Falling for the Suspect (Book 3 in the Smalltown Superstars

3

Steve loaded the pails of paint into the bed of his white four-by-four Silverado. He had spent the morning grooming and exercising Liam’s prize studs. Josh Hinckley and Dave Willis were spending the afternoon teaching the new guy to breed the broodmares while Liam and Raven drove into Manna Berry to register for the upcoming rodeo.

Steve often took the afternoon off to assist his ageing parents with one thing or another in maintaining their farm. His days divided between working for Liam, his parents, and maintaining his property. He worked hard all day every day and when the night fell Steve, like all the other hard-working boys, liked to play.

He finished loading the brushes and rollers he would need to do the job and climbed into the driver's seat of his truck. The radio blaring and the window rolled down; Steve headed on over to Brook’s old trailer. She had only lived ten minutes down the road from him. Steve had not even needed to use the main road. He knew every bi-way and back road within the next two hundred kilometres. He knew every river, creek, and lake. Every hill, ditch, and ravine. There was not a tree he had not climbed or a cave he had not explored. Steve knew the land better than most. It was a part of him.

He pulled into the long dirt drive that led up to the forty-year-old trailer. Pulling to a slow stop in the driveway, he shut off his engine and stepped out of the truck. He had blocked in a small red Dodge Shadow telling him that someone was home. He walked back to the cargo bed and dropping the tailgate Steve grabbed hold of two pails of paint and began to unload. Steve carried the paint to the front door placing them on the porch.

The door opened, but no one was around. Steve knocked on the screen door hoping to alert Miss. Daniels to his arrival but she never appeared. Steve finished unloading leaving everything on the porch. He knocked again announcing himself and letting himself inside. He called out for Miss. Daniels wondering where she might be. Steve checked the kitchen and wandered down the hall toward the open bedroom door. The trailer was empty; no one was around. So where was the lovely Miss? Daniels?

Steve walked over to the back door and stepped outside. He looked over at the old tool shed and saw the door was open. He was sure that toolshed was usually locked. Steve walked over to the shed wondering why it was unlocked. Reaching the shed, he looked inside; nothing was missing or out of place. Steve took the padlock and chain in his hands. They looked as if someone had cut it off with bolt cutters. It was possible his father had unlocked it the last time he was out here and just forgot to close it. He was getting older and forgetful.

Steve replaced the chain and padlock. He then started walking toward the woodshed where he had seen something move. As he got closer, he noticed Taylor inspecting the foundation closely kicking the dirt around with her boots and rearranging the stacked wood. It was an odd thing to be doing. Frankly, Steve could not imagine why anyone would do something like that. So, he thought he might ask. “Did you lose something?” He asked startling her.

Taylor jumped and spun around so quickly she stumbled back into the stack of wood knocking some to the ground. She attempted to catch the tumbling wood but dropped more than half. “Oh Mr. Giles, hello.” She smiled breathlessly. “You startled me. I was looking around and…” She paused and looked back at the area she had been concentrating so hard on. “I thought I saw a mouse.”

“So, you tried to stomp on it?” He asked trying to understand her.

“Yes, exactly.” She smiled placing the wood in her arms back on top of the pile.

Steve raised a golden brow curiously. She was lying, he could tell, but he did not know why, nor did he particularly care why. “I came to paint.” He reminded her.

“Yeah, come on in,” Taylor said heading back into the trailer. Steve followed her inside his gaze instinctively drifting to her firm bottom beneath those tight black jeans. She had an incredible body. He could not help but wonder if her mother had looked similar. Steve started hauling his supplies into the trailer and began by laying out his drop cloths to protect the carpet.

“Would you like some help?” Taylor offered, as she perched herself on the arm of the sofa watching him.

“I got it,” Steve assured her peeling off the lid to one of the cans. He picked up a stir stick and began to stir the paint to be sure the colour was even. He looked at the wall and wondered if he should use a primer first. Perhaps it would be fine if he just put up two coats.

Taylor stood up and strolled past him with a questioning smile. She ran her fingers over the patches in the wall. “What exactly happened here?” She asked her bright eyes on him.

