Worked to Death (Working Stiff Mysteries Book 2) (4 page)

"Never underestimate the power of a hissy fit." —Things We Say in the South

Officer Devon Keith, without the mirrored sunglasses, was even more attractive than I could have imagined. And, despite the fact that we'd had a little run in just a short while earlier, I still found myself inexplicably attracted to the brute.

Get a grip, Mandy.

In an attempt to quash my attraction to el-toughie, I gave him a stern frownie face.

"Oh, Devvie, have you met Mandy?" Ms. Maimie cooed toward the six-foot-four cop who sauntered our way.

Devvie?

My darned face betrayed me with a smile. He returned the smile with a slight upturn of his mouth in my direction followed by a heart-stopping smile directed at his grandmother. He walked right into her warm embrace, and I had a sudden urge to stand up and yell "group hug."

Good Lord, get a hold of your hormones.

"Momma Maimie, we met this morning at a crime scene. Unfortunately." He responded to his grandmother in a much softer voice than I'd heard this morning.

"Well, it wasn't really a crime scene as I'd sort of moved the body." My mouth blurted out the information before I could remind it to remain silent.

Both Devvie and Ms. Maimie turned in my direction. He looked down at me, and I felt small. Very small. Ms. Maimie put her hand to her chest.

"Oh my, that's right. Were you the one who pulled her over? I didn't even think about that when Cletus told us about the situation this morning. Was she frightened? Did you comfort her?" Ms. Maimie looked back and forth between us. Her tone was all innocence, but I knew what my lifelong friend was doing. She was trying to set us up.

And I couldn't say that I was totally against the notion. Well, except for that part where he'd manhandled me unnecessarily and I'd been too shocked to even enjoy it. I sat back and crossed my arms over my chest defensively.

"Yes, we met and he comforted me by slamming by body up against the dirty truck. Apparently, he thought I was the prime suspect. 'Cause, you know, I look so devious and all." Again, I couldn't seem to squelch my emotions from pouring out around this man.

"Devvie, you didn't." Ms. Maimie's tone was serious this time around. I caught a hint of embarrassment. Something that didn't come out of this former Vegas showgirl all that easily—I knew this to be a fact.

He looked down at her with true remorse and gave a nod. "I'm sorry, Momma Maimie, but it was a misunderstanding."

She gave his cheek a pinch and pointed to the bar. "Well, come on over, and I'll get you something to eat."

He grinned and turned to follow her, but she placed a hand on his chest to stop the forward progress.

"After you apologize to Mandy. She's a close friend of mine and an absolute sweetheart. Why don't you invite her over for dinner tonight? I'm on duty 'til nine, but Mandy is always hungry, and it would be a nice gesture to apologize for your misjudging of her." Her words were matter-of-fact, as if she wasn't really suggesting these arrangements but confirming them.

With that, she turned and stalked away, her high heels ricocheting in her wake, and the two of us watching her departure in total silence.

He turned to face me, apparently not happy with his grandmother's uninvited scheduling of his evening's plans. Or maybe he just wasn't happy with her forcing him into a dreaded apology.

I could let him off the hook, but watching him squirm even a little bit was a nice change from his normal in-control, emotionless face.

"Uh, well. I am sorry that I might have been a little rough on you earlier." His voice was very low in tone, and I leaned my head forward to try to make out his words.

"I'm sorry. I didn't catch that." I couldn't help but to pull his chain a little.

"Captain vouches for you, and if Momma Maimie thinks you're
this
amazing, I do apologize for thinking the worst of you this morning—but with the dead body on the back of your truck and all…"

I gave him a smile. "And maybe I look a little less crazy now that I'm wearing dry clothes, and my hair isn't going all cuckoo?"

"I liked your hair wet." He stared straight into my eyes, and my body melted down into the booth's seat.

Hubba hubba.

"Well, thank you. But don't worry about tonight. I have other plans anyway." I didn't
really
have other plans, but I wasn't about to force him to ask me out, or "in" as the case may be. A girl had her pride.

Sort of.

"Uh, yeah. Probably not a good idea. Since the case is still pending and all."

I squished my lips together and then pretended to scrub some invisible stain off the table with my napkin.

He cleared his throat as if he didn't know how to remove himself from this awkward situation.

But, as if the world hadn't already slung enough mortification my way today, a small voice spoken very loudly came from behind Officer Studly. I recognized it immediately as coming from my sister, but good old Devvie wasn't prepared for what was headed his way.

"Stick 'em up, copper!" she said in a sort of off-kilter imitation of a New York nineteen twenties gangster.

I really
had
to talk to Ms. Lanier about her television viewing habits.

But before I could explain my sister's sudden obsession with all things cable television, his face turned from awkwardly calm to cop-on-steroids. He reached behind his back, swirled my rag doll of a sister around, and lowered her to the floor before I could get out her name.

"Paget…no!" I was saying as he held her limp frame on the ground, his muscles bulging, and then she started screaming.

And for the second time today, Officer Keith had taken down a Murrin.

This had to be some kind of record.

*  *  *

Paget sat in the booth, rocking back and forth and mumbling something under her breath. One of the things about her condition that never changed was that she didn't like to be touched. Sometimes she tolerated it from me, and every once in a while, she'd cuddle up with Ms. Lanier or let Sundae fix her hair. But, mostly, she decided when to be touched. If someone even grabbed her hand when she was not expecting it—she'd have an episode.

And Officer Keith's non-lethal weapons combat training maneuver was just a little too much for my little sister. Currently, he was sitting on a nearby bar stool, and Ms. Maimie was speaking to him in low tones while I tried to calm my sister.

