Whispers Under A Southern Sky

“He may be the sheriff, but he’s also just a guy who needs help with a baby.” Megan kept her eyes on the road, but she used one hand to straighten the pendant on her necklace, a present from her new boyfriend, Wade. The pendant was a tiny saltshaker, which apparently symbolized how they met—they both worked at the Owl’s Roost diner and had their best talks over refilling the shakers.

It was kind of cute, Bailey had to admit. And sort of unheard of to be with a guy who listened to you. But then, Bailey’s last boyfriend had gone to jail around the same time as her mom for also helping Jeremy stalk girls, so, clearly, she attracted the wrong sort.

“I do like babies,” Bailey admitted, double-checking Sheriff Reyes’s address in her phone. She’d always wanted a sibling, but she’d never gotten closer than the occasional new baby doll as a kid. “But I can only work so many hours this semester.”

She’d looked into graduating early after her family became the town’s most talked-about scandal, but she would have had to file the paperwork back in August. Now she was putting all her efforts into loading up on AP classes in the spring to cram as many credits onto her transcript as possible.

“So tell him that.” Megan reached over to give Bailey’s arm a quick squeeze. “He’d be lucky to have you.”

She took comfort from her friend’s easy confidence in her.

“I’m so glad we’re friends again.” Bailey hated that she was Ms. Mushy lately, crying every time she turned around. But it was the truth, and Meg deserved to hear it. “Hanging out with you is the only good thing about me not being able to graduate early.”

“We can have a fun senior year even if no one else wants to hang out with us.” Megan was used to being more of an outcast, and she seemed comfortable enough in her own skin that it didn’t bother her. An unabashed gamer who took quirky to a whole new level, Meg couldn’t get through a day without recounting an idea for the fantasy video game she wanted to create. She also played guitar and composed music that sounded like a sound track to a steampunk novel—electronica meets baroque.

“Fun?” Bailey laughed. “I’d be happy just to know what that word means again.”

The last few months had well and truly sucked. Because watching her mother go to jail and knowing Tiffany had harassed Bailey’s best friend wasn’t the worst of it. She’d also dealt with the fact that J.D. had hit her.

She still hadn’t told anyone about the worst parts of their relationship, and she really needed to. How disappointed would Megan be in her if she found out Bailey was that big of a coward? She’d told the cops he’d shoved her and that had been enough to get a restraining order. But she hadn’t been able to share the rest of it. Maybe that was one of the reasons she’d felt compelled to answer Sheriff Reyes’s ad for a babysitter. Surely she’d work up the courage to talk to him about it if she saw him every day?

“Fun is our new mission, then.” Megan drove onto Partridge Hill Road and slowed the car to look for the house. “We’re not going to let a few bad breaks keep us down. Let’s hear it for girl power!”

She hooted and hollered, pumping a fist out the window. Bailey did the same, needing to yell as an outlet for the nervous energy building up inside her.

She wasn’t ready to face the sheriff yet. And she sure as hell wasn’t ready for the world to know she’d turned into a doormat the moment a bad-tempered guy had taken out his anger on her. How weak did that make her?

For today at least, it felt easier to pretend she was someone else. Someone strong and smart. Someone who didn’t have a secret eating her up inside.

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_5e4e2f33-822a-50ef-86a1-854d9e3b000f)

I need background checks on every candidate.

TWO DAYS AFTER his visit to Amy, Sam sat at the long wooden table on his deck and sent the text to Zach. He’d thought long and hard about where to conduct interviews for a sitter for his son, mindful that it could be problematic for a single man to hire an underage girl. He hoped like hell he got some applicants who were grandmothers. In any case, he’d decided to hold the interviews outdoors, in full view of the road in case nervous parents wanted to oversee the proceedings. He didn’t begrudge any parents the urge to supervise their kids. God knew he wasn’t letting Aiden out of his sight until he was twenty-one.

Which was why he’d called for the background checks on the applicants. To keep Aiden safe. Zach’s digital security firm could unearth even more information than Sam’s police computers. It was a sad commentary on the tools available to a public servant these days, but knowing how important this mission was, Sam wanted the best possible intelligence on the four women he was interviewing today.

Background checks on high school girls?

The text flashed across his phone screen, delivering all the snark that Zach would have given the question in person.

Do I need to remind you J. D. Covington was in high school?

Sam typed with one hand and draped a blanket over the playpen with the other. He’d brought Aiden outside for the interviews, wanting to see how the potential sitters might interact with him. Not that ease with a baby was his number one criterion. Sam himself had possessed zero sense of how to handle a kid when his ex-girlfriend had handed Aiden over to him. But Sam had learned fast.

