Somebody to Love(56)

“I’m afraid you have to stay overnight,” James said.

She pulled back, eyes wide with horror.

“Just kidding,” he said, grinning. “You’re free to go.”

Those beautiful eyes narrowed. “You’re a horrible man.”

“Hey. I’m not the drug dealer here.”

“My cousin is growing pot in her greenhouse,” Parker said. “That’s another thing. Pot, James.”

“More on that later,” he said, taking her hand and leading her up the stone stairs. “Let’s get you home. Thanks, Officer.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, sitting at his desk and picking up a newspaper.

“Yes, thanks for nothing,” Parker echoed. “What happened to Young Billy? He would’ve come down here and cleaned up that mess, I bet. I only called for you a thousand or so times.”

“You know how many drunks we get bellowing for us all the time?” the cop said, turning a page of the newspaper. “A lot.”

“I’m not a drunk! I should never have been in here. I thought it was a fern!”

“Right.”

“It looked like a fern.” The officer rolled his eyes. Parker turned to James. “It looked like a fern, James. Or a miniature Japanese maple tree. It was actually quite pretty. And since I’m not a drug dealer and in fact made it all the way to the ripe old age of thirty-five without ever having smoked marijuana or even a cigarette, I can tell you, I had no idea what it was!”

“And yet a ninety-nine-year-old lady in the nursing home ID’d it immediately,” the cop said.

“So maybe she’s a pot smoker! I’m not!” Parker snapped.

“Okay, settle down, honey,” James said.

At the term of endearment, she glanced at him sharply. Then she took a deep breath and flicked the cop’s newspaper. “Thank you so much for your hospitality, Officer,” she said. “Have a wonderful day.”

“You’re that rich chick, aren’t you?” he said, finally looking up. “The one whose father is in jail?”

“Yes.”

“Runs in the family, I see.”

She straightened into princess posture and tilted her head slightly. “And inbreeding must run in yours.”

“Okay, Parker, let’s go,” James said. “Don’t get into more trouble.” He took her hand more firmly this time and led her out into the cool, clear night.

“We need to get Beauty,” Parker said. “She’s at Maggie’s—at least I think she is. Young Billy Bottoms—”

“I already picked her up. She’s in the truck.”

James held the door for Parker, and at the sight of her dog, she seemed to melt a little. “Hi, honey,” she murmured, burying her face in the dog’s neck. Same as she’d done to him.

“So. Jail,” he said. “I guess you can cross that off your bucket list.”

“Yes. That and amputating a toe, just for fun.”

He glanced at her as he backed out and headed past the diner. “You okay?”

“Peachy.”

“That hug was nice,” he said mildly.

She didn’t answer for a minute, though her cheeks flushed slightly. “Did you have to…arraign me or whatever? Put up bail?” she asked.

“Yep.”

“I’ll pay you back.”

He sighed. Emphatically.

“Any word from Lavinia?” she asked, looking out the window.

“I talked to her. Says she wants to grow medical marijuana, fully intended to get a license one of these days. Doesn’t seem really concerned about prosecution. She said she slept with the D.A. back in the seventies.”

“Beautiful. So what happens next?”

James glanced at her profile. “There’ll be a hearing. You’ll tell the judge that you didn’t intend to sell an illegal substance. Maybe a fine, some community service. I wouldn’t worry about it. Lavinia will have to give her plants to a licensed marijuana grower.” He was already going through a mental Rolodex to see if he had any friends from law school practicing in Maine who might be able to do him a favor.

They were home within minutes. Parker jumped out of the truck, Beauty on her heels. The dog had been friendly enough when James had picked her up at Maggie’s house, where she’d been rolling around on the floor with Maggie’s much bigger yellow Lab, but now that Parker was back, he was once again persona non grata.

“I’ll make you something to eat,” James offered.

“That’s okay. I have to call Nicky,” she said. “I haven’t talked to him all day.”

“You gonna tell him what happened?”

She gave him an odd look. “No, James. He’s five.”

“Right.” Stupid question.

“But first, a shower. I thought Crazy Dave was going to throw poop at me, like the gorillas do at the zoo.” She shuddered, gave him a grin and disappeared into the bathroom. A second later, the door popped open, and for one ridiculous, wonderful instant, he thought she was about to invite him in.

“Thank you, James. For the bail and whatever else you had to do. And for getting Beauty.”

“You’re welcome,” he said.