Steve smirked with a bit of embarrassment. He hung his head sheepishly. “I’m ashamed to admit that is my fault.”

Taylor grinned and c****d her head curiously. “Your fault?”

Steve poured the paint into the tray and dipped the roller into the paint. “Well, this used to be my little sister’s place. She was seeing this guy who was just really bad news. I mean a notorious womanizer, with the absolute worse reputation. I warned him to stay away from her, my Daddy warned him to stay away from her, hell his own family warned him to stay away from her; neither of them listened. He kept seeing her, and she kept bringing him around. He was the absolute worse guy to get involved with, so one night in a tantrum I chased him through the trailer with a shotgun filling the walls with buckshot.” He chuckled. “Chased him right out the bedroom window.”

“Oh my, are you serious?” Taylor asked laughing. “Did you hit him?”

“No, he moved surprisingly quickly for a city slicker.” Steve laughed taking the roller to the wall.

“I bet he stopped seeing your sister then.” She commented.

“You would think so, but no, instead he married her.” He laughed. Not exactly the desired effect he had been going for the night he went after Dawson, but his sister was happy, and he supposed when all was said and done that was all that mattered.

“Oh.” She laughed. “Shotgun wedding?”

Steve laughed, Taylor had a pretty good sense of humour; he liked that in a woman. “No, their choice. They fell in love; don’t that beat all.”

Taylor looked him in the eye and offered him a flirtatious smile. “You don’t believe in love?”

“No, I believe in love. I just never believed those two could ever do it. You would understand what I meant if you had ever met either one of them.” He chuckled as he rolled the paint across the wall. “God was working miracles I tell you what.” Taylor picked up another roller dipping it into the paint tray and placed it on the wall. “You don’t have too-”

She shrugged and rolled the paint across the wall. “I have nothing better to do right now anyway.”

She looked bored, stuck here all day by herself in a town where she knew no one, thousands of miles away from her family and friends. He supposed he could let her help. “No luck finding work for yourself?” He asked.

“No, not really.” She said. “I have been trying to get us settled in.” She sighed rolling the paint over the wall.

“Just watching television and unpacking?’

“The television doesn’t work.” Taylor sighed.

“So, you must be bored.” He teased.

“No.” She said shaking her head without looking at him. He raised a skeptical brow, and she blushed. “Maybe a little.” She confessed. “What do you guys do around here for fun?”

Steve dipped the roller in the paint once more and moved farther down the wall. “Well if you like the nightlife there is always the Iron Horse outside Manna Berry. It is a popular bar. Get a drink, live music and dancing. There are plenty of lakes and rivers around for fishing and swimming if you are into that sort of thing. Then, of course, there is the church picnic on Sundays. The rodeo’s coming up in three weeks. That is a big deal around here. It is complete with fair; you will enjoy it.”

“What about that pub in town?” She asked curiously. “I thought I saw one when we were driving to church.”

“Margie’s Bar.” He knew the place it was ok but not too many locals hung out there it was more of a truck stop. “It is ok for a beer I suppose. Not a hot spot if you are looking for fun.” He explained.

“Is it true what the Gas and Go guy says?” She whispered as if there was some great secret. “That they found a body hanging from the street light just outside the bar one day?”

The memory of Sam Griffin’s death came flooding back. Steve could still see the lowlife swinging from the red light high above his head. He remembered that morning well. Remembered coming across the gossiping crowd everyone speculating as to how he got there and who did it. He remembered the suspicious glances that came his way that morning. He stared up at that body feeling nothing. He might have well had been looking at a cow hug up at the butchers for all the bastard meant. Sam deserved his fate a hundred times over.

“Yeah.” He confirmed the gossip.

“Were you there?” She asked with great interest.

“Yeah.” He admitted. “Me and half the town.”

She dipped her roller in the paint once more. “It must have been disturbing to see a dead body of someone you knew.” She said placing the roller to the wall again.

“Not at all, he was a real creep. Everybody hated him; I’m more surprised someone didn’t think to kill him sooner.”

“Wow, you didn’t like the guy.” She observed. That was an understatement.

