The Deputy's Proof Read online

  He followed her up the plank steps that led them next to a large cypress tree surrounded by thick brush. The ground was spongy beneath his feet, although not wet enough to cover his shoes. There was nobody in the area, and he was glad that nobody was around to see them ascend from the ground.

  Directly in front of them was the swath of land where Shelly’s “ghost” walked. He looked at Savannah, whose features were void of emotion. “So, you walk across here and then what? How do you get back to this same entrance to get back home?”

  “I don’t. On the other side of the path is a hidden cave that leads back to the tunnel we were just in.” She didn’t wait for his response but quickly walked across the path that was her “stage” on nights she performed her ghost routine.

  Josh hurried after her, his mind still reeling from where he’d been and what he’d seen. When they reached the other side, he followed her up a small hill through thick woods.

  She stopped and pulled a tangle of vines and brush aside to reveal the mouth of a cave. Once again a sense of shock swept through him.

  He’d been a deputy in Lost Lagoon for the past ten years. He’d moved to the small town from Georgia when he was twenty-one to take the position of deputy. Ten years and he hadn’t heard a whisper of the presence of the underground network.

  He followed her into the mouth of the cave and found himself again in a tunnel that merged into the one they’d used from Savannah’s backyard.

  They were silent as they returned the way they had come. The initial excitement and surprise of what he’d seen had passed. Instead he was acutely attuned to the air of defeat that emanated from Savannah while she walked slowly in front of him.

  He dreaded the conversation to come. There was no way he could keep this information to himself. Who knew what might be found in the other tunnels? Who knew where they led? It was a historical find that should be made public to the appropriate authorities.

  What surprised him was that Savannah had possessed the nerve to go down there and explore on her own. It must have been frightening the first time she’d decided to drop down that hole and follow the tunnel.

  When they came back up in her backyard, the July sun and humidity were relentless. He hadn’t realized how much cooler the tunnels had been until now.

  “Come on inside and I’ll get us something cold to drink,” she said without enthusiasm.

  It wasn’t the best invitation he’d ever gotten from a woman, but he was hot and thirsty, and they weren’t finished with their business yet.

  Once inside, he sat in the same chair at the table where he’d sat the night before. She went to the cabinet and pulled down two glasses.

  She turned to look at him, her eyes dull and lifeless. “Sweet tea okay?”

  “Anything cold is fine,” he replied.

  She opened the refrigerator and poured the tea. She then carried the glasses to the table and sat across from him. Her eyes were now dark pools of aching sadness, so aching that he couldn’t stand to look at them.

  He took a sip of the cold tea and then stared down into the glass. “You know I can’t keep this a secret,” he finally said.

  “I know you can’t keep it a secret forever,” she replied.

  He gazed at her, and this time in her eyes he saw a tiny spark of life, of hope. He steeled himself for the argument he had a feeling was about to happen.

  God, it just took that single spark in her eyes for him to remember the woman she’d been, and he couldn’t help the swift curl of heat that warmed his belly. It was a heat of the visceral attraction he’d forgotten had once existed where she was concerned.

  “Give me one more night,” she said. “Just let me have one more walk before you tell anyone about the tunnels.” She leaned forward, her eyes now positively glowing with focus. “One final walk, Josh. At least let me have that before it all blows up.”

  “Savannah...”

  “Those tunnels have been a secret for who knows how long,” she said, interrupting him. “Can’t you just keep them a secret for another week or so?”

  He told himself it was too big, that he should report on what he’d found out immediately. He sat up straighter in his chair, determined to do the right thing, and then she surprised him. She reached across the table and covered one of his hands with hers.

  “Please, Josh, all I’m asking for is a week. I can do a final ghost walk next Friday night, and then you can tell whoever you want about the tunnels.”

  Her hand was warm, almost fevered over his, and for just a moment, as he stared into the dark pools of her eyes, he forgot what they’d been talking about.

  He mentally shook himself and pulled his hand from beneath hers. Duty battled with the desire to do something for her, something to make up for letting her down two years before when he should have chosen real justice over his job.

  He took another drink of tea and then stood. He needed to think, and at the moment he was finding it difficult to think rationally.

  “I assume you’re working your usual shift tonight at the inn?” He moved toward the back door. He needed to get away from her winsome eyes, the floral scent of her that filled his head.

  “Eleven to seven,” she replied. “Why?”

  “I need to think about everything. I won’t say anything to anyone today, and I’ll stop by the Pirate’s Inn tonight sometime during my shift and let you know what I’ve decided to do.”

  She opened her mouth as if to make one more plea, but closed it and nodded. “Then I guess I’ll see you sometime tonight.”

  He left her house and walked around to his car. No patrol car today, just a nice red convertible sports car that most women would definitely consider a boy toy.

  He’d bought the car a year ago, and the day he signed the ownership papers, his head had been filled with the memory of his twin brother, Jacob.

  When the two boys had been growing up, they’d dreamed of owning a car like this...flashy and fast and nothing like the old family car their parents had driven. That old car had been held together by string and hope because new cars cost money the Griffin family didn’t have.

