Eve started to say something, then stopped. Why was she even carrying on this conversation? She’d had her love. It was as love should be: warm and caring and gentle.
And safe.
She wanted to tamp down the last word. But she knew there was some truth in it. Her mother and father had been passionately in love in the beginning, but they were entirely different. He loved the outdoors; her mother didn’t. She was an Easterner who hated guns; guns were part of her father’s life. He liked animals and wanted his daughter to have one; her mother believed dogs belonged outside. She’d watched her mother change through the years into a bitter woman and when Eve’s father was killed in the line of duty, it had confirmed all her mother’s fears and dislikes. The day after his funeral, she’d left Covenant Falls, never to return.
Passion, Eve had learned, was not enough for any relationship. Eve hadn’t wanted to go through that, or turn into the person her mother was. She was grateful that Russ chose to be a high school coach rather than go into law enforcement or soldiering or some other dangerous profession. The irony was that he had died before her father. She shrugged. “He’s definitely not my type, and I’m most definitely not his.”
“Just how do you know that, my friend?”
“I just know it,” she said. “This whole conversation is ridiculous. My life is just as I like it right now. I have Nick. I have a great job. Well, most of the time. I like my independence. I don’t need any problems, particularly a large, walking, talking one like Joshua Manning.”
“I think thou doth protest too much.”
Maybe she did. She didn’t even know why he held such a fascination for her. She decided to change the subject, wipe that man right out of her mind, to put a new slant on an old song. “How’s Sherry doing?”
Stephanie’s eyes lit up. “Great. She’s one of the best rescue dogs I’ve had. Head of the class at field training in Denver. Stryker, on the other hand, did not do so well. He has the nose for it but not the discipline.”
“I hear you’re doing an obedience training session at the fund-raiser week from Saturday. And donating your training services to the highest bidder. You think anyone in town will admit they have unruly dogs?”
“Why not? You do.”
“What can I say? They had sorry puppyhoods.”
“True. You’re also a soft touch for anything with four legs and a tail. Which brings up a request I want to make. I need a volunteer for the obedience session. One of your tribe of little miscreants would be good. Nick can be my stooge,” she said with a grin.
“I don’t think he would care much for that description. Which specific miscreant are you considering?”
“I’ll let Nick choose, although Miss Marple would be the biggest challenge.”
“I can almost guarantee it will be Fancy. He wants everyone to see her for the gentle soul she is.”
Stephanie grinned. “He would pick the plainest one.”
“Well, Braveheart is certainly not ready to confront a crowd, and Captain Hook can’t keep still for a second. Miss Marple wouldn’t stay still long enough, either. Besides, Nick thinks Fancy is misunderstood because of her looks. He’ll want to prove to everyone that she’s charming.”
“He really should be a vet,” Stephanie replied.
“I wish. He’s fixated on detective shows. He wants to be a cop like his grandfather and catch the guys who killed him. I’m trying to steer him toward a different path. Doctor. Lawyer. Rodeo clown. Anything but a cop. Or a soldier.”
Stephanie shuddered. “Not a lawyer. Please.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m late. I have some inoculations to do at the Morgan ranch.”
“I’ll see you Saturday, then, if not before,” Eve said.
Then she was off. Eve paid the bill and left a hefty tip.
She was having second thoughts about another visit to the Hannity cabin. Steph had seen too much. More than she had. She needed to keep a distance. And yet she felt like a magnet drawn toward a lodestone.
Which made no sense. No sense at all.
CHAPTER SIX
EVE’S PLANS TO visit the Hannity cabin were thwarted by one of her least favorite people.
Al Monroe, council president, called an emergency meeting about the second burglary. He wanted something done. And he wanted a new police chief.
“Tom said he would stay with us until we find the right person,” she said.
“He’s turned in his retirement papers,” Councilwoman Callaway said.
“I haven’t accepted them,” Eve replied. “He’s willing to stay during this investigation.”
“We have a perfectly qualified candidate now,” Al insisted.
“You mean your nephew?” she said tartly. She was out of patience with Sam’s maneuvering for the job.
“He’s been with the department five years.”
“And there’ve been complaints,” she said.
Al frowned. “They were unjustified. You know they were all dropped.”
“Tom didn’t agree.” Then, unfortunately, Eve’s temper got the best of her. Al had pushed Sam on her father and had pressured Tom to keep him. She believed Al had intimidated—or bribed—complainants. “And if he’s so bright,” she continued, “why didn’t you keep him in your business?”
Al Monroe stiffened. “You know business has been slow. And Sam’s always wanted to be a police officer. He’s got a degree in criminal justice.”
“That’s very admirable, but we need someone with proved leadership skills to be chief.”
“Young lady, you work for us.”
Eve looked around the table. “I beg to differ. I was elected by the people in this town. I work for them. I will not support your nephew for chief. He’s not ready.” Then she reiterated her position to make it very clear. “We need a seasoned chief, someone with supervisory experience.”
Al looked as if he was going to have a stroke.
“Now, Al, she’s right,” another councilman said. “Sam is young and, I must admit, a little hotheaded at times.”
“Well, our current chief isn’t all that good, or we would have the culprit by now. Sam thinks it’s that new fellow out at the lake.”
“Tom’s already ran a check,” she said quickly, “not that we had any reason to do so. Mr. Manning has full title to the cabin, having inherited it from David Hannity. He’s rehabbing it, which should make all of us happy. He has an honorable discharge from the army, where he was a staff sergeant. There’s no reason to suspect him.”
“Nothing happened until he got here,” Al grumbled. “Did Tom check his alibi?”
“He doesn’t need an alibi. There’s absolutely no evidence,” Eve replied. “Anything else you want to discuss?”
“That’s all anyone cares about,” Al retorted. “Our business owners are scared.”
Eve bit her tongue and shifted the subject. “Are you all planning to be at the fund-raiser a week from Saturday?”
Five of the six members nodded.
