The Bad Boy of Butterfly Harbor(18)
“She called Myra Standing, who got Oscar to walk over to the station to tell us someone was out here making a ruckus with his chain saw. I think your name might have gotten thrown in there somewhere as a minor epithet.” Fletcher pulled off his glasses and tossed them through the open window of his squad car. “You gotta know coming back here was going to be like kicking up a hornet’s nest of gossip. You can’t blow your nose without someone announcing it in the paper.”
“The sheriff’s desk might not be mine till Monday, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t work that needs doing. But yeah.”
“Tongues are definitely wagging. Most people aren’t sure how to feel about you replacing Jake.”
“You one of those people?” Luke needed to know sooner than later what he’d be facing when it came to his own men.
“Haven’t decided yet,” Fletcher said. “You want some help loading up your truck?”
“How do you know I have a truck?”
All six foot three of Fletch straightened with the cockiness Luke remembered from their high school days. “It’s my job to know.”
Between the two of them it didn’t take long to get the wood taken care of and the branches curbside for the service that would be around in a few days’ time.
“What’s next on your agenda?” Fletcher asked as he slammed the truck bed closed and circled around to the cab. Cash woofed through the open window. “Hey, he looks pretty good for what Doc Collins said he’d been through. Hey, boy. Any idea yet as to who tied him up?”
The internet had nothing on Butterfly Harbor when it came to the information superhighway. After all his years away, he would have to readjust to the small-town rumor mill...and fast.
“No, but I’ll be looking. I saw some other downed trees on my drive over here. Thought I’d go check them out. That okay with you, Deputy?”
“Have at it.” Fletcher nodded. “Come by the station for lunch when you’re done.”
Luke shook his head. “Not my place. Not yet.” The last thing he wanted to do was shove out Jake any faster than he was already being pushed.
“You made it your place by taking care of business.” Fletch headed to his car, gestured to Mrs. Ellison, who had emerged from her front door to stand watching them from her porch, with her laser-beam eyes.
Luke gave a quick wave and hauled himself into the truck before she could ignore him. He looked at Cash. “Well, boy. Guess we’re in this for the long term, huh?”
“Woof.”
“My sentiments exactly. Now let’s see what else is out there waiting for us.”
* * *
“SIMON, STOP STRAGGLING and get a move on.” Holly hurried down Monarch Lane to Stories Unbound, Butterfly Harbor’s independent bookstore. Nose down, she checked her phone calendar. She had fewer than forty-five minutes before Twyla had to leave for a dentist appointment, so getting Simon loaded up with a new stack of books was her first priority.
The hours at the diner were beginning to close in on her, but she didn’t have anyone but herself to blame. “Heads up, Holly!”
“Mom!” Simon gripped the back of her jeans with his hand. “Watch out!”
The enormous piece of plywood crossing her path stopped and lowered as Luke’s surprised face popped up on the other side. “Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t see you.”
“Then, who—” Holly craned her neck forward and saw Harvey Mills, hardware store proprietor, rushing toward them, his stubby legs tested by the barrel of a belly he carried.
“Everything okay?” Harvey panted as he reached them. “I thought Luke would wait for some help before loading up his truck.”
“What’s going on?” Holly reached behind her to draw Simon against her side. The sheen of sweat covering Luke’s face and the way his hair fell over his startling blue eyes made her stomach flip. Nothing like a bout of activity to remind a woman of a strong, healthy man.
“Couple of blown-out windows thanks to the storm.” Luke hefted the plywood into his arms and hauled it the remaining feet to his truck. “Heard your dad was having problems getting repair help so I thought I’d pitch in. Hi, Simon.”
“Hi.” Holly felt Simon’s grip on her tighten.
“I’ll just...” Harvey gestured behind him, bulging eyes darting between Holly and Luke as if he expected one of them to combust at any minute. “I’ll send Chet out with the dolly and the last of the wood.” He scrambled off.
“Is this your dog?” Simon trailed after Luke and rose up on tiptoe to peer into the truck. Cash shifted seats and stuck his head out of the open driver’s-side window.