Starting Over at Lane's End (Harlequin Heartwarming) (6 page)

“Yep. Dean’s gone for the night.” Cary looked at her carefully, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “So. What do you think of my home away from home?”

“Your classroom’s nice, but I’d hate being stuck in the basement,” she said honestly.

He laughed. “So would everyone else. All of us in the math department wonder what we did to deserve this.”

He was so open with his emotions. Open and assured. She was coming to realize that with Cary Hudson, what you saw was what you got.

Obviously she had a tough time being so honest. It was in her nature to be guarded and question everything. Which was why, even though she wanted to just stand around and visit, she couldn’t do it without a reason. “Well, then...”

Teachers walked by his room, their voices floating in. Cary looked at the doorway and smiled. “Everyone’s talking basketball.”

“With good reason. That game was great.”

His eyes lit up. “It was terrific.”

When he didn’t mention going to the next one, Gen felt embarrassed. What if their kiss hadn’t meant much to him?

What if he wasn’t really over Kate?

“Well, then...I best get going.” She turned to walk away.

To her surprise, he clasped her wrist. “Gen...when am I going to see you again?”

She didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know.” Ugh. She sounded like a juvenile kid who’d just been on her very first date.

But he didn’t laugh at all. Instead a small smile played on his lips. “I’m going running tonight with Sludge. Why don’t you meet us?”

“Do you mind if Sadie tags along?”

“Not at all. Behind the Corner Café is a trail. I usually jog it a couple of times a month. Will you join me?”

She wanted to. And running with beagles sounded relatively innocent.

“I’ll be there. Six?”

“Six’s good. I’ll see you and Sadie there.”

* * *

T
HAT
AFTERNOON
AFTER
her shift, Gen called herself ten times a fool. She needed to stop mooning over Cary. She was making too much of their date and of their kiss last night. She was too excited to see him in a few hours.

This girlie giddiness was so completely unlike her. Obviously it was time to think about something else.

Making a sudden decision, she hightailed it downtown to Natalie’s Nursery and went on in.

An attractive elderly lady with a short pixie cut and hazel eyes greeted her. “May I help you?”

“I hope so. I want to take up gardening.” Gen glanced at the lady’s name tag. “Veronica.”

“Anything in particular?”

“Yep. I want to grow Easter lilies.”

“That’s excellent for this time of year!” she said brightly. “We’ve got some beautiful lilies. Come along now.”

Gen followed the lady down three aisles of various plants until they stopped in front of a collection of grubby little plants, each about four inches tall.

“Here we go.”

“They don’t look like much.”

Veronica laughed. “They will. That’s the amazing thing about flowers. Give them love, attention, water, light and they’ll turn into things of beauty.”

With determination, Gen plopped four of the sad little shoots into her cart. “Tell me what I need to do.”

Like the seasoned professional she was, Veronica loaded her up with gardening gloves, fertilizer, beautiful clay pots for each plant, potting soil and the prettiest little copper watering can Gen had ever laid eyes on. The total came to eighty-seven dollars.

Eighty-seven dollars for a hobby she wasn’t even sure would stick! Gen now knew it was official. She was an excellent cop...but when it came to hobbies, she was clueless.

Chapter Eight

C
ARY
WASN
’
T
SURPRISED
to see Gen arrive for their run on time, Sadie neatly confined to the back of her car by one of those pet gates he saw in stores. He had a feeling Gen was always punctual and organized.

As he and Sludge watched her hop out and attach a leash to her dog, he was pleased to see her bare legs under a pair of teal nylon runner’s shorts. Finely muscled and toned, they were nothing short of fantastic.

Genevieve Slate didn’t just jog every so often to stay in shape. She was about to run him into the ground.

“Hi,” she said, walking Sadie over. Within seconds both beagles circled each other, sniffing and getting acquainted. Cary was relieved to see that Sludge didn’t look hostile in the slightest; instead his tail wagged happily.

