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"Someone's made a mistake. There's no mention of the Bible."
"Then it wasn't in the car," Hatcher said.
"It was. I put it there myself."
"That was three years ago. People's memories are funny."
"There's nothing funny about my memory. I want to know what happened to that Bible!"
"I have no idea. It wasn't in the car or it would have been listed on this report." Hatcher regarded her with small, cold eyes. "Remember that you were under a lot of stress that day."
"This doesn't have anything to do with stress!" She wanted to scream at him. Instead, she took a deep breath to steady herself. "The chest that was in the car…" She pointed toward the report. "It ended up back at the house. How did that happen?"
"It was probably considered part of the household furnishings. The car was sold separately at auction."
"I put the chest and the Bible in the car at the same time. Someone in your department screwed up."
He didn't like that. "We'll increase patrols around the Glide cottage, Mrs. Snopes, but that won't change the way the town feels about having you back. Take my advice and find another place to live."
"She has as much right to live here as anyone else," Gabe said softly.
Hatcher pulled off his half glasses and tapped them on the desk. "I'm just stating the facts. You weren't around when Mrs. Snopes and her husband nearly tore this town apart. They didn't care who they took money from as long as they could feather their own nest. I know you've had a hard time lately, Gabe, and I can only guess you're not thinking straight. Otherwise, you'd be more careful in your choice of friends." The disrespectful way he regarded Rachel told her he believed Gabe was supporting her in exchange for sex. Since that was exactly what she'd proposed at one time, she supposed she shouldn't feel so offended.
"Maybe you'd better think about your family, Gabe," the chief went on. "I doubt your parents are going to be happy when they find out you've taken up with the
Widow Snopes."
Gabe's lips barely moved. "Her name is Stone, and if she says the Bible was in the car, then it was there."
But Odell Hatcher wouldn't give an inch. He was a man who believed in bureaucracy, and if his paperwork said that something didn't exist, then it didn't exist.
Later that day as Rachel finished painting the last of the playground equipment, she took comfort in the support Gabe had given her, even though he believed she was on a wild-goose chase. She glanced across the lot where he and an electrician were installing floodlights. He seemed to sense her eyes on him because he looked up.
Her body tensed with awareness. At the same time, she wondered what the rules were now that their relationship had shifted so drastically. For the first time, she considered how difficult it would be to make even the simplest arrangement to be together.
When evening arrived, he announced that he was driving her home. She had no car, and she hadn't been looking forward to the long walk up Heartache Mountain, so she accepted gratefully. She'd worked hard that day. Not that she minded. She was beginning to believe she cared more about the drive-in than Gabe. She was certainly more excited about the opening.
As he started the truck, the tension that had been sizzling between them all day intensified. She lowered the window, and then realized the air-conditioning was already running.
"Heat getting to you?" He gave her a faintly wolfish look, but she was nervous now, and she pretended not to see it.
"It's been warm today."
"Hot's more like it."
His gentle pressure on her thigh encouraged her to slide closer, but she turned away and raised the window instead. He removed his hand.
She didn't want him to think she was being coy, especially when she wanted him so badly, and she knew she had to tell him. "Gabe, I started my period this morning."
He turned his head and regarded her blankly.
"My period," she repeated. When he looked no more comprehending, she remembered his professional background. "I'm in heat."
He gave a bark of laughter. "I know what it means, Rachel. I just can't figure out why you think I'd give a damn."
She hated herself for flushing. "I don't believe I'd be comfortable…"
"Sweetheart, if you're serious about being a hussy, you need to get rid of your hang-ups."