  Driving to his house, he once again thought about the surprising discovery of the tunnels. The presence of them had been such a shock. Had they been made by pirates who were rumored to have used the Lost Lagoon town as a base camp? Would there be treasures and artifacts in one of those passageways that would identify who had made them and why?

  It was much easier to think about the tunnels than about the woman he’d just left. But thoughts of Savannah intruded. Of the two sisters, he’d always thought she was the prettiest. She was softer, a little bit shyer than Shelly, but she’d drawn Josh to her.

  She’d had a smile that lit up her face and made it impossible not to smile back at her. He wondered if she had smiled at all in the last two years.

  He pulled into the driveway of his three-bedroom ranch house. He’d bought the house when it was just a shell and had added amenities like an extra-long whirlpool tub for a tall man to relax in and a walkout door from the bedroom to a private patio. He’d also put in all the bells and whistles in the kitchen area. He’d been told by the builder that it would be good for resale value.

  The cost of living in Lost Lagoon was relatively low, and his salary was good, as few lawmen would choose to spend their careers in a small swamp town.

  When he got inside, he sat at his kitchen table with a bottle of cold beer, and once again his head filled with visions of Savannah.

  One week. That was all she’d asked for. Just seven days. But was it even right for him to indulge her in one more ghost walk? Wasn’t it better just to end it all now and hope that she got some sort of help for the grief that had obviously held her in its grip for far too long?

  And what if Sheriff Trey Walker found out that he’d known about the tunnels and hadn’t come forward immediately? Trey was a tough guy who demanded 100 percent loyalty from his men. Would Josh be putting his job on the line to give Savannah
what she’d asked for?

  He took a long sip of his beer and reviewed his options—none of which he liked.

  Chapter Three

  Savannah stood behind the reception desk in the large quiet lobby of the Pirate’s Inn. The inn had two stories, and the centerpiece of the lobby was a huge, tacky treasure chest that the inn’s owner, Donnie Albright, had been repainting for the last couple of weeks.

  He’d finished the six-foot-tall chest itself, painting it a bright gold, but he still had to spruce up the oversized papier-mâché and Styrofoam jewels and strings of pearls that filled the chest.

  He was also in the process of re-carpeting the guest rooms, all in anticipation of the amusement park that had bought land and was building on a ridge above the small city.

  Most of the businesses were eager for the park to be done, knowing that it would bring in tourists who would shop and spend their money in town. There were plenty of people in town who wanted Lost Lagoon to be “found” and hoped that would happen with the large amusement park under construction nearby.

  At the moment, the last thing on Savannah’s mind was the new pirate-themed park. It was a little after 2:00 a.m., and Josh hadn’t come in yet to tell her his decision about giving her one final walk before telling other people about the tunnels.

  She sat in a raised chair and began to doodle on a notepad. There was only one couple staying in the inn tonight. Beth and Greg Hemming stayed in a room at the inn once a month. They had four children, all under the age of six, and Savannah suspected the night out was not so much about romance, but more about a good night of uninterrupted sleep.

  For years the inn had mostly catered to occasional people who came to Lost Lagoon to visit with family members. It was rare that real tourists stopped in for a room for the night unless they were lost and desperate to spend the night someplace before returning to their journey.

  Shelly had worked as the night manager before her murder. Savannah had taken on the same job a year ago. She was certain it was the most boring job in town.

  She had a degree from a culinary school and had at one time entertained the idea of opening a restaurant in town. Lost Lagoon had a pizza place, George’s Diner, which was just a cheap hamburger joint, and the café. There was no place for anyone in town to have a real fine dining experience.

  That was why she had been living at home, working at the café and saving her money before Shelly’s murder. But the loss of her sister had also stolen Savannah’s dreams.

  A rap on the front door drew her attention, and she grabbed the ring of keys that would unlock the front door. The inn was always locked up for security purposes when she arrived for her shift at eleven.

  She rounded the monstrous, gaudy treasure chest to see Josh standing outside. Her heart fluttered unexpectedly at the sight of him, so tall and handsome in his khaki uniform.

  It was impossible to tell what news he brought by the lack of expression on his face. She fumbled with the key and finally got the door unlocked to allow him inside.

  “Busy night?” she asked as she led him back to the reception area where, in front of the desk, two sofas faced each other and were separated by a large square wooden coffee table.

  “Probably no busier than yours,” he replied. He sat on one end of a sofa, and she sat on the other. “Any guests in the house?”

  “Beth and Greg Hemming are in room 202.”

  “No sightings of old Peg Leg or his drunken friend?” There was a touch of amusement in his eyes as he mentioned the most popular “ghosts” in town.

  “Donnie probably made up that story about pirate ghosts haunting the hallways when he first bought this place years ago,” she replied and wished he’d just get to the point.

  “With the new pirate theme park going up, I imagine Donnie is anticipating lots of guests in the future.”

  “There are certainly going to be big changes around here when the park is finished next summer,” she replied.

  “Whoever thought Lost Lagoon, Mississippi, would become a family vacation destination? I expect we’ll see some new businesses popping up in the near future.”

