Chloe was quick to comply. When shed taken several photos of the cat, she hurried back to show Sarah, only to find her deep in conversation with Whittaker, who was actually chuckling.

Seeing Chloe, he stopped short, then drained his gla.s.s. When he turned toward the cruiser, Sarah reached out to hold him back. I was about to tell Chloe about your devilish sense of humor, she said.

Dont believe a word of it. Mack ran his fingers through his close-cropped hair, resignation settling over his features.

Well, Myron Hapes had a workshop behind his house, Sarah began. A shed, really. Used to relax after a day of delivering the mail by doing woodwork in the evenings. Now when nature called, hed avail himself of an old outhouse on the back of his property. If Estelle Hapes knew I was telling you this, shed have a cow, especially seeing how proud she is of that new twenty-thousand-dollar bathroom she had put in off the master bedroom.

How was this s.h.a.ggy-dog tale going to connect with Whittaker, and how was he going to react? Chloe wondered. Right now his arms were crossed and his eyes were closed as if he was writing up the report of the recent high-school meeting in his head.

Come October, the elderly woman continued, Mack carves a jack-o-lantern, lights it and puts it in Myrons outhouse after dark. Nearly gave the poor man a coronary. Mack was all of six. My, but I can tell you talesSo can most of the neighbors.

I paid my debt to society, the deputy deadpanned. Washed and waxed Mr. Hapess Pontiac every Sat.u.r.day for four weeks.

Funny, Chloe said, getting into the spirit. Perhaps I should follow up on this. Discover what other former scoundrels are now county leaders.

Whittaker froze. Are you here to dig up dirt? Or are you here to write about a department in transition?

A good storys always worth the investigation.

Even Sarah bristled. Well, you wont find any dirt on the sheriff or Mack. They are truly Colum Countys finest. Why, Macks a war hero. Got the medals to prove it.

That and a dollar-fifty will get Ms. Atherton Chloe, she said.

Chloe he repeated her first name as if it were strictly against regulations a cup of coffee at Rachels Diner. We need to get you back to the B and B. Afternoon, Miss Sarah. Thanks for the tea. Abruptly he marched out to the patrol car.

When Chloe started to follow him, Ms. Culpepper asked, Youre not here to make trouble, are you?

No, maam. I plan to write the facts.

Theres facts and then theres truth.

Ill keep that in mind.

Shed found the human-interest core to her story.

CHAPTER THREE.

D ID YOU HURT YOURSELF climbing that tree? Chloe asked.

Mack started. d.a.m.n, hed blocked the extra presence out of the cruiser. No. I didnt hurt myself. He pressed down on the accelerator.

He needed to check back at the office and have a quick briefing with the staff. A heads-up concerning this article, which was becoming more intrusive than hed antic.i.p.ated. He needed to see Tanya. And he needed to remember not to call this kid reporter Chloe as shed insisted. More than the familiarity rattled him. The name itself was unsettling. Feminine and faintly seductive. When hed said it, it had nearly pulled him out of business mode.

Where do you live?

Her simple question caught him off guard. What does that have to do with your story?

Everything has to do with my story until I sort out my notes and choose a central theme.

I thought we agreed the focus would be the department. The team.

Thats what you want it to be.

Hed seen how Athertons face had lit up while Miss Sarah was talking. Reporters loved to chase human-interest stories the way Buster loved to chase squirrels. So let this rookie reporter humanize Breckinridges story, or McMillans or Sooners. His was confidential. There were some things even the electorate had no right to know. He winced as he thought of Miss Sarah describing him as a war hero.

Atherton reached out and ran her fingers lightly over the instruments on the patrol cars dashboard, distracting him.

Dont touch, he snapped.

You or the dashboard? she asked, pulling her hand back. Where do you live?

Not in one of the expensive new developments, he replied, ticked at himself for explaining. So you can stop suspecting misappropriation of department funds. Make that double-ticked for elaborating.

Where, then? She rolled her window down. Then up. Then halfway down. Then settled in to review the photos shed taken. The questions not out of line. A big issue in many metro areas is that teachers, firefighters and police officers often cant afford to live in the neighborhoods they service. Is it the same in Colum County?

Above the office theres a small barracks. I live there.

She plunked the Nikon in her lap. Do the other deputies? The surprise in her voice warned him to be cautious.

Not full-time, he admitted.

Why do you?

