Her Hometown Detective Page 4

“What are you talking about?” Caroline said, noticeably confused. “What crush? Faith, who did you see today? Not...” Her cousin sat upright, a wide smile spreading in realization. “Did you see John McTully?”

  “I don’t... What?” Faith scrambled to piece together how Trig knew about their encounter.

  “Oh, she saw him all right,” Trig continued. “I heard it over the radio.”

  “You and that stupid police scanner,” Caroline said. “Why do you listen to that thing? You’re not even a cop.”

  “I like to know what’s going on in my town. Plus, it’s interesting. This morning, I was on my way out when I heard the call about The Cutest Little Tea Shop—”

  “That came over the police scanner?” Faith said. “It was a few smashed flowers and a dented mailbox.”

  “Remember where you are now, cousin.” Caroline laughed and tossed her a cold soda. “That’s considered big news around here.”

  “I forgot. And, Trig, why is this any of your business?”

  “Can’t my cousin’s new motorcycle shop be my business? I wanted to make sure your place was okay. I swung by in time to see you and Tully heading inside. Is he as dreamy as you thought he was back in high school?”

  Faith considered chucking her soda can at Trig’s face.

  “Trig Waterson, I swear to all the heavens and the earth—”

  He laughed. “Oh, simmer down. I’m only joking with you. It’s been a long time—”

  “A long time.”

  “I’m sure you don’t have feelings for him anymore. Right?”

  “I absolutely don’t.”

  “Of course not.”

  “My days of fawning over John McTully—”

  “Secretly fawning,” Caroline noted. “He didn’t know you existed back then.”

  “Thanks for the reminder.” Faith scowled, considering how true it was. “Back then no one knew I existed...before you know what.”

  Her cousins nodded solemnly, as Faith considered life back then. John McTully was one of the very few people she’d hoped to see on her return. John had always been so kind to everyone, understandably making him somewhat of a hometown darling. The teachers adored him, the coaches favored him and nearly every girl in school had been half in love with him. She’d been in good company for crushing on him.

  What made John McTully even more endearing was the fact that he’d graduated and left for college before the news of her father hit. She was certain he knew all the nitty-gritty details now, but at the time, she was glad she’d never had to face him when the details were fresh. Since she didn’t have a memory of him looking down his nose at her because of her father’s crimes, he seemed even more endearing today.

  “Earth to Faith.” Faith snapped to attention and Caroline dissolved into giggles. Caroline handed her a plate with a burger. “I said what did the two of you talk about in your motorcycle shop?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing? Were you too busy staring deep into his eyes—”

  “Oh, you two are the worst!” Faith said. “It’s a wonder I ever decided to move back here.”

  Trig shrugged. “We’re family. This is what family does.”

  Faith drew a deep breath. “Family, huh?” She sighed. “It’s been so long I forgot what one looks like.”

  “You’re the one who left,” Trig said. He glanced up as if to see how his comment was received. It was true, unfortunately, and ever since she had, she’d been daydreaming of returning.

  “Can you blame me?”

  “Nope. I’d have done the same. We’re glad you’re back though.”

  “Tully’s single, you know,” Caroline said. Faith ran a fingertip around the edge of her soda can, wondering how on earth that was possible. He had been the greatest catch when they had been teenagers, and from what she’d seen since moving home, he had gotten better-looking with age.

  If she had been out of his league in high school, having a family scandal and a quickie divorce on her record certainly didn’t sweeten things.

  Faith asked, “If you’re keeping track of his relationship status, why don’t you make a move?”

  “I’m not his type.”

  “What? Beautiful, kind and successful?”

  Caroline twisted her long red hair into a messy knot on top of her head. She hoped her cousin knew how terrific she was.

  “He keeps to himself mostly,” she said, looking at Trig. “I can’t think of the last time he dated anyone for more than a few weeks. Can you?”

  Trig shook his head. “There have been a few ladies who have swung and missed. Most recently I saw him out with Emily Peaches.”