“Hi.” Pointing to Gen’s well-defined quads, he said, “I’m guessing you run more than I thought.”

“Some.” Her cheeks colored slightly. “I’ve been known to be competitive when it comes to training,” she said casually. “Give me a goal and I’ll achieve it.”

“What about your dog? Can she keep up?” Good grief, what was he doing—trying to play one-upmanship with a beagle?

“Usually.” Gen’s chin rose a little. “What about Sludge?”

“He can hold his own.”

“Let me stretch and then we’ll be off.” Without a trace of self-consciousness, she grabbed a foot and bent her leg behind her, stretching her thigh, then did the same with her other leg. After that, she leaned forward to touch her toes. Cary did his best to do the same, though his gaze kept straying.

She really was pretty.

To get his mind off those legs, he pointed to the hill behind them. “This is where the trail starts. Does that look okay to you?”

“Yep.”

“Great, then.” With an excited howl from Sludge, Cary took the lead and led them up the trail. That was the last time he felt in control.

Gen and Sadie had clearly made this run before. Nimbly the two of them tromped along the hard-packed dirt, zigzagging along the path like seasoned soldiers on a mission.

He and Sludge were used to a slightly slower pace. Okay, a lot slower. Still, they kept up, but he couldn’t resist a few jabs. “Do you always run like this?”

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Like how?”

“Full-out.”

She smiled. “Pretty much.”

Cary narrowed his eyes. Sadie looked worn out; her head drooped and she kept looking at soft patches of grass with longing. And, if he wasn’t mistaken, Gen was panting, too.

As sweat trickled down his back, he charged forward, Sludge grunting with the effort. Thankfully, it didn’t take too long to pass her. “There’s a nice stopping point a few yards from here. You want to take a break?”

“I’m fine.”

“You sure? Sadie looks tired.” He was dying!

Sadie popped her head up when she heard her name, but Gen shook her head. “No, we’re fine.”

Within minutes they approached a pair of iron benches. Cary had glanced at one with desperation when Sludge howled and pulled away.

Taken aback, Cary tripped on a root. As he tried to right himself, Sludge yanked again. This time Cary’s hand relaxed as he tried to keep from falling...but it was too late.

Sludge found freedom. Nose to the ground, the fur along his spine popped up and his tail jutted out. With a victory howl, he was off in search of rabbits.

“I’ll get him,” Gen called out, she and Sadie running to Sludge. But things didn’t go too well for her, either. She slid on a patch of damp leaves and she reached out instinctively to a nearby tree trunk to regain her balance.

It was all the invitation her dog needed. In an amazing burst of energy, Sadie ripped free of Gen’s grasp and darted through a thicket of trees, diving under a bush just as a brown rabbit hopped into view.

Gen whistled. “Sadie. Here, girl.”

Sadie looked at Gen, then turned back to Sludge’s retreating tail and the rabbit. Nature won out. Sadie shook her head, slipping her loose collar over her head and to the ground.

As the beagles disappeared into the woods, Gen groaned. “I can’t believe she just got out of her collar. She’s never done that before.”

“Sludge has escaped, but not for a while.” Cary shook his head as he walked over to stand beside Gen. “Don’t worry, though. I don’t know about Sadie, but Sludge is basically lazy. He’ll come back in a minute after he chases that rabbit.”

Gen nodded. “I hope you’re right. The last thing I want to do tonight is hunt for our dogs.”

Two happy barks echoed in the distance. “I don’t think you’ll have to. They haven’t gone too far yet,” Cary said. “Let’s give them a minute and ourselves a break.”

Wiping sweat from her brow, Gen nodded and sat down on the soft grass. “Until the dogs went wild, this was fun.”

Cary sat down next to her. “It was. You’re some kind of runner, Slate.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Gen paused for a moment before leaning against him. “I was having a hard time keeping up.”

“Keeping up?” He laughed. “You were running like a mountain goat.”

“Thanks for the comparison.”

