Own the Night (7 page)

While sipping his hot black coffee, Noah watched the dog through the screen for a minute, then turned to find Alana entering the kitchen.

“Good morning.” Her hair was still tousled, and she had a sleepy look in her brown eyes. Her smile seemed strained. “The coffee smells good. Hope you plan on offering me some.”

“Help yourself.” He indicated the blue mug he’d left on the counter for her. “There’s milk in the fridge. Sorry, no cream.”

“Thanks.” She still had on his black T-shirt, but he couldn’t help noticing she wore a bra. The plaid lounge pants were baggy and rolled up a few times, one leg an inch higher than the other.

He waited until she fixed her coffee, then asked, “You sleep okay?”

“No.” She took a tentative sip and wrinkled her nose. Not surprising, since he tended to make the Colombian blend strong enough to strip the paint off his truck. She set the mug down on the Formica countertop and stared at it. “I’m sorry about last night.” She finally looked at him, her expression chastened. “I’m not used to drinking on an empty stomach....” She huffed out a breath and returned her gaze to the mug. “No, I can’t blame the whiskey. I wanted to kiss you and I went for it. That’s it, that’s the truth. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.”

Noah smiled. The only thing uncomfortable had been the fit of his Levi’s. “Yeah, it was a real hardship.”

She slowly turned her head, her eyes narrowed on him. “You aren’t upset?”

“Only with myself.”

She studied him for a second, the tension around her mouth easing. “Care to explain?”

“I’m not a kid. I know better than to act on impulse.”

“So…it has nothing to do with you being the sheriff.”

“Hell, yeah, it does.”

“See, I don’t get that.”

Well, now she was just being ornery. He set his mug on the counter. “I gotta go fill Dax’s water bowl.”

“You can at least answer me first.”

“Didn’t hear a question,” he said, and let the screen door slam behind him. Seconds later he heard it open.
Ah, Jesus.
She couldn’t take the hint and stay put.

“Noah, wait.”

“I like you better sheepish,” he muttered, bending over to scoop up the bowl.

“I was just going to ask what time the bank opened,” she said sweetly, and gave him an innocent smile that didn’t fool him for a minute.

He glanced at his watch. “Not for a couple hours. We have time for breakfast, then for me to check in at the office. Ah, hell.”

“What?”

“It’s Saturday. The bank’s closed.”

She moved back from the door to let him in. “I thought all banks were open half a day on Saturday.”

“Ours isn’t.” How could he have forgotten what day it was? Because she was distracting him, that’s how, and no good was gonna come out of that scenario.

Noah headed for the landline, since he’d left his cell in the charger in his bedroom. Herman Perkins was the bank manager and he would open for an emergency. As long as Noah caught him before the old guy left to go fishing.

When Noah couldn’t get an answer, he tried Pauline, the only other person who worked at the bank. But she didn’t have a key and wasn’t willing to do anything without Herman’s permission, anyway.

Alana waited for him to hang up, leaned a hip against the kitchen counter and looked at him over the rim of her mug. “What’s going on?”

“What happens if you call your bank directly? You know anyone working there well enough?”

She took a thoughtful sip, then pursed her lips, which he hated to admit distracted the hell out of him. “I have a contact who handles my investments, but he wouldn’t be in today, and I don’t know his number in the Hamptons.”

“Last night you mentioned your mother....”

Alana stiffened. “Nope. Not an option. I’d rather sleep on that cot in your jail until Monday.” She sighed. “Please don’t make me do that.”

He smiled to himself and walked over to the coffeepot to refill his mug. “You can stay here for the weekend.”

“I’ll have to borrow some money, or maybe you can vouch for me at the store and I can run a tab.”

“What? You don’t like my clothes,” he said, eyeing the black T-shirt and wishing she’d skipped the bra.

“Only if you plan on keeping me locked up here.”

“The thought crossed my mind.”

“Why, Sheriff…” She cocked her head to the side, eyes sparkling, those lush lips lifted in amusement. “This is getting more and more interesting.”

He was an ass. Teasing her like this was only going to get him in trouble. What he should do was turn her over to Roy for watching. At least then Noah wouldn’t be tempted to cross the line that existed between a sheriff and a victim…or a criminal. Problem was, all he really wanted to do was kiss her again.

