Chasing Perfect (Fool's Gold #1)(83)

She stood and crossed to her window, where she saw the police cars pull up. In a matter of a minute or two, Robert would be in custody.

Still pissed, she went down the hall and entered Robert’s office. He glanced up and smiled.

“Hello, Charity. How’s it going?”

“Not well for you. Did you really steal that money?”

His expression twisted a little. There was a second of confusion, followed by surprise, then an annoyingly smug look.

“What a question. I’m insulted.”

“Are you? I don’t think so.” She studied him, looking for the truth. “How? No, wait. That doesn’t matter. Why? That’s the more important question. Why would you take money from the town? Did you really think we were all so stupid that you wouldn’t get caught?”

“I didn’t do anything,” he told her. “But if I did, no one would find out.”

“Is that what you think? That you’re smarter than all of us?” She leaned against the doorframe. “Sorry, Robert. It turns out Bernie’s even smarter than you.”

The smugness faded. “What are you talking about?”

“She’s already called the chief. Apparently she found your secret accounts and has everything she needs to put you away for a long time.”

He sprang to his feet and started for the door. She stepped out of the way and watched him fly toward the stairs. Seconds later he tripped on Bernie’s outstretched foot and went tumbling onto the marble floor. He lay sprawled there on his belly. Sheriff Burns climbed the stairs and calmly put her foot on the small of his back.

“I was halfway home when I got this call,” the sheriff told him, not sounding happy. “I don’t like it when anyone messes with my plans.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“I FEEL SO USED,” Marsha said the next morning as she and Charity sat in the mayor’s office. “I liked Robert. I believed in him.”

“I dated him,” Charity said, shaking her head. “I felt bad that I didn’t like him more. How did this happen?”

“We were too trusting,” Marsha told her. “He had such excellent recommendations.”

“Is this where we talk about what a nice, quiet man he was?”

News had spread quickly. Not only had Robert stolen the town’s money, he’d been using a false name. Apparently the circumstances under which his elderly mother had died were suspicious and he was sitting in the city jail, waiting to be extradited back to Oregon for a possible murder charge.

“I have inherited my mother’s bad taste in men,” Charity said glumly. “Here’s one more example.”

“Robert doesn’t count. You barely went out with him.”

“I had no sense there was anything wrong with him. That should be a few points against me.”

“Half a point,” Marsha told her. “How are you feeing?”

“Fine. No obvious symptoms yet. No weird cravings or morning sickness.”

“Have you talked to Josh recently?”

“Since the original announcement? He came by and asked me what I want from him. When I didn’t have an answer, he said we would work it out. It was a thrilling moment for me.”

“You’re hurt.”

“Some. And angry.”

“Because he couldn’t read your mind?”

Partly, but Charity wasn’t going to admit that. “Why do I have to do the asking? Shouldn’t he be offering? This is as much his child as mine.”

“So you want him to do the right thing. Are you waiting for him to propose?”

“No.” She tried to put a little force behind the word. “I want him to…” She wanted so much—it was difficult to pick just one direction. “I want him to want to be with me and the baby. I’m not interested in doing anything because he thinks he has to.”

“Does he know you want to be with him?”

Charity didn’t want to answer that either.

“You have a hard time asking for what you want,” Marsha said. “Is it because your mother was never there for you?”

“Probably. I don’t trust easily.”

“What has Josh done to make you not trust him?”

“Nothing,” she admitted reluctantly. “But look at his past. He wants to get back into racing. He wants everything that goes with it.”

“Or maybe he just wants to know he hasn’t failed.”

An interesting point, Charity admitted grudgingly. But before she could figure out what to say, Sheryl stuck her head in the door.

“Charity, I’m sorry to bother you, but it’s Dr. Daniels from the hospital committee. He says it’s important.”

“Thanks.” Charity rose.

“You can take it here,” Marsha told her. “I’ll go get some coffee.”

“Thanks.” Charity waited until she was alone in the mayor’s office, then picked up the phone. “Hello, Dr. Daniels.”

“Ms. Jones. How are you?”

There was something about his voice. A hesitation. Her heart sank. “I’m good. What’s going on?”

“You know we really enjoyed your presentation and everyone on the committee thinks the town is great.”