Jennifer Snow – Love, Lies and Mistletoe (страница 7)

“Because you keep messing with them,” she said.

“How?”

“The fine for the parking out back.”

“It’s a fire lane,” he argued.

“And then the expired liquor license thing.”

“They need a valid license.” Give me a break. They were angry at him for holding them responsible for breaking the law? Besides, those warnings had come from Sheriff Bishop—Jacob had just been the messenger.

“All I’m saying is, I know you’re probably bored out of your mind—”

Understatement.

“—with the lack of real crimes around here, but maybe don’t focus so heavily on the place that feeds you,” she said with a wink. “Now—eggs Benedict?”

“Yes, preferably without spit,” he mumbled.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she said as Sheriff Bishop joined them. “How’s my favorite sheriff today?”

Subtle.

Jacob took a sip of his coffee. Lukewarm.

“I’m great, April. Just coffee, please,” Sheriff Bishop said.

“You got it. I’ll go grab a fresh pot.”

Jacob sighed.

“Eating alone?” the older man asked.

“Have a seat, please,” he said, staring out the window. Across the street, he saw Ginger chipping away at the block of ice outside her front door. Unbelievable.

“How’s it going?” Sheriff Bishop asked.

“Fantastic,” Jacob grumbled.

“It’ll get easier. Once they get to know you a bit, they’ll warm up.”

He didn’t want them to warm up; he wanted to get back to his life in the city. Besides, how was anyone supposed to get to know him when he couldn’t be honest about who he was and why he was there? And while everyone thought he was a major annoyance? So for that much, he couldn’t blame them. “Well, having to issue all of these warnings aren’t helping.”

The man smiled. “Ah, they’ll get over it. We’ve been down a sheriff since the last guy retired, and I’ve been too soft on them. Give them time.”

He didn’t want to give them time. He wanted to leave Brookhollow. “Have you heard anything?” Jacob asked quietly. He’d asked the same question every day for four months. The answer was never promising.

April returned with fresh coffee and poured a cup for Sheriff Bishop and graciously topped his up with the hot liquid, checking to make sure Tina wasn’t watching.

“Thanks.”

When she left, Sheriff Bishop shook his head. “Nothing.”

Jacob sighed. He knew the NYPD had guys on the case, and that they were doing everything they could to bring Lorenzo in, so Jacob could testify against him and then return to his life, but he also knew the department was being careful. They weren’t about to get aggressive, risking the lives of several other officers, just to bring him back. That was assuming he even had a job to go back to. Blacking out and compromising his position had raised flags about Jacob’s ability to do his job effectively.

Heck, even he was questioning his ability.

Which was exactly why he was here. He had an informant working on the docks at the Port of Newark Terminal, and Jacob was expecting the guy to give him a “wrong number” call when he knew Lorenzo would be there. And that would be Jacob’s cue to move in. Disobeying orders and getting involved with a case that he’d been removed from was wrong, but it was his only opportunity to prove that he could still be a valuable member of the force.

And if it was just his life to consider, he might be able to show more patience and resolve, waiting for either the department to catch Lorenzo or the call from Emilio in Newark.

“Anything from Amber or Kyle?” he asked.

“There may be something in your locker at the station,” Sheriff Bishop said quietly.

Jacob almost smiled at that. “Amber?” he asked, hopefully.

Sheriff Bishop shook his head.

Of course not. His sister was still far too angry at him for making her uproot her entire life and move into the federal witness protection four months ago. But he’d had no choice. Jacob couldn’t protect them anymore, and when Kyle had been approached outside of school by a stranger with a note for his uncle, meant as a warning, their only choice had been the program. Amber had been furious that Jacob expected her to leave her art gallery and take Kyle out of school to move to the middle of nowhere. They’d all had a life in the city—one that had changed abruptly.

Because of him.

He didn’t even know where they were, for their safety. Letters back and forth were the only form of communication allowed, and they were filtered through the US Marshals and Sheriff Bishop, who also read the correspondence.

