Luck Be a Lady - Cathie Linz [96]
Connor had his reasons, and they were nobody’s business but his. No one expected him to spill his guts. That wasn’t the way his family worked. It certainly wasn’t the way a cop worked.
The bottom line was that his years working undercover had left a mark on him. A permanent mark. Connor absently rubbed his left shoulder where a jagged scar remained to remind him of a knife fight that had almost ended his life.
Connor’s older brother, Logan, had once told him that undercover cops were great liars. They had to be.
Connor had certainly been damn good at his job. So good that the lies had nearly consumed him.
His gaze traveled over the crowd. He knew most of the people he saw. The six Flannigan kids, all age eight and under, were present with their parents front and center. The kids had dripping ice-cream cones in their hands. The only exception was the baby still in the stroller, who was reaching for her sister’s cone, her face screwed up on the verge of a hissy fit.
Farther down, the older generation was well represented by a group from the Hopeful Meadows Senior Center. The women outnumbered the men by ten to one today.
Beside them was Flo Foxworth in her folding chair. Flo always reserved a curbside front row seat for every city event—from parades to concerts to fireworks. She worked in the post office and knew who subscribed to what magazines, although she didn’t share that knowledge with many. Not far behind her was Digger Diehl, the best plumber in town, who proudly wore his “Drain Surgeon” T-shirt with his denim overalls.
The mayor, Lyle Bedford, wore his customary red vest with his suit as he walked at the head of the parade with the Girl Scout troop holding the large Founders’ Day Parade banner in blue and gold. Looking at him now, you’d never know that the guy had had open-heart surgery six months ago. A lifetime resident of Hopeful, Lyle had been mayor for nearly two decades now, and his popularity showed no signs of decreasing. Lyle loved Hopeful and the town loved him back.
Behind him was a Brownie troop, and then a group of Boy Scouts. Then came one of the town’s shiny red fire trucks with Connor’s buddy Kyle “Sully” Sullivan at the wheel, followed by the fully decorated Chamber of Commerce float.
Next came the Hopeful High School Marching Band playing the theme song from Star Wars—playing it badly but with a lot of enthusiasm. The teenagers’ faces were already hot and sweaty from the above-usual May temperature, which was already in the low eighties. At least the predicted storms had held off for the parade.
The arrival of the perky cheerleaders waving their pom-poms was greeted with cheers from the men at the senior center—both of them. The football team was met with cheers from everyone for their impressive winning record last season.
Connor looked away to check the crowd. A second later he heard a murmuring among the parade watchers. Turning back to the parade he was surprised to see a rusty lime green VW Bug crawling along the parade route at about three miles an hour, blaring some rock song he didn’t know.
He expected to see some rebel teenager at the wheel, someone who’d pulled this stunt on a dare. Instead he saw a woman. Not a senior citizen who might have gotten confused, but a fairly young woman. Her smile was a little strained as she held up her hand and waved at the crowd as if she were royalty. Her face was flushed and she wore no ring on her left hand.
There were no markings on the car to indicate that it was part of any city organization or group.
Who is she?
Connor didn’t realize he’d said the words aloud until the woman beside him turned to answer him. “That’s our new librarian,” library director Roz Jorgen told him.
“Is she part of some library entry in the parade?” he asked.
“The teenage pages and members of Friends