Julianna Morris - Honor Bound

Mitch seemed kind, but he wasn’t Ben, and it was Ben she needed. “Miss?” he prompted gently.

“It’s…Kelly,” she said, tears streaming silently from her eyes.

“You’re going to be okay, Kelly. I promise.”

She wanted to believe him, but Ben had left and her mother was dead.

How could she ever be okay again?

Sand Point, fifteen years later…

BEN SANTONI SCOWLED AT THE television van parked outside the police station. The local media had arrived early for an afternoon press conference, the recent murders being the most excitement Sand Point had seen in years. Of course, the threatening letters sent to Mayor Stone were partly to blame.

Ben’s frown deepened.

Somebody had leaked information about the death threats to the newspaper. If the Gazette reporter suggested “conspiracy” one more time…

“Hon, your fierce stare might put the fear of God in little ole criminals, but those two reporters out there don’t care,” said Vivian Cox, her voice like a rusty saw as she walked into his office.

Ben relaxed. “Which movie hero sidekick are you channeling today?”

“Hey, I’m an original, babycakes.”

That was an understatement—Vivian was five-foot-nothing, her face wrinkled beneath thick makeup, and her hair dyed a brilliant red. According to longtime residents of Sand Point, she’d worked at the mayor’s office since she was eighteen, way back when her hair was naturally that color. Mayors came and went, but Viv stayed. After just a month on duty as the town’s police chief, Ben had already learned it was wise to stay on her good side.

“What’s up, Viv?”

“Hizonor wants to know if you’ve found the author of those, and I quote, ‘smutty mystery novels.’”

“You mean the mayor actually bothered to read them?” Another voice queried wryly, this one low and very feminine.

Ben’s nerves tightened. It was the town’s public affairs officer. Kelly James was the only person in City Hall who didn’t want to talk to the media, and it was her job.

“Hasn’t read them, doesn’t intend to,” Vivian said. “Mostly he’s upset that the library is carrying so many copies. Thinks it’s a waste of taxpayer money and will ‘rot our young people’s minds.’ You know how he is on this stuff.”

“That’s nonsense. Besides, they were donated by the publisher, not purchased,” Kelly protested. “The book-buying budget has been nonexistent the past couple of years.”

“He still thinks—”

“Is there a reason you’re having this discussion in my office?” Ben asked. Loudly.

“You wouldn’t expect us to have it in the squad room, would you, Police Chief Santoni?” Kelly didn’t add “Mr. Big Shot Special Detective,” but he knew that’s what she meant.

He closed his eyes for a long second. When he’d accepted the position in Sand Point, Oregon, he’d never expected to find Kelly James working for City Hall.

That is, Kelly James Lawson.

He kept forgetting the “Lawson” part, having known her as the skinny, thoroughly annoying, kid next door when he’d visited his aunt and uncle in Sand Point. Well, except when they were eighteen and ceased hostilities long enough for each of them to discover how the other tasted. By then she’d become a leggy blond armful…who’d gotten engaged to another man just months after their summer of hot-and-heavy dating.

Hell, he shouldn’t have gotten his teenage ego in a twist over the whole thing—it wasn’t as if he’d asked her to wait for him. Why wouldn’t she take the easy route and get married after her mother was gone? People were mostly out for themselves; the trick was guessing how far they would go to get what they wanted.

When Ben opened his eyes he saw Kelly and Viv watching him, so he plastered a noncommittal expression on his face. It was just his luck that Sand Point’s police station was in the same building complex as the mayor’s office, otherwise he wouldn’t have so many visitors.

“Kelly, our beloved mayor thinks those books are smutty because folks are so eager to read them, and because of the provocative shadows on the dust jackets,” Vivian said. “They couldn’t possibly be popular because they’re exciting and well written.”

Kelly sat on the corner of the desk with her back to Ben. “How can shadows be provocative?”

Viv winked. “A man and a woman? They’ve got to be about sex. That’s how Hizonor sees it.”

Feeling ignored, which undoubtedly was Kelly’s intention, Ben lifted his copy of Deep Water and examined the cover. Those weren’t shadows; they were human figures blurred by blue water. The art was suggestive, but not in bad taste. The cover of the second novel, Deep Sea, was slightly more explicit than the first, but after what he’d seen as a Los Angeles street cop and homicide detective, it was pretty tame.

“You’d think the mayor would be more worried about the murders and getting hate mail than some books,” Ben interjected.

“He’s worried,” Vivian admitted grudgingly. “Just covering it up. This is an election year. He wants to project the image of a strong moral leader.”

“Speaking of which,” Kelly said, “I think you should run for office, Viv. A lot of people would vote for you. I even heard someone discussing it at lunch the other day.”

Viv looked appalled. “I’m not an idiot. I like being a public servant—full benefits and I don’t have to reapply every four years.”

Ben hid a grin.

Viv was smart, the mayor self-righteous and Kelly the curvaceous pain-in-the-ass widow of a local hero. God, he’d heard enough about Mitchell Lawson’s heroism to last a lifetime. There was even a plaque honoring the man in front of City Hall, lauding him to the skies. Lawson may have been a nice enough guy and a brave fireman who died in the line of duty, but nobody was that pure of heart and mind. Ben tossed Deep Water onto a nearby shelf. Tonight he’d have to read more than the first chapter and flyleaf. The death threats against Mayor Stone had referenced the books—something the Sand Point Gazette had focused on the past few days. The paper was trying to connect the dots between the real murders and the fictional ones since the elusive, bestselling author claimed to be from the local area and there were some similarities to the crimes. Ben just wished that they’d stop making people paranoid by talking about it.

Unfortunately—he checked the scene outside his office—the mayor wasn’t the only one who couldn’t resist the lure of temporary fame. Even fame on a small scale. His squad room was filled with employees primping every ten minutes in case they were interviewed and made the nightly news.

The men were the worst.

He had never seen a sorrier group of starched and pressed officers. If the crease on Detective Lasko’s collar got any sharper he’d cut his throat.

“You’re taking the press conference, right?” he asked Kelly. “Press conference” sounded grander than it really was—a few reporters, a photographer and a cameraman—but the mayor loved making it seem important.

She sent a careless glance over her shoulder. “Sorry, I won’t be there. Mayor Stone wants his stalwart new police chief at his side, assuring the public that the guilty party or parties will be caught. Isn’t it lucky you have all of those big-city crime-solving skills?”

Big city?

Sheesh.

Kelly knew he preferred city life. Okay, so he’d been less than tactful about the town a few weeks ago when talking to his uncle, the former Sand Point police chief. How could he have known she was in the kitchen, visiting his aunt? You’d have thought he’d spit on the flag the way she’d blown up at him.