“Anytime.” She felt so good against him, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Gen curved in a little closer, bringing a moment of peace. This was what he’d always wanted. A woman with no pretenses, a woman who was easy to be with.

Despite her skittishness, he found Gen refreshing. He liked how she tried to get along with other people and make friends. He liked how she chose to live in an upstairs apartment over Bonnie instead of taking one of the new condos on the outside of town. He liked how she ran full-out, never imagining that his pride might take a beating.

With Kate, he’d always felt that there were two different Kates—one who was by his side, the other just watching, judging. With some surprise, he realized that Kate Daniels had worn him out.

After a few moments of content silence, Gen inched away. “I guess we’d better start a search and rescue,” she said regretfully as she stood up. “It’s going to be dark pretty soon.”

“Hold on,” Cary said, reaching into a zippered pouch in his jacket. Triumphantly he pulled out a handful of dog biscuits. “Sludge! Sadie! Treats!” he called out.

Gen started laughing as a howl, followed by the sound of rustling bushes, broke the silence. In no time, the two beagles raced forward. Cary handed them each two treats.

Gen took the opportunity to slip Sadie’s collar back on and to grab the end of Sludge’s dangling leash. “I’m glad you were prepared.”

“Me, too,” Cary agreed. Holding out his hand, he said, “Let’s try a slower pace. What do you think?”

A small smile lit her eyes as she placed her hand in his. “I think that’s a fine idea,” she murmured as they headed back toward their vehicles.

As he rubbed a thumb over her knuckles, he wondered if she was as happy at that moment as he was.

* * *

“I
DON
’
T
REMEMBER
THE
last time one of us was asked to rot in hell,” Cary said as he stared at the black letters spray painted across the wall outside Kate’s classroom.

Evan frowned. “When Mitch called me at five this morning to tell me that someone had broken into the gym and left...
this,
I asked him to repeat it—slowly. I was completely shocked to find out that we’d been vandalized. I haven’t seen grafitti in this school in a couple of years.”

Cary nodded. “The last incident I can recall is when a kid threw a couple of bricks through the library window.”

They moved aside as Dave, Christy and a few other teachers joined the crowd.

Without taking his eyes from the scrawled letters, Evan said, “Anybody else get a note on their walls?”

“Not that I’ve heard,” Monique, one of the science teachers, said.

Brushing her hair back, Christy whistled low. “‘I hope you rot in hell.’ That has teenage angst written all over it.”

Evan grimaced. “This seems personal. I think we’d better have a staff meeting.”

After glancing at his watch, he said, “Immediately. I don’t want the rumor mill going crazy before we have a chance to figure out what’s really going on.” Turning to Christy, he said, “Would you mind rounding up the others? I’m going to make a quick call to the police station.”

“No problem.”

“I imagine the police are going to want to pull both teachers and students for questioning,” Evan added, looking at the scrawled words on the wall. “I’ll see if Mitch can cover this up with something in the meantime. It’ll keep the fingerprints to a minimum and help tone down some of the excitement. See you in ten.”

Turning to Kate, Cary noticed the fine lines around her mouth. “You okay?” he asked after the group disbanded.

“Honestly? I’m not sure.”

“I bet it’s just a prank.”

Kate frowned at the writing. “I don’t know about that. I’m more inclined to agree with Evan on this one. Those scrawled words feel personal.”

Though he’d been almost out of earshot, Dave turned around. “Kate, I wouldn’t stress about it. You know how kids are—they push buttons.”

Cary was impressed. Dave had been his greatest defender when Kate had left him. For Dave to try to make Kate feel better, Cary figured he was shaken up. “Dave’s right,” he said. “I’ve only heard good things about you from the kids.”

Kate shook her head. “Obviously somebody doesn’t feel that good.”

* * *

A
S
THE
STAFF
congregated in the large, modern-looking library, several teachers patted Kate on the shoulder or sent appraising looks in Cary’s direction. With some dismay, Cary realized more than one person had noticed him comforting her.