***

Taylor was sure she had a strong suspect in Steve. He admitted to a history of going to fanatical ends in a fit over his sister. He also made no secret of his intense dislike for the man, nor his approval of vigilante justice. At this moment Steve was at the top of Taylor’s suspect list. They chatted as they painted the hall and moved down into the bedroom.

Taylor helped Steve cover the furniture and protect the carpet with drop cloths. She did not dare push the subject any further out of fear of risking his suspicion. Instead, she settled for idle chit-chat, and as they painted the bedroom, she learnt that Steve was a friendly helpful sort. He certainly did not seem the type to have the explosive, violent temper one expects from a man bent on murder.

She caught herself more than once watching him and smiling. He had a boyish charm about him, with rugged good looks and a cheeky smile. She found herself wondering more than once what it might have been like if they had met under different circumstances. Steve seemed like the playful sort, easy going and relaxed.

“Do you and your father know anyone out here?” Steve asked out of the blue.

“No.” She lied taking a small brush to the window frame.

“You must get lonely.” He commented softly, watching her with a tender look in his dark eyes.

“Not really.” She managed to look away from him. The look in his eyes made her belly flutter. It was ridiculous. She had to get back on track. “What do you do for fun?” She asked hoping to learn more about him personally. There could be a clue to discover. A location he might have hidden something. New evidence to discover, something that confirmed his guilt or exonerated him. Something that possibly implicated another. Gaining his trust was important.

“Me personally?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“I like to go fishing with the boys,” Steve said placing the used roller into the paint tray. “We go once every month and camp out for the weekend. I also like to go riding, and I hit the Iron Horse fairly often to kick up my boots and do a little dancing.” He grinned.

Taylor was surprised. “You dance?”

“Sure do.” He grinned. “Do you like to go dancing?” Steve asked curiously.

Taylor tried to picture herself dancing and she almost burst out laughing, she could not picture herself shaking it on the dance floor all rigid and lacking rhythm, looking as if she were suffering a seizer of some sort. “No, I don’t dance.” She snickered at the amusing thought.

“You don’t like to dance? Or you just never tried?” He queried, wiping the paint smudges from his hands onto a rag he had hanging from his belt.

“Me?” She chuckled awkwardly. “No, I don’t know how to dance.” She confessed. It was not something she had ever learned to do with three older brothers and a widower father. Straight from high school and on to the force she had not had much time for such socializing as dancing.

Now he was the one that looked surprised. “I thought all women knew how to dance.” He said.

“Well, I don’t.”

“Well, now that is a shame,” Steve said with a smooth smile that she was sure melted many hearts. “I’m sure you could if you tried, most women have a natural rhythm about them,” Steve said moving toward her taking the paintbrush from her hand. He placed it in the paint tray and took the rag in one hand. With the other hand, he gently held her hands in his and wiped the wet paint from her fingers. She could feel the heat like fire flowing from his fingertips into her skin. Her gaze locked with his and for a moment Taylor thought she could see the fire in his dark eyes.

“What are you doing?” She asked slowly pulling her hands away.

“I’m going to teach you to dance, and I don’t want paint on my shirt,” Steve said placing his hand on her hip and drawing her close. He took her left hand in his right, and he guided her hand to his shoulder. Taylor then felt his left hand slide around her waist and settle at the small of her back. He held her inches from his body, and she found herself admiring his fantastic male form. Lean and hard beneath her hand. “This is the two-step, it is the easiest dance to do. Fundamentally it is exactly as its name, two steps. Once you get the hang of it, you can jazz it up with spins and other moves, but for teachings, we will start with the basics.” He said. “You step back when I step forward. It is two quick steps followed by two slow and so on.”

“Ok,” Taylor said looking down to see where he was putting his feet.

“Don’t look down,” Steve instructed. “Look at me.”

Taylor looked up their gazes meeting once more as he took the first step. She could feel the pressure from his hand at the small of her back as he guided her around the small bedroom. “Slow-slow-quick-quick-slow-slow… now you got it.” He smiled as she caught on to the easy rhythm of the dance. Taylor had to admit it was fun; it would probably be far more enjoyable to music. “You are a natural.” He commented and took her hand Steve twirled her around and swung Taylor back into his arms.