7

S
HOPPING
IN
A
BE
’
S
V
ARIETY
WAS
certainly entertaining. The store was half the size of Noah’s two-bedroom house and crammed with everything from athlete’s-foot powder to peppermint chewing gum.

Alana dropped a hairbrush into her shopping basket, then stopped at the rack of costume jewelry and picked up a pair of silver hoop earrings the size of bracelets. Who wore these?

“What you’ve got there is genuine silver plate,” Abe said, studying her over the reading glasses that rested high on his ruddy, bulbous nose. “It’s the last pair in the store.”

“Very nice,” Alana said, and returned them to the rack. She wished Noah hadn’t implied that she could shop till she dropped and that Abe shouldn’t worry about the bottom line.

Well, Noah hadn’t phrased it quite that way, and she wasn’t concerned about how much she spent, but the owner was virtually drooling as he hovered, thinking he was in for a big sale. Something that most certainly wouldn’t happen. Not here, she thought, as she regarded the array of dated merchandise, the meager sampling of T-shirts, underwear and socks packaged in threes.

Okay, so anything she bought would be worn only for a few days. Just until her luggage was recovered. And if it wasn’t? The idea depressed her. It wasn’t the clothes; they could be replaced. But her passport and her absolute favorite pair of earrings had been in the inside pocket of her purse. In fact, the handmade brown leather satchel was also a favorite, something that she’d picked up in Florence three years ago.

She held up a pair of Levi’s. They were horribly cut, much more suited for a man. Loath to ask him anything, Alana glanced over her shoulder at the owner. “Are these the only jeans you have?”

His gray brows shot up toward his receding hairline. “What else is there besides Levi’s?”

“Right,” she murmured. “Thank you.”

A woman’s rusty chuckle came from behind the rack shared by magazines and every flavor of beef jerky known to man. At least Alana assumed it was a woman, one who apparently hadn’t kicked her cigarette habit.

“You’re only gonna get the basics here.” A slightly heavyset, fiftysomething brunette grabbed a
Country Living
magazine and limped toward Alana. “You want something pretty you best try Virginia’s. Or even Louise’s Fabric Shop. She has some ready-made sundresses, though it’s a bit chilly for dresses. I’m Sadie. I own the Watering Hole down the block.”

“What are you doing, sticking your nose around here and hijacking my customers?” Abe said, but he didn’t look upset. If anything, he had a sparkle in his faded blue eyes that hadn’t been there a minute ago.

“Be quiet, old man. Can’t you tell this is a lady of quality? Think she wants to wear these?” Sadie held up a package of pastel-colored panties. The first pair, a pale pink, read Sunday in fancy black script.

A short laugh escaped Alana. This had to be some kind of joke. There was a hidden camera somewhere.

Sadie tossed the package back onto the heap between the white T-shirts and men’s briefs. “Noah asked me to check up on you, see if you need anything. Damn shame your things being stolen in the middle of town right under everyone’s nose. Never heard anything like that around here.”

“I’m still hoping it was a kid’s prank and that everything will turn up intact.” Alana paused, looking for reassurance.

The woman offered none. “The news has got people scratching their heads. Most folks don’t even bother locking their doors. Bet they all did last night.”

Alana’s optimism slipped a few notches, and she decided she’d better take this shopping expedition more seriously. “You said something about a Virginia’s?”

“Yep.” Sadie eyed Alana’s navy blue slacks, the same ones she’d worn yesterday, along with the Armani blazer she’d pulled over Noah’s T-shirt. “On second thought, I doubt Ginny’s got anything in stock to your liking.”

The woman’s assessment wasn’t critical or judgmental, but that didn’t stop Alana from feeling defensive. “I don’t need anything fancy. Lady’s-cut jeans would be nice, and anything other than a T-shirt.”

“I’ll take you over there.” Sadie picked up a package of white cotton granny panties, squinted at the size marked in the corner, then tossed it into Alana’s basket. “Sorry, but Abe’s your man for panties,” she said, louder than necessary.

“Yep, Sadie, you’re a real hoot and a holler,” Abe called out, shaking his head in disgust.

The woman’s mouth spread in a self-satisfied grin. “Any other toiletries you need, you best get them here. A few years ago we were all set to get one of those real nice Family Dollar stores built south of town so we wouldn’t have to drive to Kalispell for everything Abe doesn’t carry. Then the economy went kaput....” She shrugged. “Now that the Sundance is open and doing well maybe we’ll see some life breathed back into this poor town.”

