Dead by Midnight - Beverly Barton [154]
“Thanks.” Mike glanced from Jack to Patsy. “I want to take Lorie home as soon as possible. It’s just a matter of deciding on the best route—through the back door or front door. Either way, we’re going to have to maneuver her safely away from the reporters and the WCM.”
“Front door,” Lorie said. “I want to go out the front way, flip Miss Culp a bird as I pass by, and watch her faint dead away.”
“I’m glad you find this so all-fired amusing.” Mike’s brow wrinkled in a censoring frown. “You’ve got this town riled up. People are taking sides, pro-Lorie and anti-Lorie. My mother and my kids have to defend me to their friends and acquaintances because I’m personally protecting you. Keeping a deputy around the clock at your house is costing the county money it doesn’t have. And this little scene today is only adding fuel to the burn-Lorie-Hammonds-at-the-stake frenzy the WCM has stirred up.”
Lorie felt as if Mike had slapped her.
“I did not ask you to personally protect me. And I never asked for around-the-clock protection from the sheriff’s department.” Lorie barely managed to keep her voice calm. What she really wanted to do was scream at Mike. “Don’t do me any favors, Sheriff Birkett!” She turned to Jack. “I’d appreciate it if you’d take me home. And if no one else has anything to say, I’m getting my purse and going through the front door and out onto the sidewalk to meet the press and those uptight old bags. They’re just jealous because I look so damn good in those Playboy photos and they know that nobody would ever want to see any of them naked.”
“I’ll take you home.” Mike grabbed her arm.
She jerked away, planted her hands on her hips and yelled, “Don’t touch me, damn you, Mike Birkett!”
“Lorie.” Patsy said her name softly. “As the county sheriff, Mike is under a great deal of pressure trying to protect you and at the same time pacify his constituents. He’s just terribly frustrated. I don’t think he meant what he said as a condemnation. He’s not blaming you. He was simply stating the facts.”
Lorie crossed her arms over her chest and refused to look at anyone in the room.
“How about a compromise?” Jack said. “Let Mike and me take you out of here through the front door and straight to my patrol car and then I’ll drive you home. And you won’t shoot Miss Culp a bird.”
“That sounds like a reasonable plan,” Patsy said.
“If you’d like, I’ll go home with you,” Cathy offered.
When Lorie was angry and hurt the way she was now, she tended not to think straight. Cathy had been her best friend since they were kids and Patsy had become a dear friend during the past few years. She needed to listen to them because they wanted what was best for her.
“No, you stay here and close up shop,” Lorie told Cathy. “Once I’m gone, the WCM will leave and the reporters will no doubt follow me home.” She turned to Jack. “You can take me out of here through the front door. And I promise to behave myself.”
“I’ll need Mike’s help,” Jack told her.
She nodded and then glanced at Mike. “I’d appreciate it if you could post a deputy outside my house until I can hire another Powell agent. I’m sure Maleah can get someone down here in the morning.”
“There’s no need to call Maleah and hire another agent,” Mike said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Before Lorie could reply, Jack intervened. “For now, let’s just get you to my car and then home. You and Mike can work out everything else later.”
“He’s right,” Cathy told Lorie. “Please, do what Jack says.”
“Okay.” Lorie stiffened her spine, determined to hold her head high as she faced the reporters and the WCM witches.
Jack and Mike flanked Lorie as she picked up her purse and marched out of the storeroom, through the shop and to the front door. When Mike opened the door, three deputies moved in to stop the reporters from