  “He dated Emily?” Faith asked, swallowing her disappointment. If Emily Peaches was his type, she didn’t stand a chance. Emily had been sweeter than a bowl of strawberry shortcake and in high school had been voted the person most likely to brighten up your day.

  Trig continued, “He’s dated a bit, but no one has come close to taking him off the market. He and his sister, Samantha—”

  “She’s a wonder,” Caroline said. “I follow her online to see what kind of dangerous adventure she’s up to next.”

  Faith recalled how friendly Samantha had been at the gas station. Samantha also hadn’t recognized her, although recognition required knowing the person well enough in the first place. Samantha had run in a different circle in high school.

  “It’s only a matter of time before everyone eventually figures out who I am.”

  “And once they do...what?” Trig said, settling into a chair beside her. “Do you think they’re going to hold you accountable for your dad? You were a kid back then, Faith. What would they have expected you to do?”

  It wasn’t what they expected that had her on edge. It was how they sneered behind her back that made her cringe. The last few years had toughened her up, sure, but was she ready to be remembered again as Ray Talbert’s daughter?

  “I wish I’d had a brother or sister to help me shoulder this,” she said. “I wouldn’t mind spreading out the judgment a little.” Trig squeezed her shoulder. He and Caroline had run into some trouble after Ray had been arrested, but they were a few more degrees removed from it all than she was.

  “Can you settle for a couple of well-meaning cousins instead?” he asked.

  “I’d be glad to if you’d cut out your teasing, Trig.”

  Caroline chuckled. “Count yourself lucky, Faith. If he had been your brother, he’d have crashed your first encounter with Tully at the shop, instead of just driving by.”

  Faith was about to correct her. About to tell them about the gas station and how she’d yelled at John McTully before she’d realized the man hidden behind dark sunglasses was the same man who’d given her the only thing to look forward to sophomore year.

  She settled into her chair, resigned to keeping that little incident to herself like a tiny treasure she’d found washed up on the shore. As with every desire of her heart, she’d keep it hidden where no one else could find it or taint it, because in her experience, people always managed to do that.

  * * *

  TULLY HAD HEADED home for the day when Charlie texted him with a dinner invitation. Charlie’s sister, Mara, was a stickler about having family dinner on nights she didn’t have to work until closing at Little Lakeside Sports Shop, the store she owned with her husband, Peter. Tully appreciated his honorary place in Charlie’s family and rarely turned down an invitation, no matter how last minute it was offered.

  He’d arrived at Mara and Peter’s house and had finished fixing a plate of food when Paige, Charlie’s wife, arrived. Charlie and Paige had married the year before after a very short engagement, and Tully thought Paige had been an excellent addition to the family.

  She smacked a kiss on everyone’s cheek before embracing her husband. “What was this I heard about Dolores’s s
hop getting vandalized?”

  Tully had spent the day thinking a lot about Dolores Mitchell’s shop, but not because he was worried about a little vandalism. The woman who had moved into the shop beside Dolores had hijacked his thoughts ever since she’d spouted off to him at the gas station the day before.

  “Nothing to get worked up over,” Tully said. Lucy, Mara and Peter’s preteen daughter, scooted onto a chair and frowned up at him.

  “I want to know what happened. Details, Tully. Did someone break in?”

  “Nah. It was most likely some kids running around at night, bored in the summer heat.”

  “Do you remember the trouble we used to get in as kids?” Charlie asked. “Everything in this town used to close by nine o’clock at night. There was nothing for us to do except night swim or tear it up in the woods or—” Mara shot her brother a scowl, motioning toward twelve-year-old Lucy.

  “Not everyone needs to hear about your shenanigans.”

  “Or what, Uncle Charlie?” Lucy said, bypassing her mother. Charlie glanced at Tully for help.

  “Or staying up all night,” Tully filled in, taking a seat. “I heard you had a slumber party last weekend and didn’t get to sleep until...”

