French Roast (36 page)

EXCERPT FROM THE GRAND OPENING

Chapter 1

Deputy Sheriff Peggy McBride didn’t care what conventional wisdom said about men, meat, and fire. Barbecues had been invented by women.

Some mother had come up with the idea of setting up in the backyard and throwing meat on the grill. Where else could kids run around and howl like banshees with other children while their mothers enjoyed adult beverages, conversation, and chow?

Add in the fact that you didn’t have to dress up like you did for a stuffy
inside
party, and BBQs pretty much ruled Peggy’s universe. Too bad she lived in the Colorado Rockies now, or she’d do this year round.

“Mom, why didn’t you let me bring my new baseball?”

“We don’t want anything to happen to another window, do we?”

Her seven–year–old son gave a mulish scowl—so like her own. “Gosh, Mom, it was an accident. Really! Uncle Tanner says things like that happen when you’re learning to play ball.”

Usually her brother was on her side. She frowned. Maybe his wife, Meredith, would back her up on this one.

“You can play baseball at his house then. Not at Jill’s.” She hoped he wouldn’t ask Jill. Meredith’s sister spoiled Keith rotten. Peggy loved that she’d gained an extended family through Tanner, but she hoped Jill would become more of a disciplinarian when she had her twins in a couple of months. Maybe her new husband, Brian, would help with that.

“But Mom…”

She tuned out the whining. If she could tune out a suspect spewing curse words, then she could certainly tune out her own son. And thank God for that. They were less than a month into school vacation, and the whines like
I’m so bored, Mom
were making her crack. She’d mostly gotten over the guilt.

Being a single mother, there wasn’t anyone else to share it with.

Keith tugged on her shirt, startling her. She gripped the pie in her hands a little tighter. Walking down Dare Valley’s small–town sidewalk carrying a dessert couldn’t have embarrassed her more. Did she look like someone from the Colorado Welcome Wagon? Thank God for frozen pie crusts. All she had to do was dump in condensed milk and lime juice, freeze it, and wham, she had a key lime pie. Keith went nuts for it.

His disgruntled symphony finally made her eyelid spasm. “Enough, please. We’re going to have a great time today. Jill and Brian know how to throw a party.”

“I like her new name. McConnell. Tanner says she’s like him now. A ‘Mc.’”

Leave it to her brother. McBride and McConnell. Like they were Irish ancestors or something.

“Is Grandpa Hale going to be there too?”

She smiled. Jill and Meredith’s grandfather treated Keith like he was his own flesh and blood. They played checkers and went out for ice cream. It warmed her heart.

“Yes, Arthur will be there.”

“What about Mr. Maven?”

Her lips twitched into a scowl, and her BBQ giddiness faded. The answer was yes. Jill’s boss would probably be there. He was her arch–rival in the community—a poker–playing, hotel–building slickster nicknamed Maverick—but he made her traitorous feminine parts squeal. She’d tried to stop him from building his new boutique poker hotel in town and lost. He’d taken it personally. Who could blame him? They’d basically ignored each other since the city council had approved the plans for the hotel six months ago. Come to think of it, it was pretty impressive that she’d managed to go that long without uttering a word to him, especially since Jill worked for him. He was around all the darn time, making her feel at once guilty and achy.

“Yes, he’ll probably be there.”

“Okay,” Keith muttered, kicking a rock on the street.

Her guilt spiked. Keith loved Maven, so her ‘Cold War’ with him had her son confused—he was loyal to her, but didn’t understand why she had taken such a dislike to his buddy.

How could she explain it to a kid? It was hard enough explaining why she and his dad had broken up and why Frank never seemed to remember Keith’s birthday.

“There’ll be other kids to play with. You’ll like that, right?”

He picked up a stick and heaved it across the street. “Great, ‘cause I’m never going to have a baby brother or sister of my own. It stinks. Why can’t you just find one when you’re working and bring it home?”

Her eye spasm tapped like a telegraph. “Because it’s illegal, Keith. We’ve discussed this before. You’re my number one guy.”

“I’d help you, Mom. I would, I would.”

She wasn’t stupid enough to miss the beginnings of a common negotiation. The whole
If I can’t have a baby, can I have a puppy?
routine.

