Jennifer Morey - The Librarian's Secret Scandal

She thought fast. “Robbery.”

The officer’s eyebrows lifted.

“Must be someone close to you if you’re willing to visit him here.”

“He’s just a … a … friend.”

The officer’s eyebrows lowered and her eyes turned sympathetic. She knew why Lily was lying.

Lily met her gaze and hoped she read the message not to say anything. When the officer remained a silent observer, she didn’t know if that was worse. Pity was for the vulnerable.

“You’ve been away from Honey Creek for a while,” Wes said, appearing oblivious to the exchange. “What brought you back?”

Another subject she didn’t particularly want to discuss. But he wasn’t pressing on her reason for being here so she wouldn’t complain. “My dad. His health isn’t so great right now. Stage two stomach cancer. He’s gone through the surgery, but he’s still in treatment and we don’t know how things will progress from here. I came back to help him. Without Mom around it’s hard for him to care for himself.”

He nodded and his blue eyes showed his admiration. They also showed self-assurance and intelligence that went along with his honorable reputation. She checked his left hand. No ring.

“That’s very kind of you to do that,” the officer said, sounding out of place in the conversation. Was that because she’d noticed Lily looking at Wes?

Checking for a ring. Oh, lord….

He had really nice hands. She’d heard he was a nice man, too. And a sheriff..

Something about that appealed to her.

She stopped herself short. Why was she thinking like this? She hadn’t been back in Honey Creek long, and was too caught up in the gossip going around about her to pay much attention to potential love interests. She didn’t want to get involved with anyone. So why had those thoughts even crossed her mind? Was she interested in Wes? He was attractive, but …

Lily tipped her head back and looked up at the big, blue sky. “At least the weather is nice.”

Wes looked up with her, but not for very long. He was studying her again.

“Sure is,” the officer said, drawing out the word sure suggestively.

And Lily snapped her head down to see the officer smiling.

The officer turned to Wes. “So, you’re a sheriff?”

“Yes. Honey Creek County.”

“Oh, well,” the officer beamed, “Lily’s in good hands then.”

Wes chuckled.

Lily loved the sound. “Should we call for a tow now?”

“Of course,” the officer cooed. “And then maybe you could let Sheriff Colton drive you back home in your truck, Lily,” the officer suggested, doing a bad job of pretending to be nonchalant. “He’ll be needing a rental car anyway.” Her smile was more genuine now, but held a tinge of slyness. Maybe she understood why Lily had lied and only wanted to make sure she made it home all right.

Not.

The officer had noticed their exchange and was now matchmaking. Was she like this with all the victims?

“Sure.” Anything to be gone from here as soon as humanly possible. She looked at Wes. “I can drive you back to Honey Creek.”

He dipped his head. “I’d appreciate that.”

After the tow truck had left with Wes’s SUV and the prison worker had gone back into the building, Wes got into Lily’s pickup. As she started the engine, he covertly looked at her. She had thick, long black hair and a pair of amazing blue eyes. Her breasts were just the right size and shape in the short-sleeved collared cotton shirt she wore, and she looked nice in the knee-length jean skirt.

She started driving. He hadn’t argued over who should drive. He thought he should, but he also had the impression she needed the control … or the sense of it. He faced forward. The truck was quiet and she stayed focused on the road.

It was strange thinking of her as the wild and uninhibited woman she’d been before she left town. She seemed like such a lady now. Professional. Friendly, if a little nervous. He wasn’t sure if it was the accident or the real reason she’d come to the prison. He knew she hadn’t been telling him the truth when she said she’d come to see someone. She got a scared look when she’d told him. And the way she’d said just a friend signaled a lie. Just a friend, yeah, right. Whoever she’d come to see, he wasn’t her friend. Besides, that whole exchange with the prison officer had been weird.

He’d gotten good at recognizing when someone wasn’t on the up-and-up. Too many times he’d trusted his first impressions only to learn it was all a facade, especially with women.

Now he was more than a little curious about what had brought Lily to the prison. He’d make a call in the morning. He knew people at the prison.

“Have you always lived in Honey Creek?” Lily asked.

Good. She felt like talking. “No, I moved away after high school and joined the navy.” He didn’t want to get into his SEAL training. It had been a youthful impulse, but as soon as he’d grown up enough he’d realized the daredevil employment wasn’t really all that impressive. It didn’t pay well, either. Neither did being a sheriff in a little town like Honey Creek, but he liked the sense of community and being close to his family—however dramatic they could be at times.

“How did you go from the service to law enforcement?” she asked.

“After I was with the navy, I went through training and worked as a peace officer for a while. Worked my way up the ranks and then ran for sheriff here.”

“You’ve been back some time then?”

“A few years.”

She nodded conversationally.

He was glad she didn’t ask more about his background with the navy. “You have a daughter, don’t you?” he asked just in case, redirecting the topic.

The smile that formed on her profile was warm and lovely. The sight revved his interest. When he’d first seen her get out of her truck, he’d almost forgotten all about the wreck. She was tall, which he liked since he was six-two, and slender and she had smooth skin.

“Yes,” she answered. “May. She’s fourteen going on thirty. Or so she thinks.”

Wes smiled in return. “Sounds normal. I put my parents through hell at that age, too.”

“She’s adorable until she opens her mouth. And boys don’t have those hormones affecting their emotions.”

He chuckled. “It’s different, but I think the torment is the same.”

Now she chuckled. He liked the sound. It was soft and genuine.

“How long has it been since you left Honey Creek?” he asked.

“Fifteen years.”

That sparked his interest. “You were around when Mark Walsh was supposedly murdered.”

“Yes. I remember that.”

Some of the gossips said she’d slept with him, too. He saw her lips tighten and she adjusted her grip on the steering wheel, almost as if she were preparing herself for questions; or maybe she wondered if he thought what most others thought and didn’t like it.

“When was the last time you saw him?” he asked, watching her.

She gave him a warning glance. “Are you wondering if I knew where he went instead of dying like everybody thought?”

“I’ll try anything if I think it might help me find his killer.”

“The last time I saw him was at the post office with his wife, about a month before he died … or everyone thought he did.”

“He never contacted you after that?”

“No.” Her voice sounded sharper. She knew why he’d asked that question. The rumors. Could she blame him? He had no way of knowing unless he asked.

Before he could explain that, she added in the same sharp tone, “And just for the record, I didn’t sleep with him.”

He almost smiled at her defensiveness. He’d bet his badge that she was telling the truth. When some people lied, their defensiveness gave them away. But Lily’s was driven more by vulnerability. He wondered if she knew that about herself. that she protected her vulnerability with defensiveness.