  “Until seven in the morning,” Mara said. “I had the headache and four cups of coffee that morning to show for it. Giggling girls kept me awake most of the night.”

  Lucy smiled. “It was so fun, Mom. We saw the sunrise.”

  “What do you and your girlfriends talk about all night?” Tully couldn’t imagine having enough to say to another person that would warrant missing out on precious sleep or precious silence.

  “Tully has a daily word limit he doesn’t like to exceed,” Charlie said. “Been like that since forever.”

  “Why change a good thing?” He smiled. Paige finished fixing a plate and settled in across from him.

  “I heard Samantha made it home in one piece.”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. She’ll be here for the Fourth.”

  Tully offered a hesitant nod. His sister might agree to stay in town for a few days or a few weeks even, but once a new idea popped into her head, holding her back was like trying to rein in a hurricane. They’d have plans one day, and she’d be off jet-setting to Kilimanjaro the next.

  “The Fourth at least. We’ll see what the next few weeks hold after that. You can never say for sure with Sam.”

  “Speaking of new arrivals,” Charlie spoke up. Tully immediately recognized Charlie’s playful tone and set a death stare on him. “What did you learn about that new woman? Faith, was it?”

  “What new woman?” Mara asked, turning her attention to her husband, Peter. “Babe, did you know there’s a new woman in town?”

  Peter stopped midbite, contemplating. “Is she the one who’s renting that empty store lot?”

  Tully settled into his most professional tone. “She’s turning it into a motorcycle shop—detailing, repairs. She hopes to open by the Fourth.”

  “Wow,” Mara said. “I didn’t hear anything about someone moving in that quickly.”

  “I did,” Paige said. “I stopped into The Sandwich Board today—”

  “CeCe Takes,” Tully said, biting back a groan. He wasn’t surprised. There was a telephone, a telegraph and a teleCeCe when it came to news in this town. He usually worked CeCe’s gossip to his advantage as much as he could. There was no use beating the pavement to get leads when CeCe already had a pulse on every small happening in town. She was always so eager to keep him informed too.

  “Do you know anything about this new shop owner, Tully?” Mara asked, leaning to get a closer view. “Is she nice? Attractive?”

  Tully focused intently on his food and shrugged.

  “No?” Charlie’s face spread into a lopsided grin. “She’s nice enough. She offered to help Dolores fix her broken mailbox.”

  Tully quieted his chewing, waiting to hear what else his friend thought of the new woman.

  “Is that it?” Mara prompted. “What does she look like, Charlie? I want to say hello if I pass her on the street.”

  “Black hair—”

  “Dark brown,” Tully said, jabbing at his plate. Charlie cleared his throat.

  “Dark brown hair. Blue eyes—”

  “Gray.”

  Charlie leaned an elbow on the table. “Maybe you should take it from here, buddy.”

  Tully leaned back in his chair. “There’s nothing to tell. She hopes to get her repair shop off the ground and seems pretty intent on keeping to herself. I don’t blame her if the first person she met in town was CeCe Takes. Fielding her questions is like dodging a firing squad.”

  “I’ll introduce myself tomorrow,” Mara said. “Maybe we can do some cross-advertising if she’s interested. Does she have a name?”

  Tully let the name roll softly off his lips. He liked the alliteration. He liked how the sweet first name was in stark contrast to the tough exterior of a woman he’d encountered twice. “Faith Fitzpatrick,” he said. “She needs a soft approach.”

  “Why do you say that?” Mara asked.

  “Trust me.”

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING Tully pulled up in front of Grandma’s Basement, Roseley’s favorite antiques shop, as Betty Jenkins, the owner, waved from the front window. Miss Jenkins always moved about her shop with a studied charm. Tully had a lifetime of memories visiting her, the 1950s-style dresses she wore always swishing as she glided to greet him.

  Today, however, Betty’s shoulders slumped, her bright pink lips drawn in a thin line.

