Page 24 of No Offense

Molly was surprised to notice that Elijah’s own cheeks had darkened a shade or two, and that he suddenly appeared flustered. The two teens obviously knew each other. “I—I could ask the same thing of you.”

The girl pointed at the sheriff. “He’s my dad. He made me come.”

“Well.” Elijah couldn’t seem to meet the pretty girl’s gaze. It was the first time Molly had ever seen him at a loss for words. “That... that sounds unlikely.”

The girl’s jaw dropped. “What? What are you even—”

“The two of you knock it off.” John Hartwell didn’t look or sound as if he was in the mood to put up with any kind of shenanigans, teen or otherwise.

So Molly felt a little bit for Naomi when she stepped up to him, her right hand extended, and said, “Sheriff, great to see you, Naomi Hernandez, Miami Channel Seven News. You might remember me from when I was down here with my crew covering Hurricane Marilyn. I wonder if we could have a word with you about that baby you helped save yesterday.”

“I’m unable to comment at this time.” The words seemed to tumble as automatically from the sheriff’s lips as if he’d been saying them all day—and perhaps he had.

Molly knew she had nothing to feel guilty for—she hadn’t uttered a word about the girl she’d found in the new library, and fortunately, Meschelle hadn’t mentioned her in her story, so no one had asked.

But she still felt as if she’d betrayed the sheriff somehow.

“But, Sheriff,” Trevan said, putting on the charm, which was easy for him since he had as much of it as he had good looks. “It’s a real heartwarming story, and our viewers coulduse good news like that right now. Just a few quick words on camera, like maybe about how the baby’s doing now, and your search for the mother—”

“Absolutely not.” The sheriff looked as if he was longing to throw the news crew off the property, but he couldn’t, because the property belonged to the people. “When I have something to say on the record concerning the matter, I will let you know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my daughter and I were just leaving. Come on, Katie.”

He took his daughter by the arm and began to drag her from the premises, but she pulled back, reluctant to leave. “Da-aad,” she said.

“Katie.” The sheriff looked sterner than ever.

Molly watched in consternation. This was a disaster.

“Excuse me,” she said to Trevan and Naomi, as well as the cameraman and boom operator, whose names she’d forgotten. Then she darted after the sheriff and his daughter.

“I’m so sorry,” Molly said when she reached them. By that time they were by the reception desk, where Henry was busy pretending he wasn’t eavesdropping on their conversation. “But I swear to you, Sheriff, none of this was my idea. It was Meschelle—I mean, Ms. Davies. And I didn’t tell them a thing about the girl from this morning.”

He looked down at her with those hypnotically blue eyes. “I sure hope not.”

“I didn’t. I only want to help.”

Now his face creased with irritation. “Miss Montgomery, I’ve told you, I don’t—”

“—need my help, I know. And it’s Molly, please. Andeven though it may not look like it at the moment, I’m staying out of it.” She wasn’t going to mention how the only reason she’d ended up in this mess was that she’d been pumping a journalist for information about the case. “But there must be some reason you brought your daughter here.” She smiled at the girl in the cheerleading uniform to whom Elijah had been so rude. But then, Elijah was rude to everyone. “Hi, I’m Miss Molly. Is there something I can help you with?”

It was a relief when the sheriff’s daughter, keeping her gaze on Molly and well averted from Elijah, replied by reaching out her right hand and saying, “Hi, I’m Katie Hartwell, I don’t have a library card. My dad wanted me to get one. Also, he seems to think you have books or videos or something that teach dancing? Because he needs to learn how.”

As Molly shook Katie’s hand, she felt a rush of warm feelings toward the girl, but also toward her father—especially when she saw his face reddening at his daughter’s words, and he began to stammer, “That’s... that’s not... I mean, yes, about the library card, but not—”

Molly was used to patrons, particularly male patrons, expressing embarrassment over their reading requests, so she hurried to quell his anxiety, even though, internally, she was bursting with curiosity. Why did he need to learn how to dance? Was there a special occasion coming up? Could it be the Red Cross Ball?

But there wasn’t dancing at the Red Cross Ball. Both Joanne and Meschelle had already assured her of this. It wasmore of a dinner party, although there was a silent auction and games of chance to raise additional money for the charity. It was only called a ball because of the formal attire.

“I can help you with both those things,” Molly said, swallowing down her inquisitiveness, even as the voices inside her clamored,Is there a special lady in his life who is asking him to learn to dance? If so, who is this lady, and why isn’t she simply taking dance lessons with him? And why do I care?“We can set you up with a library card, Katie, and also help you find some nice books and videos—I think you mean DVDs?—on how to dance. What kind of dancing do you want to learn, Sheriff? Is this for a wedding or some other event you’ll be attending?”

There, that didn’t sound too nosy.

It was his daughter who answered.

“It’s for the Snappettes,” Katie said proudly. “I’m a Snappette, and my dad’s agreed to dance with us at the next mother-daughter performance because he and my mom are divorced and she lives in Miami. It’s sexist, anyway, not to let men perform. But first he needs to learn to dance, so that’s why we’re here.”

Molly wasn’t certain she’d heard all this correctly, because it sounded so incredible, so she glanced up at the sheriff for confirmation and knew the second her eyes met his, and she saw the sheepish look on his face, that it was all true.

“Yeah,” he said with a shrug. “I’m gonna be an honorary Snappette.”