The kid was devious. She did the same thing to suspects all the time. The famous McBride genes ran in his veins. It made her proud.

Except when it made her nuts.

“Keith, we’ll go home for a time–out if you don’t stop this. “

“But the pie will melt.” He pointed, his determined chin thrust out. “See, there’s already water on the sides. That’s consdenforum.”

“Condensation,” she automatically corrected.

A loud clatter on the sidewalk made her ears cock back. Who was wearing high heels to a BBQ? Someone looking to get laid, but the shoes didn’t sound right. More like horse hooves. She looked over her shoulder and froze.

There was a freakin’ moose behind them.

She almost dropped the pie. None of her experiences as a cop had prepared her for this
Northern Exposure
moment. God must have had an off–day during Creation Week. It had to be the ugliest, weirdest thing in the animal kingdom. It looked like a tall buffalo with the hump back and sweetheart–shaped face. The ginormous head bounced as it clicked along on legs that looked too spindly to support its massive body. It could have used a serious wax and trim with all that mangy hair sticking out.

Those eerie brown eyes stared at her. Goosebumps skittered across her skin. She’d seen the same look in criminals. This thing wasn’t going to leave them alone. He wanted something. Or was it a she? It didn’t have any of those horn–thingies. What were they called? Oh, antlers.

Moose didn’t eat people, did they?

Why had she moved to the Colorado Rockies again?

She tucked the pie in the crook of her arm and took Keith’s hand. “Okay, let’s pick up the pace.”

She vowed never to walk to Jill’s house again. Who cared about gas prices and fluorocarbons when they lived in Wild Kingdom? Heck, she’d heard about bears in people’s backyards, but this…

This was nuts. They were on foot with a determined moose in hot pursuit.

Ever attuned to her emotions, Keith tugged on her grip. “What’s wrong, Mom?”

“We need to walk faster. There’s a moose behind us.” She’d always been honest with him. Plus, he was bound to look back and see the freakin’ thing. How could you miss a seven–foot ball of hair?

He jerked his head around. “Holy crap!”

She didn’t correct his language. Just tugged him along as she snuck glances at the moose over her shoulder.

“What do we do?”

“Umm…” She realized she wasn’t sure. She’d heard people talk about deer and bears, but never moose. Or was that mooses? Meese?

Well, except for one thing…
Don’t get near one.
Her blood ran cold.

Keith’s hand trembled in hers. “It’s really big.”

Understatement. They turned right. The clip–clop increased. She watched as the moose increased its pace, brown eyes gleaming.

“Mommy, it’s walking faster.” Keith darted forward, almost jerking her arm out of the socket.

The moose tossed its head. Jeez, that couldn’t be good.

Keith was onto something.

“Let’s run,” she said.

The moose snorted, sending a jolt of pure terror down her spine. Clutching Keith’s hand in a vice–like grip, she started sprinting.

The clip–clop shifted to the thundering of hooves. Peggy scanned Juniper Street, looking for options. The tree branches were too tall to climb. The houses in this part of town were tucked back from the street. Plus, what if the owner wasn’t home? She and Keith would be cornered.

The moose was gaining on them, even with that weird, lumbering body. The head dipped.

All of the saliva drained from her mouth.

If they couldn’t make it, she’d have to distract the dumb thing so Keith could get away. Like judo was going to work on this thing. Maybe running in a different direction would keep its attention focused on her? Cold sweat broke out under her clothes.

They were about four blocks from Jill’s when the moose halted, stomped its feet like a flamenco dancer, and lowered its head. She could almost hear it yell
Charge!
Its pounding hooves echoed in her ears.

“Run, Keith, run! Don’t stop! Get Uncle Tanner.” Her brother would know what to do. He always did.

She stopped and turned around, clutching the pie. Maybe she could use it as a shield. Right.

The moose stopped when she did, watching her. Its floppy ears curled back. The grunts issuing from its mouth made her think of the deranged sex offender she’d arrested last year.

She braced her legs, prepared to spring to the side at the last minute if it charged.

A car revved, racing down the street. She was in the middle of the road. God, what a choice—she could be hit by a car or a moose.

A red Ferrari screeched to a halt between them. The beast tossed its head and charged, hitting the car with a resounding thunk. Glass cracked. Metal bent like Superman had put his fists through it.

