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Paisley’s eyes iced over, and I braced myself for whatever she’d spit back at me.
But she didn’t get a chance.
“Paisley, honey,” a sweet-as-sugar voice broke in as Gilly’s daughter, Rae, suddenly appeared at our sides, “I know we don’t have anythin’ in town like what you were doin’ for Laney and Riley, but there’s gotta be somethin’ else you can do with your time.”
Paisley’s fists clenched as she stepped back, but she didn’t reply.
“Wait, hey, I heard Candy Richards was hirin’ for a part-time bookkeeper at the Sweet Tooth.”
Paisley’d tried to hide it, but I caught her wince.
“Uh, nah, bad idea,” Jeffrey Pinkleton called out around a bite of his biscuits and gravy. “I heard they werethis closeto callin’ Adam—er, Officer Wilson—on her two days ago for tryin’ to get them to switch to some bookkeepin’ software. They were worried they wouldn’t know what to do with it once she finished puttin’ it all together for them, and they booted her out.”
And suddenly, the wince made sense.
“What about the community theatre?” Old Mrs. Randall asked from the other side of the diner, getting in on the action with an excited smile.
“They already have a director, sweetheart,” Mr. Randall replied as he patted his wife’s hand. “Can’t imagine how well that’d go over withhim.”
“Bucky’s Bait n’ Tackle?” Gilly asked.
Rae shot this idea down as she wrinkled her nose at her old man. “Nope, she wanted them to update their computer systems, too, but Bucky said he didn’t trust the government enough to go high-tech like that. He said he didn’t care if an accidental fire ate up all his books, he wasn’t openin’ himself up to a spyin’ situation.”
At that one, it seemed Paisley was about done biting her tongue. “Oh, come on. You guys have to admit it’s not unreasonable for the man to get a computer. Do you know how long it took for him to look up my order so I could make an exchange? His own handwritin’ was so sloppy he couldn’t even read it.”
“What were you exchangin’ at the tackle shop?” I asked in a low tone.
Paisley’s nostrils flared.
“You’ve got mighty good penmanship,” Gilly mused, glancing down his nose at the proposal Paisley must have given him for his diner. “Maybe you could work there as the receipt writer so it wouldn’t take so long in the future.”
I glanced at my watch. I often enjoyed how sleepy Charlotte Oaks could be when a call warranted a longer stay. It meant there weren’t any calls for service holding while I finished up the ones I was already on. But right then, I wished more than anything that we were in a big enough city that I wouldn’t have time for this nonsense.
In fact, if that were the case, there’d likely be more than eight officers in the whole department. If a call came in involving this woman, the odds would be slim that it’d fall on me to respond.
“Okay, y’all, let’s quit throwin’ up blind suggestions. It’s getting us nowhere,” Rae said, quieting everyone down as they took turns naming or shooting down ideas.
Paisley almost looked relieved, but then when Mrs. Randall tossed out another one like she just couldn’t help herself, that relief morphed into something that looked a whole like discomfort.
“What did you do for a livin’ before you were a music manager in Nashville?” Rae asked tenderly. “That couldn’t have been your first job, right?”
Paisley chewed her lip, and if this town was anything, it was attuned to the beginnings of something good. Something juicy. Something that would get tongues wagging and eyeballs bulging. They could see it, smell it, and taste it, and now... they all seemed to lean in so they could better hear it.
What could her job have been for her to stand here in silence, keeping us all on the edges of our seats?
“You on the run?” I asked, knowing it would bug her.
“Hilarious.”
“You weren’t one of those dancers, were ya? And I don’t mean like little Phoebe Wilson dances. I mean theadultkind.”
All eyes swiveled to Mrs. Randall—who was ninety years old if she were a day—before we turned back to Paisley for her answer.
She only frowned harder, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
“Well, go on, girl. What did you do?” someone prodded.
Paisley stood straighter and clasped her hands together. “I... Well, my family is in public service.”