Because Im married to my job. He wasnt about to tell her how the sheriff, afraid Mack might backslide into alcohol, had installed him in the barracks. When his life had stabilized, Mack hadnt seen much point in moving, although his parents kept bugging him about how they kept his room at the farmhouse available, should he ever want to return home.

Thankfully, the bed-and-breakfast came into view. He pulled the cruiser to a head-snapping halt in front.

Deputy Whittaker?

Without enthusiasm, he turned to look at his pa.s.senger. He could use a drink.

Your doubts about our working together wouldnt come from the fact that Im a woman, would it? she asked.

He gritted his teeth. Working with womeneither in the department or in the armyhad never been a problem. But how could he say so now without sounding defensive? Im sure well get along fine.

Good. See you tomorrow. She got out of the car, but left her scent behind. Light. Appealing. Like fresh-baked goods. Simpler days.

He didnt answer her. Didnt set a time for their meeting again. Didnt look in her direction. As soon as he heard her door click, he put the patrol car in gear. Automatic drive.

Chloe watched as Deputy Whittaker drove away, not like a cop, but like a hotrodder. The man was as th.o.r.n.y and closed as a pinecone after the rain. Why, back at Ms. Culpeppers, when Chloe had suggested he call her by her first name, had he not made the slightest, begrudging suggestion she call him Mack? And why had he gone all wooden when the elderly woman mentioned his combat medals? Unless the other deputies proved as intriguing, Chloe was determined to follow Whittaker until she had himand the pull he exerted in the countyfigured out.

Shouldering her heavy backpack, she made her way up the front walk to the bed-and-breakfast, a rambling two-story structure that, despite the rockers on the front porch and the planters still filled with winter pansies, looked as if it might once have been a saloon. Chloe wasnt sure whether June Parker would be offended or amused by that observation.

Chloe was fascinated by the owner. Part nineteenth-century sweet magnolia and part savvy twenty-first-century businesswoman, Ms. Parker was an exquisitely groomed woman of indeterminate age. As well as running a bed-and-breakfast, she apparently gave comportment lessons to the town children and headed an investment club for retired womendiscreet signs at the front desk advertised as much.

Afternoon, Miss Atherton. Wearing a large sun hat, hot-pink Crocs, gardening gloves and an ap.r.o.n that read Im not oldI just need repotting, Ms. Parker knelt in a flower bed. Will you join us for tea at four? Everything on my tea cart is homemade.

Chloe shouldnt have eaten so many of Sarah Culpeppers hermit bars. Of course, she replied, unwilling to miss an opportunity to gather information. Do I have time to freshen up?

Ms. Parker checked a delicate antique watch pinned to her blouse. We both do. Ill see you in the parlor in thirty minutes.

Chloe retreated to her room, grateful for the small luxuries her hostess had provided. Hand-milled soaps, fluffy towels for a quick wash and a big, sensuously soft bed scented with crabapple blossoms from the gardens below. The April breezes ruffled the sheer curtains by the open window and acted as a narcotic, quickly lulling her into a deep, dreamless sleep when shed only intended a catnap.

She awoke abruptly, wondering if it might be morningand time to meet up with that puzzling deputyuntil she smelled the pungent bergamot aroma of Earl Grey, mingled with baking spices. She found herself unexpectedly ravenous. Both for food and for information. Hopping out of bed and glancing in the mirror, she ran her fingers through her hair, then dashed downstairs to find Ms. Parker presiding at a silver tea set. Although a three-tiered sandwich and pastry tray held enough food for, if not an army, then a battalion, the innkeeper was the only person in the room.

Im sorry. I overslept, Chloe explained. Did I miss everyone?

Not at all, Ms. Parker replied, pouring hot tea into a translucent china cup. Were only two today. Mondays arent particularly busy.

Chloe accepted the tea and a seat on a chair covered in pet.i.t point at a table set with linen and fresh flowers. And you went to all this trouble.

Trouble? I hardly think a civilized break in the middle of the day can be categorized as trouble. If I had no guests at all, Id do this for myself. Call it part of my mental health program.

No wonder you couldnt tell June Parkers age. She knew how to take care of herself. If Chloe hadnt moved on to harder news, June would have made a lovely subject for the papers Living section.

But all these goodies Chloe indicated the extravagant tea tray.

At the end of the day I send whats left over to the sheriffs office. Those hardworking deputies deserve some TLC.