Other diners were looking between my booth and the bar in open curiosity. They'd all seen Paget before and most knew about her condition. But I imagined that with the big public display starring the new guy in town, this was as good of entertainment as you could get in Millbrook short of buying a ticket to the Millbrook Player's version of
The Twelve Hays of Christmas: A Local Farmer's Romantic Comedy
that was currently playing just down the street.

"It's okay, Page. Let's just go home. We can get something to eat there. You wanna get out of here?"

She wasn't answering me. More rocking and more mumbling.

I tweezed Ty's cell phone out of my pocket with my index finger and thumb and checked the time. I had to be down at the station in twenty minutes. Apparently, Ty wanted my official statement. I only wanted a solid lunch before I had to get my sister back to her afternoon care, and I had to work my second job at the blood donation clinic.

I waved at Ms. Maimie who was now watching our booth with a worried look creased on her brow. I mouthed the words "to go" and she nodded.

Officer Keith had the decency to look ashamed of his actions. I gave him a pointed look, and he glanced away. That was the first time he'd ever broken eye contact with me. He suddenly didn't seem so tough.

I wondered why he was so touchy. I mean, overreact much? Geez.

Ty had mentioned that he'd relocated here from Atlanta, and I assumed that cops had to be on their guard much more over there than they did in small town Alabama. But he was like on constant alert to the point of being dangerous. I'd have to talk to Ty about it. This just wasn't going to mesh well with laid-back Millbrook. There were rare times when teenage girls needed to be tackled to the floor of the café.

Ms. Maimie brought over a brown paper bag with the café's fork and spoon logo on it and handed it to me. She opened her mouth as if to speak but then thought better of it. She squeezed my hand as I took the bag and gave her a smile.

I knew she felt terrible about what had happened, and I suddenly wondered if Devvie should be more afraid of Ms. Maimie than he should be concerned about Ty's reaction.

"Come on, Paget. We'll take our food with us to the station. Let's go see Ms. Quick. I'm sure she'll have some paperclips for you."

Paget perked up at the mention of our friend Ms. Linda Quick. She was the secretary at the police station, and she also ran the nursery at church. She'd been working with Paget on Sundays, and Page had really taken to working with the toddlers. For whatever reason, they both adored her and somehow calmed her. When Ms. Quick had mentioned the idea to me, I'd been certain that all those little sticky hands on Paget would be like a nightmare. But it had turned out to be a sort of therapy.

And Ms. Quick was one of Paget's new fave people.

She stood and followed me out of the café. Never looking back.

We pulled into the station parking lot only a few minutes later. As we entered the building, Ty was stepping through the stairwell door on our right.

"Oh, good. Glad you made it down. How are you, doll?" His first comments were directed at me. But the "doll" was for Paget.

She kept her head down. No response for Tall Ty today. This episode may have affected her more negatively than I'd thought.

Ty's eyebrows rose in response.

"We had a little incident at the café," I offered.

"Oh?" he asked.

"It seems your new officer is a little too quick on the draw these days."

"The draw? Did he draw his weapon?" I could see the fear in his eyes.

"No. Poor choice of words. But he did pin Paget to the floor for no reason at all."

"He
what
?" The little muscle in Ty's cheek began to throb, and I knew this was a bad sign.

"Well, Devvie was a little startled when Paget approached him from behind, and she did tell him to stick 'em up…but I still think he overreacted—second time he's done that today."

He'd listened closely while he seemed to be giving Paget the once over. Checking for signs of injury I guessed.

"Wait, did you say
Devvie
?"

I swallowed and heat began to creep up my face. As one of Irish heritage, I rarely kept my emotions hidden. My pale skin rarely tanned, and every blush gave me a natural rosy-cheeked appearance.

"Officer Keith. Did you know he was Ms. Maimie's grandson?" I tried to move the conversation forward. But Ty's eyes were piercing me.

They weren't quite shooting daggers, but they stung nonetheless.

"Are we on a first name basis with Officer Keith now?" he asked, his voice steady, but I thought I noted a hint of possessiveness.

"Ty, it's nothing. It's not like he's sending me nude selfies or anything."

His mouth dropped open, and he reached down in search of the phone that was normally clipped to his belt and then back up at me.

I was holding his phone out toward him. "Sorry. I forgot to return this to you before I left with Sundae."

"How did you—? Oh my God, Mandy. Why were you looking at my messages?" His brain pieced it together, and thank goodness he had the sense to look embarrassed.

Oops.

"Ty don't worry about it. It is none of my business. The message just came through when I was using your phone earlier. And, trust me, I wish I hadn't seen it." A small gagging sound came out of my throat as the image resurfaced, and her bright red fingernail stuck between puffy pink lips slithered through my brain.

"I just—we aren't—you shouldn't…" he sputtered through his possible responses but nothing seemed to stick.

"Is that you, Paget? Come on in here, sweetie pie. I have a surprise for you." Ms. Linda Quick's voice saved the day as she caught sight of us and beckoned us over to her desk.

Paget perked up immediately, and a huge grin covered her face as she walked right toward the secretary's desk. I followed suit.

The desk sergeant, Officer Prentiss, who had helped me find my sister on more than one occasion, gave me a small smile as I made my way past. But he motioned to Ty to head his way.

Thankfully escaping yet another awkward moment with Ty, I watched Linda Quick hand my sister a huge box of Q-tips. Paget's face lit up like the Christmas tree that was still up in our den. It was only January after all. And that meant at least another month before we got around to taking it down.

Paget sat down at Linda's desk and opened the box slowl
y
removing each Q-tip one at a time and lining them up on the desk as if they were little white-haired soldiers getting into formation for a battle with ear wax.