered, as Elvis trotted happily ahead, nose to the ground.
"It isn't as if I've never seen a naked man before, you know," she said.
Tom laughed. "Huh?"
Unwittingly, she'd just revealed her secret fear: that the B&B guests were naked again. "You know what I meant," Melissa replied, with a little snap to her tone.
Tom remained amused. "By the way," he went on, "what's the matter with you? You flinched every time I took a corner on the way over here, and I'd swear you're limping a little."
He'd taken the lead, following the walk that ran alongside the house and into the backyard with its high fences and sheltering trees, but he looked over his shoulder at her as he spoke.
Melissa raised and lowered her shoulders. Carefully. "I took a little spill when I was running this morning," she said. "It's no big deal."
Elvis, having reached the backyard, began to bark. The sound was the purest joy, and Melissa had to smile.
Tom stopped in his tracks as soon as he'd rounded the far corner of the house, and Melissa, bringing up the rear, almost collided with him.
"I'll be d.a.m.ned," he murmured.
She peeked around him.
And there was the Wild Bunch, the men dressed like matadors, except for their hats, the women in flamenco outfits and holding roses in their teeth, tangoing like mad across the wide stone patio.
The music, pouring from a boom box, was deafening.
Elvis stood near the edge of the patio, a delighted witness to the festivities, barking his brains out as he followed the action.
Spotting Melissa and Tom, John Winthrop hurried over to crank down the volume on the boom box. He was wearing one of those round hats trimmed with tiny pom-poms.
The other man in the group finished up the dance by dipping his partner.
Melissa, more impressed than she would have admitted to Tom Parker or anyone else, could only a.s.sume that osteoporosis wasn't an issue in this particular crowd.
Tom cleared his throat, then summoned Elvis to his side.
Melissa stepped up next to him, concentrating on one thing. Not laughing.
"Why, it's Melissa," said Mr. Winthrop, beaming, taking off his hat and bowing deeply. "How nice to see you again!"
"That's quite a costume," Melissa said.
"Rented," Mr. Winthrop replied. He drew in a deep, robust breath and let it out in a whoosh. "We got to talking about our trip to Spain-we went three years ago-and I guess we got a little carried away by all the memories."
"There's no costume-rental place in Stone Creek," Tom said, sounding suspicious.
"We called a shop in Flagstaff," Winthrop explained jovially. "They were kind enough to deliver."
"Oh," Tom replied, clearly at a loss.
"The neighbors are complaining about the music," Melissa told the gang. "It was too loud."
The women looked annoyed. The men were crestfallen. Melissa felt like the original wet blanket.
"Well, I guess there's no harm done," Tom allowed. "If you'll all just keep the noise down a little, everybody will be happy."
"Not everybody," said the woman in the in the red dress, trailing ruffles behind her and fiddling with the Spanish comb in her hair.
"We'll behave," Mr. Winthrop promised.