Taylor was having so much fun she hardly realized how close they had gotten to the foot of the bed. When Steve spun her around again, her foot caught on the foot of the bed, and she stumbled losing her balance. She fell forward and into Steve, her knee banging against his. Steve’s arms closed around Taylor catching her from falling. Grateful for his assistance Taylor looked up and offered him a thankful smile, a smile that immediately faded when her eyes met his. There was intense heat, a desire even she could recognize.

Taylor suddenly became intensely aware of his strong arms around her. How close he held her. The way he looked at her, and the way her stomach fluttered with excitement. Her gaze settled on his lips wondering if he might try to kiss her. “Well now, what is this?” John’s voice startled them both. Taylor had been so wrapped up at the moment she had not heard John come in. He was standing in the bedroom doorway covered in dried mud and dirt. He looked a wreck and utterly exhausted. John eyed them both suspiciously.

Steve set Taylor on her feet and released her taking a step back. “This is not what it looks like,” Steve promised John.

“Really,” John said coming into the room, “because it looks like while I’m at work you are embracing my daughter in the bedroom.”

“We were painting, and I tripped,” Taylor said not thinking it wise to say they were dancing. She did not understand why John was acting so jealous. “He was just helping me.”

“I see.”

Steve quickly began to clean up the paint and his drop cloths to leave. “I should go. I’m done here anyway.” He said gathering up as much as he could carry. Taylor helped to pick up what he could not.

“You do not have to rush off.” She said as they slipped past John and she followed Steve down the hall and out to his truck.

Steve placed his load into the cargo bed of his truck making sure the lids of the paint cans were secure. “No, I really should.” He said looking back at the house. Taylor looked back and saw John standing in the doorway watching them. “Besides I got other things I got to do,” Steve said offering her a smile. “I didn’t mean to get you into trouble.”

She grinned. “I’m sure Dad will understand, don’t worry about it. Thank you for painting.”

“If you need anything else just let me know. I do all the repairs for my father.” He paused and gave a little chuckle. “He says he’ll do them, but I always end up doing them so you may as well just skip the middleman.”

“Alright, you have a good evening Mr. Giles.” She said offering her hand.

“Please, it is Steve.” He insisted shaking her hand.

“Alright then, goodbye Steve.” She watched as he climbed into his truck and drove off. Taylor waved as Steve backed up. As soon as he was out of sight, she headed back to the house to deal with John. “What is with the harsh reaction?” She asked coming up the porch steps. John was all smiles now that Steve was gone.

“Just playing the part. How else is a father to react when he comes home and catches his daughter in a compromising position?” John asked as they went back inside. “He may have grown suspicious if I wasn’t suspicious.” He said sitting down on the sofa and kicking off his dirty boots. “God, I ache all over.”

“What did you learn?” She asked sitting down in the armchair adjacent to the sofa.

John dropped his head back against the sofa. “I learnt that ranching is hard, that mucking a stall stinks, and that breeding a horse is not only harder than you would think but also disgusting.” He said turning his eyes to her. “You don’t want to know where my hands have been.” He shivered with disgust at the very memory.

Taylor smirked with amusement. “So, you like your new job?” She teased. “But really what did you find out?”

“I found out that when you work, they keep you too bloody busy to search the grounds. However, the guys love to talk s**t. You know the way guys usually get with trash talk and bullshit.”

“So you learnt nothing?” Taylor said.

“Not so.” He said, peeling off his filthy t-shirt and cringing at the smell. “God, I need a shower.”

“John, focus.”

“Ok anyway, when you talk trash with the guys you learn a little about them and from what I can tell Josh doesn’t have a violent bone in his body. I don’t think he could have done Griffin. When I mentioned the girl in casual conversation, I learnt that Josh and she didn’t end on a cheerful note. As much as he might like her as a person, I don’t think he is going to kill for her.”

“And Archer?” She asked.

“Didn’t get much chance to talk to him, he wasn’t around, but the guys were telling me tales about the two brothers and laughing it up. From what I can gather the younger one, the husband, hasn’t been in a fight in his life, outside sibling tiffs until his altercation with the Griffin boys. He might have beaten them for what they did, but then he left them alive. I don’t know I’m just not seeing it. It is a far cry from nothing to calculated first-degree murder. The older one though, Liam, he is another story.”