Not if their guests kept getting robbed on Main Street,
Alana thought. “How far is Kalispell from here?”

“Forty, forty-five minutes, depending on who’s behind the wheel.” Sadie sorted through bundles of socks. “I’d drive you myself except I got nobody to tend bar this afternoon. You pick up any brassieres yet?”

Alana hadn’t heard that term before, though she knew what Sadie meant even without looking at the package the older woman held up. “Don’t tell me—white, industrial strength only.”

Sadie’s gravelly chuckle turned into an awful wheezing cough. She turned her head and covered her mouth, muttering an apology.

“You okay, Sadie?” Abe asked, concern creasing his face and bringing him out from behind the counter.

“I’m fine.” She waved him off. “It’s my bronchitis acting up.”

“I see your leg ain’t healed yet, either. You been to see Doc Heaton?”

She waited until the coughing fit subsided and nodded. “I saw him.” She shook her head with self-directed disgust. “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to blow out your eardrums.”

Alana awkwardly patted the woman’s arm. She wasn’t good at this sort of thing, but Sadie was obviously mortified. “Your leg—I saw you limping. I assumed it was something more permanent.”

“Nah, I got a good-size gash near my ankle from a broken bar glass. Last year I found out I got the sugar diabetes. Doc says sometimes it slows down the healing process.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Abe muttered. “How many times do I have to tell you that there ain’t any other kind? Just say diabetes.”

Sadie glared at him. “It’s a wonder you have any customers, you ignorant old goat.”

Hiding a smile, Alana concentrated on sifting through the meager selection of bras, though she’d pretty much decided that she’d end up washing hers out each night. She was picky about lingerie.

“Bet Doc also told you to stay off your feet,” Abe continued. “Instead of steering my customers to another store, you should be taking it easy.” He pretended annoyance as he straightened items on a shelf, but his concern for Sadie was clear. “Hope you aren’t planning on tending bar and waiting tables all afternoon and tonight, too.”

“Gretchen is coming in at six,” Sadie said with a sigh. “Couldn’t get her or Sheila to come in sooner.” It was as if a switch had been flipped and she remembered who she was talking to, because she suddenly frowned at him. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Dang stubborn woman,” he muttered as he returned to the register.

“You know what?” Alana returned the granny panties to the shelf. She didn’t want Sadie walking her anywhere. If necessary, Alana would find Virginia’s on her own later. “I think I prefer these, after all.” She scooped up the day-of-the-week bikini panties. “With my day-planner stolen, at least with these I’ll know what day it is.”

Sadie started to laugh again, but caught herself before she aggravated the congestion in her chest.

Alana turned to give the woman privacy, noticed a package of T-shirts in different colors and tossed it into her basket.

“Here’s a slim cut that should fit you.” Sadie held up a pair of Levi’s against Alana’s hip. “Good length. You shouldn’t have to roll them.”

“Perfect.” She draped them over her arm and surveyed the contents of her basket, everything from deodorant to a charcoal eye pencil and mascara. “This should do it.”

“I reckon Noah will have a sweatshirt he can loan you when it gets too chilly in the evening,” Sadie said, and Alana didn’t miss the sly glance that passed between the two busybodies.

“Did you want to know if I’m staying with him?” Alana asked, directly meeting each pair of blue eyes. “If so, I’d suggest you ask the sheriff.”

“Hell, we all know you’re staying at his place. Can’t keep a thing like that secret in Blackfoot Falls. What we don’t know is which room you’re staying in, his or the guest room.”

“Oh, God. You people need more entertainment in this town.” Alana moved to the register and set the basket on the counter. She kind of liked Sadie, but wasn’t about to get that chummy with her.

“That’s a fact,” the woman said. “The boys are getting tired of shooting pool and feeding the jukebox. At least since those gals from the Sundance have been popping in, the younger hands don’t go spend their paychecks in Kalispell every Friday and Saturday.”

“You have a real jukebox?”

“The genuine article.”

“You know, I’ve never seen one.”

