A knock at the front door cut her off. “That’s Lou,” Billy said, heading out. “Maybe we can get to the bottom of who left the door unlocked.”
While Evie wiped off the earring and reinserted it, Billy returned with Lou. He explained that she was the new principal and introduced her to the man he identified as a service aide. Lou, while not exactly the ideal image of first responder, was jovial and probably competent enough to deal with problems that could be investigated from a golf cart.
“Lou thinks one of the maintenance crew left the door unlocked,” Billy said. “I’m sure it was a mistake. It would have gone unnoticed if I hadn’t seen someone moving behind this corner window.”
“Yes, I’m sure it was.” She twirled the diamond stud, relieved to have it back where it belonged. Billy had removed his cap, revealing an abundance of wavy hair. When he ran his fingers through it, spiky strands fell onto his forehead nearly reaching his straight black eyebrows. Evie reaffirmed her first impression that he was decidedly well-proportioned at better than six feet. She didn’t doubt his ability to maintain the upper hand over most any law-breaker.
But Officer Muldoone wasn’t all brawn. His facial features gentled him in a way his build and that deep baritone voice never could. His eyes were a soft brown, the color of wet sand. His lips were full and framed by fine crescent-shaped creases. Something Lou said made him chuckle, and the low, rumbling sound seemed to vibrate into Evie’s chest. The tough cop had a nice laugh.
Lou flipped a notebook closed and stuck a pen in his pocket. “I’ve got some time, Billy. We’ll secure the building and then you go home to your family. I’ll write up the report.”
Go home to your family… Evie turned away from the men and fiddled with the zipper on her purse. She didn’t even know Billy Muldoone, so how could she be disappointed to learn he had a family? He appeared to be in his mid-thirties, and he was a decent-looking guy. Of course he would have a wife and kids. Most men did at his age. Most women at thirty-four did, too, but Evie had learned to live with being the exception.
Settling the strap of her purse over her shoulder, Evie headed for the door. “Thanks again, Billy,” she said, “and I’m sorry for any misunderstanding.”
“No problem.” He wiggled his cap into the groove around his hairline. “We’ll follow you to the back door and make sure the lock is secure.”
It was dark when Evie got into her car. She pulled out of her spot and took one last look at the men checking the mechanism on the door. Billy gave a wave and hollered at her to drive safely. She exited the parking lot in the direction of Gulfview Road and the Pink Ladies.
She planned to take a shower and ask her landlady about the nearest place to grab dinner. Then she’d call her father and spend the rest of the evening curled up in bed thinking about plans for Heron Point Elementary. Her mind raced with opportunities for the school year. That was a good thing. Because she couldn’t allow her mind to dwell on any possibilities as far as family man Billy Muldoone was concerned.
CHAPTER TWO
BILLY WATCHED THE Malibu turn the corner. Behind him, Lou rattled the doorknob. “She’s locked now,” he said.
The last splash of red from Evie’s taillights faded behind a stand of cedars. Still Billy stared at the road until Lou jostled his arm and asked if he’d heard him.
Billy focused his attention on his partner. “Sure I heard you.”
Lou smiled. “You could have fooled me. I figured the way you were watching that girl drive off, you’d forgotten about the school.”
“Woman, Lou,” he said. “I don’t think the new principal would appreciate being called a girl.”
“All business, is she?”
“Pretty much.”
Billy fell into step beside Lou when he started around the side of the building. “She doesn’t look like a principal,” Lou said. “At least not any I remember. I could be happy going back to school myself if the woman in charge of spankings looked like her.”
Lou was as committed to his forty-year marriage as anybody Billy had ever known, so he didn’t respond to the older man’s attempt at humor with more than a shake of his head. Then he rubbed the back of his neck and tried to dispel the notion of Evie Gaynor standing in front of the student body in that sexy little shirt-thing, her pink-painted toenails peeking out from an equally sexy pair of sandals. “She was kind of attractive, I guess,” he admitted.
Lou snickered. “Kind of? Come on, Billy, you can’t kid me.” He locked the front entrance, did his knob-jerking routine again, and faced Billy squarely. “You going to ask her out?”
“What? No. At least, I hadn’t thought about it. I don’t even know if she’s married.”
“She’s not. I heard Claire talking about her the other day. As far as I know, she’s come to Heron Point all alone. So maybe you should ask her out. New gals don’t come into town too often, at least with the intention of living here, and you’ve pretty much worn out your welcome with the ones who’ve been around a while.”
Billy frowned. “Thanks for pointing that out, but our artsy-type gallery owners haven’t proved a good match for a cop.” He pictured Evie again. Shoulder-length, light brown hair, green eyes the color of the Gulf at dawn, a smile that could be killer if she’d stop trying to hide it. “I don’t know,” he said. “My dating has changed a lot in the last few years.”
“Don’t think too long,” Lou said. “You don’t want your second meeting with the principal to be official school business.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Lou chuckled. “You know darned well. The first week of school won’t be marked off the calendar before you’re in that principal’s office, and it won’t be to ask her for a date.”
Billy sighed as he walked to the cruiser. Lou was right. The last principal had left Heron Point for a number of reasons, not the least of which was Billy’s daughter, Gemma Scarlett Muldoone.
THE NEXT MORNING Evie woke in a cloud of pink sheets and down-filled pink comforter. The air conditioner hummed across the room, and she cuddled deeper into the covers and let the soothing sound leisurely stir her to life.
She’d been assigned the first cottage in a row that stretched to the Gulf. Hester Poole, the owner of the Pink Ladies, had greeted Evie looking like a fairy-tale godmother, complete with floral apron and a crockery bowl full of sugary cookie dough. She’d said she’d saved the cottage nearest the office for Evie so she could come to Hester with any questions she might have about Heron Point and its citizens.
So far, the only question Evie had concerned her landlady’s obsession with pink. She wasn’t complaining though. The room was clean, comfortable and, if one ignored the Barbie-doll ambience, charming. She had nothing planned for the day. Perhaps she’d return to her office to unpack some personal possessions.
“Yoo-hoo, Miss Gaynor.”
She glanced at her travel clock: five past nine. Evie hadn’t slept this well or this long in ages. She swung her legs over the side of the mattress and reached for her robe. “Just a moment, Mrs. Poole.”
She opened the door to her landlady’s welcoming smile and a muffin nestled in a cloth napkin. “Just made these this morning,” Hester said. “Blueberry.”
Evie took the muffin. “Thanks. It smells delicious.”
“And that’s not all, dear,” Hester said, thrusting a vellum envelope at Evie’s chest. “This was just delivered for you.”
Evie’s name was scripted across the front. “Who is it from?”