  “Josh,” she said impatiently.

  “Okay, you don’t want small talk. You want to know what I’ve decided to do about the tunnels.” The blue of his eyes darkened slightly.

  She had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then she was about to be bitterly disappointed.

  “I stewed about it all day. You know I have to tell, but I’m willing to wait until next Saturday on one condition. Friday night, when you do your final walk, I go with you.”

  “I’ve been making these walks alone for the last year. It isn’t necessary for you to come with me,” she protested. He threatened her just a little bit. He was too sexy, his smile was too warm. He radiated a vibrant energy that felt dangerous to her.

  “That’s the deal, Savannah. I go with you next Friday night, or tomorrow I tell Trey about the tunnels.”

  She could tell by his firm tone that he meant it. She should be grateful that he had given her as much as he had. “All right,” she said. “I appreciate you giving me one last walk. I go down into the tunnel about eleven thirty or so. If you aren’t by the bush at that time next Friday, I won’t wait for you.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be there,” he assured her and stood. She got up as well and followed him back to the door. “So, we have a date next Friday night,” he said, the charming amusement back in his eyes.

  “A date under duress,” she replied coyly.

  He pushed open the door to leave but turned back to look at her. “You know, you might try walking in the sunshine sometime. It’s so much better than walking in the shadows.”

  He didn’t wait for a reply but turned and walked away. She locked the door after him and returned to the chair behind the desk.

  She didn’t even want to contemplate his parting words. He knew nothing about her, nothing about her life...her loss. All she had to do was see him one last time, next Friday night, and then she wouldn’t have to see Deputy Josh Griffin again.

  The night passed uneventfully, and by seven, when owner Donnie Albright showed up to relieve her, she was exhausted. She’d spent most of the quiet night as she usually did, sitting and trying not to think, not to feel.

  Once at home, she changed out of the tailored blouse and black slacks she wore to work and into a sleeveless cotton nightgown and then fell into bed. The dark shades at her bedroom window kept out the sunlight, and she didn’t have to worry about phone calls or unexpected guests interrupting her sleep.

  Since Mac had moved out, the only person who ever came by the house was Chad Wilson, who delivered groceries to her once a week on Thursday afternoons.

  Because she was off Thursdays and Fridays, she always got special items to cook on those days, meals she might have served customers in her own restaurant if her world hadn’t fallen apart.

  She finally fell asleep and dreamed of days gone by, when Shelly and Bo were a couple and she often spent time with them. Bo often teased that he was the luckiest guy in the world, with two beautiful women on his arms. He’d been like a brother to her, and she’d grieved the loss of his friendship almost as deeply as she did Shelly.

  Her dream transformed, and a vision of Josh filled her mind. He held her in his arms, his body fitting close against her own as his lips covered hers in a kiss that seared fire through her.

  She awakened irritated that the sexy lawman had held any place at all in her dreams.

  For the next four days, she went to work each night and came home each morning and slept. In the late afternoons, when she was awake, she vegged out in front of the television, trying not to think about the fact that Friday night would be her final tribute to her sister.

  She was almost grateful on Thursday afternoon when Chad showed up with the bags of groceries she’d ordered the day before from the grocery store.

  Although she’d always found the thirt
ysomething deliveryman a bit odd, he brought her not only the things she wanted to cook but also a wealth of gossip.

  If Josh hadn’t held up his end of their bargain, she would know about it from Chad. He’d tell her all about the discovery of the tunnels and the exploration that was taking place.

  She answered his knock on the back door and allowed him and his grocery bags inside the kitchen. “How are you doing today, Savannah?” he asked with his usual good cheer. As always, his dark brown hair stood up in spikes, and his caramel-colored eyes danced around the room as if unable to focus on any one spot.

  “Good. How about you?” she asked. He placed the bags on the table, and she began to unload them.

  “I’ve been busy today. Old Ethel Rogers fell and broke her hip last week, so I made a delivery to her earlier. You look pretty in that sundress. You should get out of this house more often.”

  “Thank you for the compliment,” she replied. “What else is going on around town?”

  He sat at the table as she continued to unpack and put away the food. “Mayor Jim Burns is pressuring all the businesses on Main Street to update and renovate their shops, and some people aren’t happy about it. Former mayor Frank Kean is buzzing around between town and the construction site for the new park, and Claire Silver and Bo McBride got engaged.”

  He slapped his hand over his mouth, his eyes wide. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you that last part.”

  Savannah smiled. “No, it’s okay. I hope he and Claire will be very happy together.” She wasn’t surprised they had found love together, and she wanted love for Bo. He would always hold a special place in her heart as the man who had once loved Shelly.

  “You know, maybe we could go out some time,” Chad said. “Maybe have dinner at the café. You know, just casual-like.” His gaze moved from her to the stove and then back to her.

  “I’m sorry, Chad. It’s nothing personal, but I don’t go out.”

  He frowned. “Are you sure it’s nothing personal? I know I don’t have a great job, and I’m not as smart as a lot of people.”