Shock rolled through her at the sheer destructive power of the thing. The passenger side door swung open as the moose ambled around the side dazedly. “Get in, Peg.”

Magically, miraculously, it was Mac Maven, staring at her with his stoplight green eyes, which always made her think of a traffic light telling her,
Yes, go, nothing’s stopping you.
She darted for the vehicle as the moose headed her way.

Keith stopped halfway up the block. “Mommy!”

“Run! Get Tanner!”

She jumped into the car and slammed the door, watching Keith run off. Thank God.

The moose circled back and hit Maven’s side again, shaking them like clothes in a dryer. Metal whined with the impact. Glass splintered into spider webs.

Her nemesis gripped her shoulders. “Are you all right?”

“There’s a moose chasing us!” she sputtered.

He was all but leaning into her lap to evade the shower of glass. “Right. Stupid question.”

“Okay, let’s get out of here.”

The moose stood in their path. Mac revved the engine. “Move, dammit!

“Go!” she yelled. This was not the time to be a granola–loving tree hugger.

His hands tightened on the steering wheel as the animal landed a crushing blow on the hood like a pro–football linebacker. Something popped, and smoke rolled out from the engine, making her nose twitch. The moose stumbled to the side.

The path clear, he hit the gas. The engine sputtered and died, lights flashing on the dashboard.

“You’re kidding me,” she heaved out.

“Oh, shit! Must have blown something.”

“Try again!”

He turned it over. It didn’t even fire. “It’s like an elephant sat on my car. That thing’s gotta weigh close to a thousand pounds.”

“How can you joke around at a time like this? Where’s your gun?” She dug into his glove compartment.

“I don’t have a gun.”

The moose circled the car. Tossed its head. Its wild, eerie eyes peered through the shattered windows.

Maven’s eyes swept across her, following the moose. “Great, it knows it has us cornered.”

She slammed the glove compartment shut. “Why don’t you have a gun?”

“I don’t like them.”

“How unmanly of you.” The moose fogged up her window as it peered through the web–like glass. Yuck, moose breath. She hit the window to make it go away, causing more spider cracks.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Maven cautioned.

It darted back.

“See, it moved! Just needed to show it who’s boss.”

It lowered its head and charged her side of the car.

Maven tugged her body over the partition between the seats, his strong arms encircling her as he pushed her head against his chest. “Shit. Now you’ve really pissed it off.”

Pie covered her front, its wetness spreading through her shirt. The smell of citrus blended with the smell of burnt car parts hanging thickly in the air.

The moose rammed her side again. The top part of the window blew apart, showering her in glass.

Maven plucked her onto his lap. She flinched at the heat pouring from his body, the sensation of his muscles bunching under her. God, it had been ages since she’d been this close to a man she wasn’t handcuffing. Wasn’t it her luck they were in mortal danger, and he was her enemy?

“Wait! Give me the pie.” He yanked it from her, leaned over, and flung it through the broken part of the window like it was a frisbee.

He gripped her body more tightly against his, a stance so protective she almost fought him. She didn’t need anyone protecting her. She was a cop. Then the moose circled the car again. Who was she kidding? Even cops had partners. Damn, she missed her gun.

Suddenly the moose lifted its head as if sniffing the air. It lumbered toward the pie with its clippity–clop gait, bent over, and clamped it between its teeth. After giving them another eerie glance, it ambled down the street.

Maven dropped his face to her shoulder, hugging her. “Jesus, it was hungry. Thank God!”

“Yeah, hungry.” What was she saying? Her ears buzzed like they did after a drug raid. She realized they were both breathing hard. His heart was pounding like an anvil in his chest, mirroring hers.

They were both shaking.

He pressed his cheek against hers. “You scared me. I saw you stop and let Keith run ahead.” Then he cupped her neck and tunneled his fingers through her short hair.

His concern broke through the power of her hostility toward him. Hell, he’d saved her life. “I had to.”

He rubbed their foreheads together, a gesture so tender her heart cracked open.

“I know you did,” he murmured. “Mom’s instinct. Where’s your car?”

His understanding warmed her even more. Maven’s breath feathered her lips. She wanted to lean into him, giving herself to the heat, the connection.