Luck Be a Lady - Cathie Linz [97]
“That VW may be small but it’s no book cart.”
Roz shrugged sheepishly. “I don’t know what to say.”
“No problem. I know what to say.”
Connor walked around the barrier and headed for the rowdy VW with the out-of-state license plates. “Stop your vehicle, ma’am,” he said.
“What?” she yelled.
“Turn down the music.”
“I can’t. It’s broken. It turns off and on by itself.”
“Green Day,” a teenager yelled from the sidewalk. “‘Boulevard of Broken Dreams.’ Awesome song.”
“Pull off at the next intersection,” Connor ordered the librarian, shouting so he could be heard over the music.
She flashed her brown eyes at him, startled by his bossiness perhaps. She shouldn’t be. He was a cop, after all. Giving orders went with the badge. And he was in uniform, complete with sunglasses, so there was no mistaking who he was.
Several things about her startled him. Her eyes, for one thing. They weren’t just brown, they were a light brown that reminded him of fine whiskey. Her shoulder-length brown hair was loose around her face.
He moved a barricade so she could turn off the parade route onto a side street.
Putting the car in park, she hopped out of the car before turning to face him. “If you can figure out how to stop the music, I’d appreciate it.”
He reached in and twisted the keys in the ignition, turning the car off.
“I should have thought of that. But then I’d be stuck in the middle of the parade and I didn’t want to do that.” Her smile was a little wobbly. “I wasn’t expecting a police escort.”
“I wasn’t expecting an unauthorized rusty VW to appear in the parade,” he said.
“Are you going to give me a ticket?”
The dread in her voice made him curious. Not that most folks were eager to get a ticket. But there was something more in her case.
“Since you’re new in town, no,” he said.
“What makes you think I’m new?”
“Aside from the out-of-state plates, you mean?” he said.
She nodded and nervously twisted a strand of her hair before tucking it behind her ear.
“Most local folks would know better than to crash a parade,” he said. “And Roz told me that you were the new librarian.”
“She saw me in the parade?”
He nodded, watching as a blush covered her face. She looked good all hot and bothered. “License and registration, please,” he said.
“Of course. Um, do I take them out of my wallet or just hand you the wallet?”
“Have you ever received a ticket before?”
“No, of course not!”
She seemed upset that he’d even ask such a question.
As she reached for her wallet he noticed the paleness around her left ring finger.
According to the New York driver’s license she handed him, her name was Marissa Johnson. She was born in 1983 and was five foot six.
“Well, Ms. Johnson, welcome to Hopeful. I’m Sheriff Connor Doyle.” He removed his sunglasses to give her one of his trademark reprimanding don’t-mess-with-me stares. Did he imagine her startled recoil just then? Hell, on the don’t-mess-with-me scale, the look he’d just given her barely rated a two. He could be much more intimidating without even breaking a sweat. “You really do need to pay attention to the barricades and other traffic signals in town.”
The signals he was getting from her abruptly changed from nervous uncertainty to downright irritation. He wondered what caused the transition. He’d let her off with a warning and even welcomed her to town. What more did she want? Why was she eyeing him as if he was rodent shit all of a sudden?
Connor’s expression remained impassive as he slid his sunglasses back on. “You could have caused an accident. Could have hit someone in the parade,” he said.
She remained silent. She was biting her lip, which strangely enough made him want to reach out and save her lush lower lip from such abuse.
He definitely had not imagined the change in her attitude. Maybe she had a thing against cops? Then why had she acted all sweet and polite in the beginning? No, he was willing to bet it wasn’t all cops, it was something about him in particular that got her all riled up.
Connor was used to