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“Okay,” Emmett said, considering her offer. “So we’re officially calling a truce so we can catch the Penis Picasso. Once we’ve done that, we’ll move forward, both being mindful of each other, and occasionally you will provide me with baked goods?”
“Yes,” Maddie said with the widest, most sincere smile he’d seen out of her yet.
Emmett held out his hand and they shook on it. The casual touch quickly turned more serious when her soft skin met his. It sent a surge up his arm, like a bolt of lightning, and suddenly his whole body was aware of how close they were. His gaze met hers for a moment, and he was pretty certain that she felt whatever it was, too.
At last, he pulled his hand away. “Okay,” he said, his voice shakier than he expected it to be. He needed to focus their discussion on something else. “What’s your plan to nab our neighborhood vandal?”
“Well, I’ve looked back at the reports in the paper and there doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to the graffiti. There’s been five incidents so far, and there’s not a pattern I can discern. He hit the Piggly Wiggly on a Wednesday night, the power company on a Tuesday. The car wash was on a Monday, and the water tower on Friday night. This one”—she gestured behind her—“popped up Thursday night. I say we start tonight and see if we notice anything peculiar.”
“Why tonight?”
“Because I’m off Sunday and the bar opens later, so it won’t throw our sleep off too badly.”
“That makes sense. What time?”
“I’m thinking maybe about two, after the bar closes. If you want to walk over to my place after you close up, we can take my car and drive around. I was thinking maybe we could park near the courthouse and watch for any sort of activity around the square. Most of the graffiti has been centered around the downtown area, so I think that’s our best bet.”
Emmett wasn’t so confident, but it was part of their agreement, so he’d give it a shot. Odds were they’d sit in the dark for a few hours, nothing would happen, and she’d give up. He wondered how much she’d care about the Penis Picasso when she wasn’t the one who had to clean up after him anymore.
“Sitting on the job!” a man’s voice shouted from behind them.
Emmett turned around in time to see Grant strolling out of the firehouse. His rusty red hound dog was on his heels. “We’re letting the paint remover process,” he explained.
Grant wasn’t paying any attention to Emmett’s protests. His eyes were focused on the pink pastry box sitting between them. “What is that?”
Maddie and Emmett both looked down at the box, then back up at each other. “Nothing,” they said in unison.
Emmett slowly slid the remainder of his sticky bun behind his back.
“Yeah, sure,” Grant said bitterly. “And you’ve got nothing in your hand, either, right?”
“Nope,” Emmett insisted.
Grant’s hound dog quickly rounded him and pressed his wet nose against Emmett’s hand. Emmett tried to protect his treat, but he was found out. The dog lay down beside him like he’d found prey and started baying incessantly until Emmett finally tossed the last few bites to him. He snatched it out of the air, swallowing it in one bite and sitting on the sidewalk with a happy grin on his face. “Traitor,” Emmett muttered.
“I was going to say the same thing.” Grant turned to his sister and pointed an accusing finger at Emmett. “You don’t even like him and he gets treats?”
“I would’ve brought something,” Maddie said, “if I’d known we were coming here.”
“You would’ve had to go a whole twenty feet out of your way to stop at the shop on the way over here. It’s understandable.”
Maddie sighed. “I’m serving court-ordered community service. I’m not about to take any detours that would get me in more trouble than I’m already in. If you want something so darn bad, go down to the shop and tell Gertie I said to let you have whatever you want.”
“Gertie Perkins?” Grant asked with a raised brow.
“Yes, why?”
He shook his head dismissively. “Nothing.”
Maddie frowned at her brother. “What? Tell me. Does she have a bad reputation I need to know about?”
“Not at all,” Grant assured her. “She’s a sweet kid by all accounts. I’m glad you gave her a job. It’s your reputation I’m worried about.”
Emmett watched the frown fade away from her face. “Why?” she asked.
“Because,” Grant said, “back in high school you would’ve made life a living hell for a girl like Gertie. She’s shy, quiet, doesn’t keep up with the latest fashions, and has a unique look about her. You and your hens would’ve pecked at her until she cried herself to sleep each night.”
Maddie opened her mouth to argue with her brother, but the words seemed to be stolen from her lips. Finally, she shut her mouth and sighed. “You’re probably right,” she admitted in a sad, defeated voice.
