I Shocked The Sheriff

“I saw the restaurant. What is it, The Golden Pig? Will you accept a nice dinner in lieu of interest?”

“It’s The Golden Pan.” His tone had hardened.

“The Golden Pan,” she repeated tentatively, uncertainties making her look as innocent as a child.

She hadn’t meant to make fun of the restaurant, Luke realized. I guess I don’t have to be so defensive. It’s just that it’s such a temptation to see her again.

Too much of a temptation. “You can drop the money by the station if I don’t see you before you leave town. Just leave it with Bertha at the front desk.”

All too aware he was trying to say goodbye, his gaze touched each of her features.

“Would you like to come in?” She hesitated a moment as if she’d like to take the offer back, shifting nervously on her feet. Then she looked into his face. “I may be from Dallas, but I don’t say that to every man I meet,” she said defensively.

She trembled when the back of his fingers grazed her soft, flushed cheek. Her eyes were as deep as his fishing hole. Was this why he believed in her? This vulnerability that seemed so honest in a woman so bold and brassy? She’s such a contradiction.

Such a temptation.

“I can’t.”

She smiled. “Of course. It’s unprofessional. I understand.” She almost taunted him.

“I can’t because I’m engaged.”

Her head came up.

She searched his face. “Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry I’ve embarrassed myself.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s been a hell of a day and you’re not thinking straight.”

She nodded. Then she lowered her head. She reached for the door to close it. “Good night.”

At the last minute he put his hand up to stop the door from completing its swing. He reached out but didn’t touch her this time. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed.”

She nodded. Not looking at him. It was as if she was ashamed and only wanted him to disappear.

“I’ve never been more tempted.”

3

THE PHONE STARTLED HER out of a nightmare and her hand shook as she reached for the receiver. She pressed it hard against her ear, “Hello?” she rasped out.

“Roxy? Is that you?”

Roxy’s heart sank. “Yeah, Mick, it’s me. How did you find me?”

“Your dad’s housekeeper told me where you were staying. She told me you’re sick.” Panic sharpened his voice.

“I’m not sick. I just got dehydrated and my blood sugar was low. I’m fine now. Where are you? Are you straight?”

“How could I be? You know what Joey did to himself.”

The panic became pain.

“He’s going to be all right.”

“He did it deliberately. He just couldn’t handle it anymore. I’m so tired of fighting this, Roxy. I’m tired of being alone. I want someone to take care of me for a change. Someone strong enough to rely on or I’m outta here.”

Roxy nodded. She could understand being tired of fighting. There’d been many days when the siren song of alcohol had been almost too much to bear and death had seemed easier. The course both her mother and her brother had taken when their addictions had overwhelmed them.

She’d also needed someone to turn to, but Roxy would allow no one to help until that terrible morning when she’d hit rock bottom. She’d finally called her father begging for help, and he’d been there for her.

“Roxy?”

She struggled to sit up, grasping the phone in a death grip. “I’m here, Mick.”

“I need you to come home. I’m falling into the pit.” Obviously stoned, he sobbed without restraint.

“What are you doing? Booze or pills? Mick?”

“Both, man. What does it matter? I’m gonna end up like Joey and I don’t care. Better sooner than later.”

“Mick? Just tell me where you are.”

“I’m at Club Med. Where do you think I am?” His husky voice suddenly sounded sly.

Roxy grasped the phone tighter. “Mick? Tell me where you are.” She couldn’t go from bar to bar. The lights, the booze, the lure of the only true escape would suck her down.

Especially with the specter of Joey hanging over her. He’d been doing so well and then he’d just given in; he’d gotten drunk, added the right pills. She’d been so frightened. Suddenly she was back in time, cradling her dead brother, David, whose beautiful eyes were glazed in death. Dead by his own hand at twenty-six.

His flesh had been so cold…That scene had stolen a childhood of wonderful memories. So she tried never to think about David at all.

At least Joey was alive.

“Mick, please, tell me where you are!” Her voice echoed in the empty motel room.

“Damn him.” The pain in Mick’s voice touched Roxy’s heart. The desperation in it touched her soul.

Mick and his brother were really close. They owned a bar. They’d fed her when she’d been so far down she couldn’t hold a job and wouldn’t go to her father for money. They’d given her a job and self-respect. Then after she’d gotten sober they’d both talked about selling the business, about getting straight. Joey who was forty, ten years older than his brother, had been leading the way.

Roxy knew exactly how Mick felt.

She’d also looked up to David, the way her students looked up to her. That was another reason she couldn’t go back. She ran a support group. Those kids deserved better than to have their mentor fall apart.

Look at me, she thought. I’m no better than Mick. Hot tears covered her face. “Mick, you’re so lucky. He’s still alive. Joey’s still alive and he’s going to be okay.”

“I’m lucky? I sure don’t feel lucky. I’m trying, Roxy, but why fight it? Joey was stronger than me and he couldn’t do it. Why should I even try?”

She heard him take a deep breath.