Ernestine—the girl’s grandmother, Kit now realized—looked from Savannah to Miranda with a frown. “Who did you say?” she asked Miranda.
“He’s Christopher Pace. The novelist and Hollywood screenwriter. The guy who wrote all the ‘Code’ books and the three ‘Code’ movies. Oh, man, I can’t believe this! I just got home from seeing your latest movie. It was the best yet,” the girl told Kit with awestruck enthusiasm.
By now, everyone in the living room had gathered in the doorway to stare at Kit. And he was wishing a very large hole would open in the floor and swallow him up.
He felt Savannah’s gaze riveted to his face as he forced a smile for her daughter. Her daughter. Oh, hell.
“Thank you,” he said.
He heard the buzz of excited whispers begin just as the doorbell chimed.
Since everyone else seemed to be too busy gawking at him to pay attention to the buzzer, Kit was beginning to wonder if he was going to have to get the door. Savannah finally moved, taking care not to brush against Kit as she passed him. Kit turned his head to watch her, sending her yet another silent message of apology that she couldn’t seem to hear.
She opened the door to reveal a uniformed police officer standing on the doorstep, a sullen-looking teenage boy at his side.
“Sorry to bother you, Miz McBride, but we need to have a little talk,” the officer drawled.
Savannah looked immediately at the boy—who, Kit couldn’t help noticing with a sinking feeling, looked enough like Miranda to be her twin brother.
“Oh, Michael,” Savannah groaned. “What have you done?”
Kit had thought to surprise Savannah by showing up unannounced on her doorstep.
He’d had no idea how many surprises had been in store for him.
SAVANNAH WAS AFRAID to even wonder what else could happen to her that evening. She was still trying to deal with her shock at finding Kit—Christopher Pace!—on her doorstep. And now Michael had been officially escorted home from what was supposed to have been an innocent backyard camp-out.
The ladies of the gossip club were going to have a field day tomorrow, she thought, painfully aware of the many curious eyes watching her.
She could only deal with one crisis at a time. She glanced pleadingly at her mother, who immediately ushered her guests back into the living room. To Savannah’s mingled relief and dismay, Kit and Miranda followed the others, leaving Savannah alone with her son and Officer Henshaw.
“What happened?” she demanded.
Michael didn’t volunteer any information.
“Your boy was caught pushing over mailboxes on Bishop Road with a group of other kids,” the officer said. “We’ve explained to him that vandalism is a serious offense, and that he could also be charged with trespassing, criminal mischief and interfering with the mail. Which, of course, is a federal offense;” he added in a stern voice for the boy’s benefit.
“Bishop Road?” Savannah frown
ed at her son. “That’s on the other side of town. What in the world were you doing there when you knew you weren’t supposed to leave Nick Whitley’s yard?”
Michael shrugged. “All the guys were doing it. What was I supposed to do, sit in the backyard by myself?”
“You should have called me to come get you,” Savannah informed him sharply.
Henshaw looked at Savannah. “I’ve already had a long talk with him about how much trouble he can get into by just going along with the crowd. He knows we could have taken the whole group of them down to the station and booked them. Chief Powell and I are giving them one more chance, but if they get into trouble again, they’re going to have to deal with a juvenilecourt judge.”
Savannah knew that Henshaw was doing his best to scare Michael straight. She hoped it worked, and she certainly intended to do her part to make sure nothing like this ever happened again.
“By the time he’s no longer grounded for this incident, he may no longer be a juvenile,” she muttered, her gaze locked with Michael’s.
Officer Henshaw fought a smile. “Sorry again that I had to interrupt your party, Miz McBride. Michael, you need to apologize to your mama and your grandmama for embarrassing them like this, you hear? And don’t make me have to haul you home like this again, boy.”
Michael shook his head. “No, sir.”
Savannah wished her son had sounded just a bit more penitent. She still couldn’t believe he’d done this. It was the first time he’d ever deliberately disobeyed her.
As soon as she had closed the door behind Officer Henshaw, Savannah turned to Michael, who was watching her warily.