It still floored him that he had a son. The past month had changed his life so drastically that he didn’t even recognize his house with all the baby gear. Plus he walked through his days like a zombie.

But for the privilege of raising his own child? So worth it. He was just glad his ex-girlfriend had brought the boy to him when she was struggling, or he might not have ever known about his existence. His ex was a traveling nurse, and she’d left town without telling him she was pregnant.

She might have had a tough time with it, but for Sam, who’d been raised in foster homes and had little memory of his real parents, being a dad ranked as the most important thing in his world.

Something he never could have predicted after all the years where catching Gabriella’s stalker had been the priority.

Point taken, Zach texted back. Send names when you’re ready.

Sam was inputting the information when an old white Volvo sedan slowed to a stop on Partridge Hill. He could see the vehicle clearly since his backyard ran parallel to the road. For the last two years, he’d been the only one on this end of the rural county route, but now Amy Finley was living in the woods north of his place. He’d thought about her often since they’d spoken.

Her reaction to his questions had accelerated his timetable for finding a sitter for Aiden, in fact. In his own hurt at leaving her that long-ago summer, he’d overlooked her as a potential witness. Something he would remedy as soon as he secured help watching his son. His foster mother had been helping him out while he was working, so he couldn’t ask her to pinch-hit other times.

“Back here.” Sam raised his voice to be heard across the expanse of lawn separating him from the two girls exiting the Volvo. “You can cut across the grass.”

He recognized both of them. Megan Bryer had almost been one of Jeremy’s victims, and her friend Bailey McCord had the misfortune of dating the younger Covington, J.D., who’d acted as his father’s accomplice. Bailey’s mother was also in jail for her role in harassing Megan, although Tiffany’s expensive attorney wouldn’t let her languish there much longer. The request for a bail hearing had been filed last week.

Sam had never thought much of the pushy town councilwoman, although her husband seemed like a decent guy.

“Hello, Sheriff Reyes,” the girls greeted him in unison, voices matching in pitch and cadence.

He tried not to wince. Had he ever been that young?

“Thanks for coming. Which one of you is looking for some extra work?”

“I am.” Bailey McCord stepped forward. Blonde and blue-eyed, she was a pretty girl who—unlike a lot of the teens he saw around town—didn’t rush to flaunt it. She carried a purple binder with a matching pen that had a feather cap.

“Great.” He pointed to the chair at the long wooden table he’d built himself last fall. “Have a seat, and I’ll tell you about the job.”

“Is it okay if Megan stays?” The pink in her cheeks suggested she was nervous.

He knew he had that effect on people, but he’d never developed much of a knack for fixing it.

“I’d be grateful if she did.” A thought occurred to him. “For that matter, I wouldn’t mind hiring you as a team to babysit my son. An eight-week-old is a lot of work.”

He planned to have Aiden watched at his foster mother’s house since she was at home all day and would be nearby if there were any problems. While she’d offered to watch Aiden full-time herself, Sam worried that would be too much for her since she kept the books for the family’s pizza shop and still supervised two foster sons. But he would rest easier knowing there would be someone else in the house.

Bailey frowned. Megan looked interested, though.

“Really?” Megan took a seat beside her friend. Her hands were covered in henna tattoos and...was that a saltshaker around her neck?

“I’d up the pay accordingly.” His savings were fairly substantial, as he’d invested all his early earnings in Zach’s digital security firm, which had gone on to be extremely successful. “Plus, if you shared the duties sometimes and split them other times, it would ensure I’d have at least one of you available more often.” He liked the idea more and more with a big case to investigate and limited hours to devote to it.

Bailey looked interested now, too; the girls exchanged sidelong glances while Sam explained his schedule and Aiden’s.

Something about the silent give-and-take between the girls brought back a memory from his last summer in Heartache. When he’d asked Amy to ditch the last day of school with him, she’d been in the school parking lot with Gabriella. Amy had met Gabby’s eyes. Later, he’d learned that look had meant that Gabby would cover for her with the teachers. Who knew so much could be communicated in a glance?

Lifting the blanket shading one side of the playpen, he showed off his son and took a moment’s satisfaction out of seeing how quickly the boy sealed the deal. The girls were smitten. But then, that only led him to wonder why his son’s mother couldn’t have been equally charmed. He hated that for Aiden.

“This all sounds good, Mr. Reyes.” Bailey straightened from the playpen and bit her lip. “But before you make any decisions, I want to be sure you know that my mother is Tiffany McCord.” She folded her arms tightly, meeting his gaze. “Just in case, you know, that’s a problem.”

Her honesty about something that was obviously painful to admit notched his opinion of her higher.