An opening.

About Mack Whittaker Him especially.

Chloe was taken aback. If ever there was an individual who appeared able to look after himself, who appeared not to needor noticethe softer things in life, that was Deputy Whittaker.

Mack recently served in Iraq, Ms. Parker explained.

Ah, yes. Ms. Culpepper said hed received medals. Chloe nibbled on a cranberry-orange scone. Heaven. Can you tell me what they were for?

I could. But you should have Mack tell you. The inn owner fingered the delicate lace edging on her linen napkin. Applegate is one big family, Ms. Atherton. Of course we talk among ourselves. But unless we know your daddy, granddaddy and great-granddaddy, were not going to talk to you behind a family members back.

Chloes opened her eyes wide. Well. Now she knew where she stood. Whittakers medals she could research. But it intrigued her that this was the third time today shed met apparent admiration for the deputy, tempered with a reluctance to talk about him.

Perhaps we could switch to first names, Ms. Parker said, and you could tell me about yourself.

Chloe fidgeted in her seat. Without her backpack and her tools of the trade, she felt exposed. She had made herself strong by becoming an observer and never liked being the object of attention.

Were you born and raised around here? June persisted.

No. Im from Atlanta originally. My fathers a mathematics professor at Emory and my mothers an epidemiologist at the CDCCenters for Disease Control. Im a reporter, and thats about all there is to tell, she finished in one long breath.

June smiled over the rim of her teacup. Im sure theres more to the story than that.

Were a family that sticks to the facts, Chloe replied with a twinge of discomfort. To that endIm in town to learn about the sheriffs department. Its procedures. Its personnel.

I certainly hope youre not planning to rummage around in Macks personal pain to sell papers, the innkeeper said, putting her teacup down with a sharp snick.

Chloe didnt back down. Im searching for the right angle. Whether its the town itself, the sheriffs department or the individuals who make up that department.

Then youd better head to the town meeting tonight. Therell be enough topics there for several articles.

Chloe c.o.c.ked her head. Why hadnt the deputy mentioned the town meeting? For his lack of disclosure alone, she wouldnt miss it.

F ROM WHERE HE STOOD IN the corner at the back of the hall, Mack noticed Atherton, dragging her battered backpack, squeeze through the entranceway.

How did she get wind of the meeting?

Unsuccessfully, she looked around for a seat, then began to mingle with the crowd that always formed at the back of the room. The folks who came to shoot the breeze as if there wasnt an official meeting going on in the front. Mack took a count of those citizens nearest the reporter who might be counted gossips. Three notorious talkers. d.a.m.n.

Making s.p.a.ce for latecomers, Myron Hapes stepped closer to Mack. I hear, the retired postal worker said, leaning in, Frank Hudsons getting up a pet.i.tion to turn the county dry. What do you think his chances are?

Slim to none. Mack let out a groan as he saw Atherton moving in his direction.

I know you probably would rather liquor werent so readily available, Mryon said, not bothering to lower his voice. A dry county would make your job easier. Maybe would have made it less easy for you to turn to the stuff.

Tearing his attention from the approaching reporter, Mack glowered at Myron.

Sorry, Mack. I didnt mean to dredge up ancient history.

So why did people always do it? And now, especially, with the fourth estate on the prowl.

I gotta talk to Frank, Myron said hastily, then retreated into the crowd.

Only to be replaced by Atherton. Nice of you to mention there was a meeting tonight, she said, her words laced with accusation.

It slipped my mind. He pretended to concentrate on Deputy Darden, who was at the front of the room answering a question on speed b.u.mps.

I wanted to ask you Shh!

Dont shush me! Im not a child.

Theres a meeting going on, in case you hadnt noticed.

She scanned the groups milling by the door, then rolled her eyes. As if I didnt know the real stuff gets done in these back-of-the-room cabals.

Hed have to look that word up in the sheriffs crossword dictionary.

He looked at his watch. Tanya was expecting him. Ill answer your questions tomorrow, he said. Right now Im off duty. He could only hope she understood he was ent.i.tled to a private life.

But the expression in her eyes was one of disbelief. When you said you were married to the job Even married folks need an occasional break. He inspected her upturned face, suspecting she might be someone else as dedicated to her job as he was. It was his bad luck she regarded him as her job. Without engaging in further chat, he made his way out of the room.