Son of a Preacher Man - By Arianna Hart Page 0,44

scholarships. The elementary school was where she’d met Mary Ellen on the first day of kindergarten, and they’d been best friends from that day forward.

Of course, there were good reasons for her negative memories too. Not for love nor money would she go into the hardware store or the church. She had no desire whatsoever to run into Pansy or Orleane Campbell, and she hadn’t shed a tear when she’d heard Matt Woodrow had died in a drunk driving accident. And the way the good people of Dale had treated her mother was shameful.

But was Dale the mouth of hell like she’d built it up in her mind? Probably not.

“It’s awfully quiet back there,” Mary Ellen called from the front seat.

“I think we’re all in a sugar coma. I’ve had more fat and carbs this last week than I’ve had in the past five years. I’m going to have to let out all my suits so I don’t split a seam on the subway.”

“Life without ice cream isn’t worth living.”

“I’m starting to see that.”

“What the—?” Bill stopped the van before pulling into the driveway.

Nadya craned her neck to see what had caused him to slam on the brakes.

All four tires on her car had been slashed, the windshield was shattered and her taillights had been smashed.

“Oh my goodness. Bill, call 9-1-1. Who would do something like this?” Mary Ellen’s hands fluttered around her face.

“Let me out. I need to see what happened.” Nadya struggled to keep her voice even. A lump formed in her throat and tears threatened. She’d had the car less than a month. Sure, it wasn’t new, but it was hers.

Which was why someone had trashed it.

“Don’t touch anything,” Bill directed. “The police will want to check it for evidence.”

“Keep the boys in the van. I don’t want them to see this,” Nadya answered.

“Why don’t you wait until the police get here?”

“I need to see it, Mar.”

Nadya climbed out of the van and made a wide circle around the broken glass. The headlights had been smashed as well, and there were scratches along the driver’s door. The extent of the damage overwhelmed her. Anger welled up, replacing the sadness. Good, anger was a strong emotion. Anger she could deal with.

The wail of a police siren caught her attention seconds before the cruiser screamed around the corner. J.T. slammed on the brakes and bolted out of the car before it rocked to a halt.

“Are you okay? Is anyone hurt? What happened?” He fired questions at her even as his gaze took in the scene.

“I’m pissed off, no one is hurt and someone trashed my car while we were at the park.”

Bill had parked the van farther down the street and walked back to them. “Mary Ellen is staying in the van with the boys. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Don’t let anyone touch the car until Parker gets here with the crime-scene kit. I’m going to check for witnesses.” He turned to Nadya. “Sit over there on the porch until I’m done. I have some questions for you as well.”

Gone was the playful J.T. from the park. He was all business now. Nadya bit back the urge to tell him what he could do with his questions. She was furious and wanted to kick something, not sit on the swing like a good little girl.

Back stiff, she marched over to the steps and sat. Her sandal tapped rapidly in irritation. God, she just wanted to scream.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

For a brief time, she’d actually thought coming to Dale would be okay. How could a couple hours in the park make her forget everything she’d learned growing up here? Just because a couple of women were nice to her didn’t mean she’d suddenly been accepted.

Tears threatened again, but she fought them back. People congregated on the lawn across the street, whispering and pointing. She wasn’t going to give them any more of a show.

A second police car pulled up a bit more sedately than J.T had. A younger man with bright red hair climbed out and pulled a tackle-box-type case out of the trunk. While he snapped pictures of her car, J.T. ambled over to where the neighbors gathered.

Nadya watched dispassionately as J.T. worked the crowd. She saw lots of shaking heads and shrugged shoulders. Every eye followed him as he made his way from person to person. An older woman smoothed her dress across her hips and several younger women flipped their hair or fixed their lipstick