“Tell you what. After slowpoke here finishes ringing you up—” Sadie looked pleased when she got a snarl out of Abe “—we’ll go by Virginia’s and Louise’s. Then I’ll take you to the Watering Hole. I don’t open for another hour, but I gotta set up, and you can play some tunes on the old girl. I’ll even spring for the quarters.”

“I’d like that, but no more shopping for me. I’ll get my luggage back soon.” When Abe rang up the final item, out of habit Alana reached for her purse, then sighed.

“What does Noah say?” Abe was bagging her purchases, but he stopped what he was doing. “Is he of the mind your things will suddenly turn up?”

Sadie set her magazine on the counter, her brows knitted in a frown as she waited intently for Alana’s answer. In fact, both she and Abe looked as if there was nothing more important at this particular moment than what their sheriff had to say. Clearly, they put a lot of stock in Noah’s judgment.

“I don’t know,” Alana said slowly. “He’s a difficult man to read.”

Grinning, Sadie dug into her jeans’ pocket and laid out some bills. “Not to folks who know him. He’s as uncomplicated as a man could be. Though I’m still not sure why he came back. But we’re lucky to have him.”

“Came back?” Now who was being nosy? Alana couldn’t help it; if she had the chance to learn something about the man, she wasn’t about to lose the opportunity.

“After his stint in the army and then college, he went to Chicago.” Abe passed her the bags and glanced at Sadie. “What was it, three or four years?”

“There about. He was a policeman. Said he liked it.” Sadie picked up her magazine, leaving the bills on the counter. “You can keep the two cents,” she told Abe, then turned to Alana. “You ready?”

Alana had more questions, but she heard the bell over the door, signaling a new arrival. Not anxious to make any more friends, she hurried along. “Abe, do you have a receipt for me, or something I should give Noah?”

“I’ll take care of it,” he said, waving her off and greeting his next customer.

On their way to the bar it troubled Alana that Sadie’s limp seemed to have gotten worse. None of her business, she reminded herself. As the woman put her key in the door, Alana looked up at the sign for the Watering Hole and flashed on the horrific moment yesterday when she’d realized everything had been stolen.

The space between the buildings really was more of a walkway than an alley, though someone could easily have wheeled her suitcase to a waiting car in the back lot. It would’ve had to have been spontaneous. Unless someone had seen her coming from the edge of town and waited right here while an accomplice distracted her. Highly unlikely. This wasn’t New York.

“There was a time when I wouldn’t even bother locking this place,” Sadie said, turning the key, then using her shoulder to bump the door open. “Over the years I’ve had the odd bottle of whiskey or vodka go missing, but nothing to lose sleep over. And I’m not talking about the recent thefts. I started locking up when the—”

“Recent thefts? This has happened before?”

The abrupt interruption had Sadie visibly recoiling, and Alana could see that look in her eyes, knowing she’d said the wrong thing, but unsure how to rebound.

Alana wasn’t about to let this slide. If he’d lied to her… “Noah said that what happened to me was an anomaly.”

“A what?” Sadie’s puzzled frown seemed genuine.

“Unusual,” she said, brimming with impatience. “That thefts were out of the ordinary in Blackfoot Falls.”

“That’s true enough.” She seemed to relax. “It’s outside of town where there’s been some trouble the last two months.” She flipped on switches that produced the typical murky bar lighting. “Things have gone missing from the surrounding ranches, sometimes small items, sometimes equipment. Noah is still hunting down the McAllisters’ horse trailer that was taken in August.” She tossed her magazine onto the bar, then pulled out one of the chairs at a table and sat down. “You ask me, it’s been too long and they’re never gonna find that trailer, which is a damn shame because that’s something those poor folks don’t need to lose.” Sadie gestured vaguely. “Put your bags down and take a load off.”

Alana took a seat across from Sadie, who’d pulled up her pant leg and was probing the area around a large white bandage. “Has it gotten worse?” Alana asked, noticing the red puffy skin.

“About the same.” She tugged her jeans down. “Noah didn’t lie to you. Everyone thinks the ranch thefts have to do with transients. In the past, the ranchers always had enough work to go around. This year they’ve been turning down men right and left. That don’t mean those men still don’t have mouths to feed.”

Alana breathed in deeply and glanced about at the dozen tables and mismatched chairs. In the far back were a pair of pool tables. The place was bigger than it looked from outside, but it was quite drab. “You said your business has improved since the Sundance opened?”