April brought over his breakfast, and he shot a look behind the counter at Tina. “Is it safe?” he asked April.

She nodded.

He picked up his fork and dove in. At that point, he wasn’t even sure he cared if they’d done anything to it. He was starving, and he knew he’d be helping Ginger Norris with her sidewalk in a few minutes. He needed his blood sugars up for the job.

CHAPTER THREE

JACOB ENTERED THE locker room at the station a few hours later. All afternoon he’d been dying to read the letter from his nephew, but a few emergencies had kept him busy. Pearl Howard, the woman who owned the flower shop on Main Street, had reported a lost cat, and it had taken nearly an hour to locate the tabby—locked accidentally in her coat closet when she’d come home from the supermarket. Unbelievable. In the city, he’d never have answered a missing cat call.

What constituted an emergency in Brookhollow was so different from in New York, and by now Jacob should have learned not to answer the more ridiculous calls. They were making him crazy. Unfortunately, he had to keep up the act.

“Hey, Jake,” Ethan Bishop, Sheriff Bishop’s son and head of the fire department, said as he entered the shared locker room, removing his jacket.

“Hi.” Jacob sat on the bench and removed his boots.

“I heard Mrs. Howard found her cat,” he said, hanging his gear on the hook and reaching for his jeans.

“She sure did.”

Ethan laughed. “I swear she locks him away on purpose to have us stop by for company.”

Pearl had looked slightly disappointed to see Jacob pull up in the squad car instead of the firemen. “I wouldn’t doubt it.” She had invited him to stay for tea and cookies afterward, which he’d refused, so instead she’d asked him to clear her walkway, which he’d done.

“Hey, man—do you ever wish there were real emergency calls around here? A burning shed, at least?” He couldn’t understand how guys like Ethan—young, fit, ambitious and hardworking—could be satisfied with the snail’s pace of life in Brookhollow.

But Ethan shook his head. “Nope. The last time there was a real fire here, it was in my wife’s garage.”

“Oh, man. I’m sorry.”

“Nah, it worked out for the best. She wasn’t there, and the garage got rebuilt to code, which I’d been begging her to do for years. But it was still scary.”

“I guess in a small town, a real emergency could mean your own family or friends are involved.” Heck, even in New York, his job had affected the well-being of his family.

“Yeah, that’s why we’re totally fine being bored out of our minds,” Ethan said, grabbing his winter coat from the locker. “Hey, I know some of the guys asked you before, but...here,” he said, taking a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handing it to him.

Jacob opened it. The bowling league again.

“We need a couple extras for the tournament in a few weeks. If you know how to roll a straight ball even just by fluke, you’re in, if you’re interested,” he said.

“Thanks. I’ll...uh...think about it.”

“Okay. See ya around,” Ethan said as he left.

Alone, Jacob balled the paper and tossed it into the trash can in the corner. Bowling was something he and Kyle used to enjoy together. They’d even joined a family league before Jacob had taken the promotion to undercover agent. The disappointment on Kyle’s face when he’d told him their weekly bowling nights would be suspended for a while had torn a hole through him, and participating in the sport now, without his nephew, would make him feel like crap.

Reaching into the back of the locker, he retrieved the already opened letter from Kyle. The return address had been cut from the corner of the envelope, and for the millionth time, Jacob wondered where they’d been sent. He hoped it was somewhere sunny and warm and fun, at least. He wished he was somewhere warm, sunny and fun. Hiding out on a beach in California surrounded by beautiful women and unlimited cocktails would be easier to swallow. An image of Heather behind the pool hall bar flashed in his mind. Okay, two out of three, but still no beach. And besides, she’d told him earlier she was applying for a job in New York. Pretty soon, the only thing making his time there bearable would be gone.

Unfolding the letter, he read.

Dear Uncle Jacob,

How are you? We are fine. Mom says hello, even though she said she is still mad at you. I’m not. The school here is better than the one in New York, they even have snowboarding lessons.