Chirp(30)

Tom flipped through his notes. “According to her stepmother, the girl isn’t capable of running the business.”

Sherman’s face reddened. “That’s bullshit. She’s intelligent, detailed oriented, and smart enough to listen and take advice from those with more experience. Grant would have never entrusted the company to a twenty-one-year-old unless he knew she was competent. I’ll remain on the board and be her closest advisor. Just like I was to her father.”

“Sounds like you might know her whereabouts. Do you?”

Sherman laughed. “Marla thinks the same thing, and believe me, she’s offered plenty to find out, but I can honestly say I have no idea.”

When Mr. Sherman rose, Tom got the message. Dismissed again for the second time today. Rich people. Damn.

As he drove to Helga Scudder’s house, he considered what he’d do when he found the girl. It was hard to fight the consensus nobody wanted Marla to succeed. He’d spent twenty-five years fighting bad guys; now it seemed he’d joined forces with the wrong side.

He wheeled into Helga’s drive and found her stooped over, weeding flower beds. As he strode across the lawn, she looked up, shaded her eyes, and grinned. “Well, hello, you. More questions to clear up?”

“Just three. Do you know the whereabouts of the Montgomery girl?”

Helga removed her gloves and slapped them against her leg to dust the dirt away. “No.”

“Would you tell me if you did?”

She thought a moment before she answered, then smiled once more. “Yes. But I wouldn’t tell you where.”

Damn. Perfect answer. “Would you have dinner with me?”





Blaze


For two days nobody died in Bluebird, and Blaze didn’t work. But all the building activity was too much to deal with, so each morning after breakfast, she packed food and art supplies, put Muttly on a leash, and set out for the tree house.

After blocking the doorway with her cooler to keep the puppy safe, she’d folded a towel and placed it in the corner, where he’d slept for the last hour. She’d spent the morning sketching the dog and Rance. Mostly Rance. She couldn’t get the image of his water-splashed body out of her head. Later, at the park, the way sunbeams had sifted through the trees cast his strong features in a perfect combination of shadow and light. As an artist she’d wanted to capture the memory before it faded. She’d never used male models or drawn nudes, but something about him excited her. Well, maybe excited wasn’t the right word.

When she was younger and Helga had helped get her ready for bath time, Helga used to say, “Wash up as far as possible, wash down as far as possible, then wash possible.” When Rance came from the shower, Blaze’s stomach had tightened when she’d thought about his possible.

Before she finished the thought, his voice echoed through the pines. He was headed her way. She closed the sketch pad and placed it on the floor.

“Hey! Are you up there?”

She leaned out the opening. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m coming up,” he said.

She scooted back to let him inside.

Muttly came to him. “Hey, boy.” The pup rolled over, and Rance scratched his belly, then looked at Blaze. “I can’t believe this place is still in such good shape. When you mentioned it yesterday, I wanted to see it.”

He inched deeper inside. “My brothers and I built it. Some of my best memories come from my time here.”

If she didn’t know him, the scruffy beard and ponytail would be a real turnoff—scary, even. But the look matched his personality. Sexy. Dangerous. Hot. She fought the urge to touch him. To run her hand along his strong jaw. Feel the whiskers beneath her fingertips. She gave herself a mental slap. What was wrong with her? “I like coming here,” she said.

He grabbed the towel from the corner, reclined, and propped it under his head. “What do you do up here?”

There was the reason for her desire. She’d spent too much time sketching him. “Draw.”

He rolled to his elbow and rested head in hand. “In this?” He picked up the sketch pad, but she grabbed it.

“Those are personal.”

“Oh—okay. Sorry.” He leaned back again, and the dog crawled onto his chest.

“Hey, I need to talk to you about something. I’m inviting my brothers to the Bluebird Festival. Can you handle that?”

“Where will they sleep?”

“They can bunk in my room, and I’ll stay in Dessie’s. That way we won’t disturb you.”

Blaze shoved the cooler back against the opening and reclined next to Rance. She liked being close to him. “Okay.”

“Good deal.” He yawned. “I may take a little nap.”

“You should, because you’re a sedulous man.”

“Word of the day?”

“Yeah.”

He laughed, then whispered, “Let me guess. It means sexy.”

“No. Hardworking. But you are sexy.”





14


Hanna


Scents of coconut and vanilla hung in the air as Hanna sealed the last box of soap, slid it to Tiffany for a shipping label, then puffed a strand of hair from her eyes. “My online presence is paying off.” For the past few weeks, she’d invested time on Facebook, following different stores and posting photos of her products. She nodded toward the packages. “Of the six companies that visited my site, those two placed orders.”