Copper Lake Confidential - By Marilyn Pappano Page 0,49
and Anne only a shout away. If her parents were there, the moment would be perfect.
“How often do you see your parents?” she asked.
If Stephen wondered where the question had come from, it didn’t show. “Mom comes to Copper Lake three or four times a year, and Marnie and I go to Alabama for Mother’s Day, her birthday, Thanksgiving and Christmas.”
“What about your father?”
“We see each other in June—his birthday, Father’s Day, my birthday—then we shoot for a visit in the fall. We rely on the phone more than Mom and I do.” He shifted, a whisper of sound, a creak, a pop, and propped both feet on the coffee table. Basketball player-sized feet, big enough to dwarf hers when she rested them beside his. “You see your parents a lot.”
She laughed. “I’ve lived with them for the better part of the last eighteen months. When my dad gave me away at the wedding, he thought I’d stay away. The joke was on him.” And on her. When Mark had promised to love and honor her, she hadn’t known he would be killing people in his spare time.
A shudder ran through her, and she clutched Clary a little tighter, enough to make the girl stir.
Deliberately she changed the subject. “Do you have to work tomorrow?”
“Yeah, until one.”
“Brent mentioned going to out to dinner to that great little barbecue place near the interstate.” She hesitated, because she had claimed an awful lot of his time off this week, then took a breath and went on. “Would you like to join us?”
“Yeah. But I can’t.” He combed his fingers through his hair then pushed his glasses up before facing her in the dim light. “I have...an obligation tomorrow night.”
Something in her stomach looped and tightened. “That sounds serious.” Another hesitation. “It’s okay if you have a date. I mean, I’ve only known you a few days, and you don’t owe me an explanation. It’s really none of my—”
Reaching over, he laid his fingers across her mouth. “It’s not a date. The police chief is retiring, and they’re having a big party at River’s Edge, and Marnie asked if I’d take one of the female cops she works with. Believe me, I wouldn’t have said yes for anyone but Marnie because this detective scares me spitless. She makes my ex look spineless, and Sloan wasn’t intimated by anything.”
But Macy was. She was vulnerable, unsure of herself. Was that a point for or against her in Stephen’s estimation? Did he enjoy being able to take care of a woman for a change, or was she too needy for his tastes? Would the novelty wear off soon?
“River’s Edge is beautiful.” The antebellum mansion sat in downtown Copper Lake, a gleaming Greek Revival of a house overlooking the square and the river. Though built about the same time as Fair Winds, it was a far more inviting place where people had lived, loved and laughed—where they still did now that it was used for weddings, parties and other events. “You’ll have a good time.”
“Right,” he said morosely. “I have to wear a suit. And a tie.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed you owned long pants or a shirt with buttons, much less a tie.”
That made him grin. “I prefer an uncomplicated wardrobe.”
“I’ve noticed.” She thought of the dozen custom-tailored suits in Mark’s closet, the tuxes, the dress shirts hung in rows that cost enough per shirt to feed a family of four for a week. And his hand-painted silk ties, the Italian leather shoes... “‘Uncomplicated’ is nice.”
Nice. It was a greatly underrated word. She could be deliriously happy with nice for the rest of her life.
“And maybe you could tuck a muzzle into your pocket for Detective Scary Pants,” she added.
“Not a bad idea.” Slowly he straightened. “I’ll be brave. I’ve treated a lot of angry animals over the years. I’ve had my hand—hell, my whole arm—in places those animals didn’t want it, and I’ve survived. Maybe I can survive Kiki Isaacs.”
The name was familiar to Macy. Naturally, the Howards hadn’t socialized with mere police officers, but she’d read the newspaper regularly, and she’d seen the woman’s name and photograph a few times. Her vague recollection was curly hair and round face. No horns, no fangs, no six-inch claws.
“If I do survive and it’s not too late, can I stop by when it’s over?”
Warmth curled through her and she smiled. “I’d like that.”
He stood, causing Scooter to slowly rise, too, then gestured. “Do you need help getting her