“You think he is a viable suspect?” She asked. “Better than the husband?”

“Well, I don’t know about a suspect. From what I have learnt the man has a history of resorting to violence to settle disputes. Bar fights and such; when he caught his brother sleeping with his first wife the man took a bat to him and busted his ribs. That was to the family. I would hate to see what he would do to someone he hated, and it is no secret how they all felt about Sam Griffin.”

Made sense, except for one thing. It was not Archer’s wife, nor was Brook his sister, what was his motivation? “Why him though? What was his motivation? It wasn’t like she meant anything to him, why kill for her?”

“Maybe he didn’t do it for her. Maybe he did it for his brother, or for his best friend. They say that Archer and Giles are tight and have been all their lives, had each other’s backs in any dispute. Why not kill for him?” John suggested.

“I don’t know it doesn’t hold a lot of water it would be hard to prove.” She said.

“What did you find while you were here?” John asked.

“Not a bloody thing,” Taylor said with frustration. “I looked around the area and found nothing suspicious. Some disturbed dirt under the woodshed but I suspect it is an animal hole. I was going to check the surrounding woods but then Giles showed up and scared the hell out of me.” She said. “He came to paint the walls so I thought I would help and talk to him, I’ll see what I could dig up.”

“And?” He asked expectedly.

“Well, these holes in the wall are his fault. He says he chased his sister’s boyfriend through the trailer and out the window with a shotgun, and not just for show; he was taking shots at him to blow all these holes in the wall. Then when I mentioned the murder, he was eager to praise the killer. He agrees with and openly supports the idea of vigilante justice. Plus, he is fanatical about his sister.”

John thought over what she had just said. “You are right Giles is the better suspect. It is possible that Giles and Archer did it together.” John suggested. “Or that Archer knows something and is covering for Giles.”

“We need to focus on Giles.” She agreed.

“He is a suspicious one though,” John said shaking his head. “It is not going to be easy. He never comes out and says it, but I can tell from the way he carries himself, and the way he acts around me. I don’t think he likes me.” That would pose a problem. If John could not get close enough to Steve at work to get him to open up, they might very well get nothing on him. She stared at him wondering why John was grinning like an i***t at her. “He likes you though… doesn’t he?” Taylor understood what he was implying. She had noticed a spark between them, but she was not so sure it would be as easy as John believed to seduce Steve Giles. “I think you got the best chance at getting close to him. Just try to remember that he is a suspected murder.” John pointed out.

John had a point, unfortunately, more than one. It very well might be the only way to get what they needed out of him. They needed to get closer to Steve, and she might very well be the only one that could. “Well, just how am I going to go about doing this?”

John shrugged. “I’m sure you have seduced a man before.” He said standing up. “I got to shower and get the stink of a horse off me,” John said heading toward the washroom to bathe. “Just remember, he could be a killer, so be careful.”

“Thanks for the pearls of wisdom,” Taylor called after him. Seducing a possible killer, well her life was nothing if not exciting.

***

Steve sat on the porch, a beer in hand and lost in thought. He hadn’t heard anything Liam had been saying until he snapped his fingers in Steve’s face to gain his attention. “Where is your head?” Liam demanded.

“I was just thinking.” He said taking a sip.

“So that is what that smoke was?” Liam teased.

“Ha-ha.”

“What has got you all caught up?”

“I was thinking about Taylor,” Steve confessed noting the disapproving look on Liam’s face.

“John’s Taylor?”

“Yeah.”

“No,” Liam shook his head, “You can’t be messing with that girl.” He didn’t see why not. She was just a girl like any other. “For one, you work with her father. You screwing around with that girl is only going to cause problems, and I got enough to deal with Maggie I don’t need to be dealing with John too.”

Steve cringed at Maggie’s name. She certainly had turned out to be a nightmare for everyone involved. As much as it killed him, Liam had a point. No good could come from messing around with a co-worker’s daughter, no matter how hot she was. No, he would have to keep it in his pants when it came to Taylor.