The general murmuring and chatting came to a complete stop when Evan entered, his expression grim. “The bell’s about to ring, so I’ll be quick. Here’s the deal, gang. We’ve had an incident of vandalism, near Kate’s room. I expect the police to be here shortly. Please give them your total cooperation if they ask you any questions.”

A voice called out, “When did this happen? How could a kid get into the school so early?”

“As far as I know, somebody broke a window near the gymnasium and slid in through the opening sometime this morning,” Evan replied. “Mitch found the writing when he arrived at five.” He looked at Kate. “We got the okay to paper the walls. Mitch’s doing that right now.”

“Thanks.”

Evan nodded, his expression sympathetic. “Gang, if the kids ask what happened or what was written, tell them nothing. The less said, the better.”

Kate raised her hand. “Should I trade classrooms or something? If the police are wandering around, it’s going to be tough to hold my students’ attention.”

“Let’s keep everything the same until we get more direction from...” He looked at his notes. “Officer Slate.”

Dave raised an eyebrow at Cary’s sharp intake of breath. Looking from his friend to Kate to the empty hall behind Evan, he dared to grin. “Tough day, Hudson,” he said as the bell rang.

* * *

G
EN
HAD
NO
REASON
to be agitated, but she was. She and Sam had been asked to go investigate the graffiti—Sam mainly there as backup since the lieutenant had informed her that this was to be her case.

And the case looked to be a pretty involved one.

They weren’t spreading the word, but some in the station were predicting that the slashed tires and the graffiti would turn out to be connected. Gen’s instincts told her that was right on. She’d seen plenty of graffiti and blown tires in her line of work, but not slashed tires and hate messages. Especially not in a small Mayberrylike town such as Lane’s End. For two incidents of vandalism to happen so close together, it was worth at least examining the possibility that the same person was responsible.

Gen was just considering how to question the school’s administration when Sam joined her.

“We found some fingerprints and took samples, but I doubt they’ll amount to much,” Sam said. “This prank was probably done by a student, so there’s little we can do to prove they were here last night instead of during the normal schoolday.”

“Did you take pictures of the graffiti?”

“Yep. Samples of the paint, too.”

“I’m still waiting to speak to Principal Miller.” Glancing at her notes, she said, “I think we should go ahead and give approval for the custodian to paint over the writing. Do you have a problem with that?”

“No. I feel the same way, Gen.”

His support felt good. She’d just smiled when the principal’s door opened.

“Officer Slate? Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Gen stood up. “No problem. Sam, you want to join us?”

“No, that’s okay. I’m going to deliver the evidence to the lab. See you back at the station.”

After a quick nod of acknowledgment toward Sam, she held out her hand. “I’m Gen Slate.”

“Evan Miller. Nice to meet you. Come on in.”

As Gen stepped into his office, she couldn’t hide her surprise.

Evan chuckled. “I get that a lot,” he said, motioning to the colorful array of framed artwork done by kids. The room was bright and vibrant, leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind that Principal Miller cared about children. “I never was one to need diplomas and such decorating my walls.” Seating himself behind a desk, he said, “Want a cup of coffee? I don’t function too well unless I’ve ingested a full pot.”

Gen felt herself warming to him immediately. His gray hair and easygoing attitude complemented his teddy-bear-like build. She was also a fan of anyone who liked coffee as much as she did. “I’d love a cup. I suffer from the same problem.”

While they waited for his receptionist to bring them two cups, Evan said, “I hear you’re new to Lane’s End.”

“I am. I was with Cincinnati PD for a while and in West Virginia before that.”

He grinned. “I thought I heard a hint of a Southern twang calling.”

A young woman brought in two mugs of coffee. After thanking her, Evan sipped thoughtfully. “When Mitchell, our custodian, arrived this morning, he discovered the message near Kate Daniels’s classroom and contacted me. I called the staff together, then rang the police.”