“I won’t be going on any hot dates for a while.” His grin deepened a dimple in his cheek. “But I was hoping you’d at least let me treat you to Buckaroo’s coffee and pie.”
A prudent woman would have made her excuses, thanked him, and driven away, Maggie told herself. Travis Morgan was heartbreak on the hoof. But she had an agenda, and this was the perfect opening to carry it out. Learning about Travis’s past, and his relationship with his father, could provide the key to healing the rift between them and giving her town its Christmas Santa.
“Thanks, I’d enjoy that.” She glanced at his loaded pickup. “We can take my car. Nobody will bother your truck here. What are you doing with all that?”
“Upgrading my house. A friend is coming to stay with me. He’s going to need a bedroom.”
“Well, I hope I get to meet him.” This was a new development. Dared she hope the newcomer would help her solve her problem?
“Let’s go.” She offered him the keys. “Want to drive?”
“Sure. It’s been a while since I’ve driven one of these babies.” He walked around the car to let her in the passenger side, then returned to slide into the driver’s seat and turn the key in the ignition. The powerful engine purred to life.
“Runs smooth for an older car,” he commented as they headed out of the parking lot. “I can tell it’s had good care.”
“This was my father’s car,” Maggie said. “It was his baby. I try to keep it up the way he’d have wanted me to.”
“Are you sure he wouldn’t mind me driving it?”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure a man with your experience can drive anything on the road.”
“My experience?” He glanced at her, his eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
Maggie could have bitten her tongue, but it was too late to take back what she’d just said. Now her only recourse was honesty. “I know about your having been a patrolman,” she said. “And I know you went to prison.”
His jaw tightened, but he kept driving toward Main Street. “How did you find out?”
“I asked the sheriff. He told me. As mayor, it’s my business to know about the people in this town.”
“Is it, Mayor Maggie?” The question was laced with irony.
“Don’t worry, I haven’t told anybody, and I don’t intend to.” Maggie’s voice betrayed her unease. This was not going the way she’d hoped.
“Did the sheriff tell you what happened?”
“A little, but I had the impression he didn’t know the whole story.”
“He knows.”
Maggie didn’t answer. There was nothing she could say that would ease the situation.
Travis stopped outside the restaurant but made no move to get out of the car. “Well, are you waiting for me to tell you?” he asked.
“Only if you want to.”
He exhaled, gazing through the windshield at the faded leaves that blew along the sidewalk. The wind had picked up, blowing a bank of heavy clouds across the sun.
“It was after midnight, and I was working,” he said. “We’d gotten an alert earlier about a kidnapping—a twelve-year-old girl. Her friend said she’d been grabbed by a stranger in the mall parking lot and thrown into the trunk of a dark blue Toyota Camry. We had a partial on the plate—the first three digits. The friend hadn’t been sure about the rest.
“I was wrapping up a long shift, headed home on the freeway, dog tired, when a car passed me going twenty miles over the speed limit. Blue Camry, the plate matched what we’d been told. I turned on my lights and siren and pulled it over. The driver looked about twenty, like maybe a college kid. He seemed nervous. I took his license and registration, and then I asked him to open the trunk latch. He started the car and took off.
“All I could think of was that little girl, locked in the trunk and headed for God knows what kind of hell. I drew my pistol and fired through the back window. The car skidded off the road, into a ditch. He was dead by the time I got to him, shot through the head. When I opened the trunk, there was nothing in it but some OxyContin and a couple bags of weed.”
“And the little girl?” Maggie asked.
“She showed up safe. It turned out she and her friend had made up the whole kidnapping thing.” Travis shook his head. “The boy’s family had money and influence. They made sure I paid for my mistake. Three years for manslaughter, and I’ll never work in law enforcement again.”
“That’s awful,” Maggie said. “So unfair. I’m sorry.”