  “Tully, sweetheart,” she said, drawing him in for a hug. He wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders, the full volume of her dress fabric doing little to disguise her frail frame. “I only arrived a little while ago. Isn’t it a shame?”

  Tully glanced around at the spray paint and broken glass. The damage was more considerable than what had been done to The Cutest Little Teashop. If the same person was responsible for both crimes, he or she was getting bolder. Someone had shattered all the glass in the front door. In the same shiny black paint as before, they’d spray-painted sporadic paint swipes along the exterior brick wall. There were no messages, only random blotches.

  Tully took a few pictures with his cell phone and texted them to Officer Allison White at the station. Before moving back to Roseley, he’d seen his fair share of gang tags. The black-paint swipes looked sporadic, not signifying a gang was operating in Roseley. Still, it didn’t hurt to have Officer White do a little research for him.

  “What time did you get here this morning?” he asked, squatting to examine the broken glass. Whatever had been used to break the door had been taken away with the assailant.

  “Dolores called me at about six thirty, after she called you. She’s a sweetheart, isn’t she? Everyone is always looking out for each other on this street.”

  “Don’t you normally rise early?”

  “I pop awake at five thirty.” She sighed, staring off into a distance that expanded farther than the door frame. “Sandy has been dead for ten years, but I still startle awake at five thirty to get her medicine ready.”

  Miss Jenkins had spent her adult life taking care of her sister, who had suffered with a chronic illness before her passing.

  “Old habits die hard,” he said.

  “Sadly, they sure do.”

  Tully glanced up at the aging profile of the woman he’d come to adore over the years. Not every little boy found a surrogate mother figure when he most needed one, but after Tully had healed his physical scars of losing his mom, Miss Jenkins had been there to dry his eyes as he attempted to heal the emotional ones. His friends had always loved coming to her antiques store for the free candy samples, but he’d had other reasons.

  “Do you know of anyone who is angry or annoyed with you? A disgruntled custom
er, perhaps?”

  Miss Jenkins tipped her head thoughtfully. “I can’t think of an angry soul going back twenty years, Tully.”

  “This looks like the stuff of amateurs. Are any kids giving you trouble?”

  “I get the typical stuff from time to time.” Tully raised his eyebrows. “Oh, it’s nothing to worry about. You know how little kids are.”

  “Little?”

  She smiled. “Well, I occasionally get some teenagers in here with sticky fingers but offering them a peppermint stick when they first come in seems to change their minds. My granddad always used to say that if you talk to the kids when they’re little, they won’t egg your house when they’re teenagers. He was right about that. In fact...” She strode to the front counter and returned with a red-and-white-striped peppermint stick. “I always keep your favorite in stock.” Tully accepted the candy in the same way he always had as a kid, with a warm smile. “How’s detective work treating you?”

  “Just fine.”

  “That’s you,” she said, her eyes crinkling in a knowing way. “Always fine. Whenever you visited as a boy you always said you were fine.”

  “I always was,” Tully said. She watched him for several beats, and he knew he wasn’t fooling her now, like he hadn’t fooled her when he was a kid. “How’s your dad?” she finally asked. Tully shifted on his feet.

  “Holding steady.” Things rarely changed much for his dad, but the mention of him reminded Tully that he needed to make a trip out to visit him sooner than later. Why did later always seem so much more appealing?

  “Have you met the new store owner at the end of the street?” Tully opted for a topic that didn’t involve his father or the past. Miss Jenkins’s mouth pursed in confusion.

  “No, I haven’t. All I know about her is what Dolores relayed. What’s your impression?”

  “She’s opening a motorcycle shop—”

  “I heard. I bid recently on a Triumph Speed Twin. I thought it would look lovely at the front of the store, but the price rose too steeply for my budget. I’ll have to mosey down and introduce myself.”

  “Her first encounter was with...” Tully cleared his throat. Miss Jenkins’s face relaxed in understanding.