had lost his wife in a car accident five years ago. He’d almost died himself. A jagged, fearsome scar ran along his hair-line from the top of his head to his neck. Now he was raising two teenage daughters on his own and seeing to a small town as its police chief. He liked the image of Cold Spring as a quiet, safe lakeside village.
He drank some of his beer, sighing into the glass. “Penelope makes too many honest mistakes, Harriet. One day they’re going to catch up with her. I don’t care how optimistic and brazen she is.”
He wasn’t the only one in town who shared that opinion. But Harriet didn’t want to let go of her bubbly mood. “You’re tired. Drink your beer and relax.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re not going to tell me why you’re about ready to chortle?”
She could feel her cheeks warming. For once, she wasn’t turning red simply from embarrassment or standing over a hot stove. But she said coyly, “It’s been an interesting day, that’s why.”
“You’ve been making money off those reporters.” Andy came around with his beer and sat on the stool next to her, as he did most nights. He would walk from his house in the village, taking a half hour from his roles as chief of police and widower father of two. “Nothing you like better than a positive cash flow, except you won’t admit it. You sit there pretending to be the lady of the manor when you’ve got that calculator mind of yours working up figures.”
“You think you know me so well.”
“Nah, Harriet.” He grinned at her, looking less tired. “I don’t know you at all.”
“Oh, Andy.”
He swallowed more beer, his steady presence helping to calm her happy jitteriness and anchor her in reality. “That nut cousin of yours has asked Rebecca and Jane to help with her sap collecting tomorrow after school. I hope things have settled down enough. I don’t want them involved in this plane wreck business.”
Harriet smiled reassuringly. “Penelope corrected her mistake as soon as she could. You can trust her with your daughters, Andy. You know that.”
“Lyman grounded her today. You heard?”
“Of course.”
“It’s long overdue, if you ask me. The thought of that woman in the skies above this town scares me to death.”
“Andy, she’s a fine pilot. You think of her as the twelve-year-old you pulled out of the lake.”
He grunted, a gruff man who was all bluster. “It’s not something I’ll ever forget. Ungrateful little snot. She was a skinny hothead, kept yelling and kicking because she could have rescued herself. She was half a second from freezing to death, her skin was blue, her teeth were chattering, but it didn’t affect that mouth of hers.”
Harriet smiled. “I remember. That’s what kept her alive, you know. That sheer willpower of hers.”
“It’s also what got her into trouble in the first place. She acts, then thinks.” He sighed heavily, finished his beer. “You know, I was just a kid myself when that plane went down. I helped my father comb the woods for it. I wanted to be a hero. We looked everywhere. The Sinclair family wouldn’t rest until we’d covered every square inch of those hills. If Colt’s Piper Cub was up there, we’d have found it.”
“Maybe not,” Harriet said. “If it was tucked on a hillside amidst rocks—”
“That’s another thing.” He leveled his cop’s gaze on her. “Who’d put a dump on a steep, rocky hillside? Doesn’t make sense.”
Harriet felt her heartbeat flutter. “Andy…”
“If she’s lying, I don’t want to know about it. Honest to God, Harriet. My opinion, Penelope didn’t find anything in the woods on Sunday. She just can’t admit she was seeing things entirely.” He eased off the stool. He looked tired again, as if the pressures of life were too much for him. Then a spark came into his eyes, a touch of the wry humor Harriet had seen in him for as long as she could remember. “Did I hear a Sinclair was in town?”
She
He drank some of his beer, sighing into the glass. “Penelope makes too many honest mistakes, Harriet. One day they’re going to catch up with her. I don’t care how optimistic and brazen she is.”
He wasn’t the only one in town who shared that opinion. But Harriet didn’t want to let go of her bubbly mood. “You’re tired. Drink your beer and relax.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re not going to tell me why you’re about ready to chortle?”
She could feel her cheeks warming. For once, she wasn’t turning red simply from embarrassment or standing over a hot stove. But she said coyly, “It’s been an interesting day, that’s why.”
“You’ve been making money off those reporters.” Andy came around with his beer and sat on the stool next to her, as he did most nights. He would walk from his house in the village, taking a half hour from his roles as chief of police and widower father of two. “Nothing you like better than a positive cash flow, except you won’t admit it. You sit there pretending to be the lady of the manor when you’ve got that calculator mind of yours working up figures.”
“You think you know me so well.”
“Nah, Harriet.” He grinned at her, looking less tired. “I don’t know you at all.”
“Oh, Andy.”
He swallowed more beer, his steady presence helping to calm her happy jitteriness and anchor her in reality. “That nut cousin of yours has asked Rebecca and Jane to help with her sap collecting tomorrow after school. I hope things have settled down enough. I don’t want them involved in this plane wreck business.”
Harriet smiled reassuringly. “Penelope corrected her mistake as soon as she could. You can trust her with your daughters, Andy. You know that.”
“Lyman grounded her today. You heard?”
“Of course.”
“It’s long overdue, if you ask me. The thought of that woman in the skies above this town scares me to death.”
“Andy, she’s a fine pilot. You think of her as the twelve-year-old you pulled out of the lake.”
He grunted, a gruff man who was all bluster. “It’s not something I’ll ever forget. Ungrateful little snot. She was a skinny hothead, kept yelling and kicking because she could have rescued herself. She was half a second from freezing to death, her skin was blue, her teeth were chattering, but it didn’t affect that mouth of hers.”
Harriet smiled. “I remember. That’s what kept her alive, you know. That sheer willpower of hers.”
“It’s also what got her into trouble in the first place. She acts, then thinks.” He sighed heavily, finished his beer. “You know, I was just a kid myself when that plane went down. I helped my father comb the woods for it. I wanted to be a hero. We looked everywhere. The Sinclair family wouldn’t rest until we’d covered every square inch of those hills. If Colt’s Piper Cub was up there, we’d have found it.”
“Maybe not,” Harriet said. “If it was tucked on a hillside amidst rocks—”
“That’s another thing.” He leveled his cop’s gaze on her. “Who’d put a dump on a steep, rocky hillside? Doesn’t make sense.”
Harriet felt her heartbeat flutter. “Andy…”
“If she’s lying, I don’t want to know about it. Honest to God, Harriet. My opinion, Penelope didn’t find anything in the woods on Sunday. She just can’t admit she was seeing things entirely.” He eased off the stool. He looked tired again, as if the pressures of life were too much for him. Then a spark came into his eyes, a touch of the wry humor Harriet had seen in him for as long as she could remember. “Did I hear a Sinclair was in town?”
She
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