Reflection Point

chapter FOUR





The Eternity Springs Chamber of Commerce planning committee met in a conference room on the second floor of the Tourist Information Center, a pleasant two-and-a-half-block walk for Savannah. After an afternoon shower, the clouds had cleared away and sunshine sparkled on the rainwater that dripped from rooftops and splattered into thirsty flower boxes. The town certainly had its flowers on, she observed. In addition to lush hanging baskets and bulging window boxes, huge pots of red geraniums, purple alliums, and yellow lilies lined the street. The cheerful sight made her smile.

Savannah needed a smile. She was nervous. This would be her first appearance at anything halfway official in Eternity Springs, and she wanted to make a good impression. Easier said than done, since the majority of her experience lay at the other end of the spectrum, and her role models for making a good impression were limited.

Reinventing oneself wasn’t easy. Especially since the more she got to know the people of Eternity Springs, the more she worried that they’d find out about her past.

Savannah was crossing Second Street when she heard someone call her name. She turned to see perky, petite Sarah Murphy and a redheaded woman she didn’t know crossing Spruce Street toward her. She plastered on a smile. “Hello.”

“Hi, Savannah,” Sarah replied. “Sage told me you might be coming to tonight’s meeting. I’m so glad to have another sucker …” She flashed a grin and finished, “Um … I mean, volunteer, to help. Have you met Cat Davenport?” She gestured toward her companion.

“No, I haven’t had the pleasure.”

“In that case, let me introduce you to the owner of our weekly newspaper, Eternity Times. Cat also helps her husband, Jack, oversee the children’s charity that is building the new summer camp up on Murphy Mountain. Cat, Savannah Moore makes the most wonderful soaps and lotions.”

“It’s so nice to meet you.” Cat smiled brightly as she shook Savannah’s hand. “Ali Timberlake put your lavender lotion in the ladies’ room at her restaurant. It’s wonderful.”

She noticed the lotion? Savannah was secretly thrilled. “Thank you.”

“Cat is a relative newcomer to Eternity Springs, too,” Sarah said. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she added, “Last year she was kidnapped and imprisoned in a luxury estate outside town.”

“Oh, no,” Savannah said, her eyes widening even as Cat Davenport smirked.

“By her ex-husband,” Sarah added. “Whom she remarried in March.”

Savannah fumbled for something to say, eventually settling on, “That sounds like quite a story.”

“At times I thought it might have a homicide subplot,” Cat said dryly. “He was careful to keep his guns away from me, thank goodness.”

“I see.” Savannah smiled tightly. Where she came from, homicide and guns were not a joking matter.

Talk moved to general subjects as they completed their walk to the tourist center. There, Savannah made a stop in the ladies’ room while Sarah and Cat went on upstairs. When she joined them in the conference room, she saw the tables arranged in a square with the majority of the seats taken. Sarah waved, then indicated she’d saved Savannah a seat next to her.

The mayor sat at the table on her left at the center. Savannah turned to her right and noticed her favorite handyman and high school English and history teacher, Jim Brand. She smiled and waved hello to the handsome older man. He winked back. The mayor picked up his gavel and knocked it on the table just as two newcomers stepped into the room and took seats directly opposite Savannah.

Immediately her spine stiffened.

Having Zach Turner seated directly across from her, light glinting off the sheriff’s badge pinned to a khaki uniform shirt, was bad enough, but the woman seated at his right caused a visceral negative reaction within her so strong that nausea churned in Savannah’s stomach.

The woman was older—mid- to late sixties, she’d guess. Dressed in sky-blue capri pants and a white blouse, she had cheery blue eyes and a friendly smile. Silver earrings shaped like wings dangled from her ears.

She could have been Francine Vaughn’s twin.

The fact that she traveled with a sheriff only made the resemblance more disturbing. Kyle was a cop, not a sheriff, but as far as Savannah was concerned, a badge was a badge.

Or, speaking metaphorically, a baseball bat. A knife to the heart.

Mayor Townsend called the meeting to order. “We have a good turnout tonight. Thank you all for showing up. Celeste, I didn’t think you’d be back from your trip for another week.”

Francine Vaughn’s doppelgänger spoke. “I came home early. I’d been away from Angel’s Rest for too long and I’d become a little homesick.”

Celeste. Angel’s Rest. This must be the famous Celeste Blessing. The woman who, according to everyone Savannah had met here in town, was considered to be the beloved angel of Eternity Springs.

Just like Francine.

Francine had fooled everyone. Especially Grams. Rattled, Savannah reached for the water glass sitting in front of her and missed, bumping it. Water sloshed and splashed onto the table. While Savannah stared stupidly at the mess, Sarah took a tissue from her bag and wiped it up.

She leaned over and whispered, “No need to be nervous, Savannah.”

The mayor continued. “We’ll, we’re glad to have you back, Celeste. Town just isn’t the same without you.”

Oh, wow. They even fawn over her the same way people did Francine.

The mayor continued. “We have a new member of the Chamber I want to recognize. For those of you who haven’t met her yet, Savannah Moore is our newest resident and merchant. She is working to open a gift shop in the old Golightly place. She wants to help us clean up our town with her specialty soaps and lotions. Welcome to Eternity Springs and the Chamber of Commerce, Savannah.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly as those seated around the conference tables broke out in spontaneous applause.

The sheriff kept his hands beneath the table, and so she couldn’t tell if he participated or not.

Mayor Townsend continued. “Now, on to business. I promised Zach we’d keep this meeting short, so I plan to rip right through my list.”

Savannah made a point to keep her gaze on the mayor and away from the man seated across from her. That didn’t stop her from feeling the weight of the sheriff’s gaze—make that the sheriff’s cold, flat, faintly accusatory glare—upon her. Just why does he have a stick up his butt toward me, anyway? I haven’t so much as crossed paths with him in a week.

Unless … has he checked up on me?

No, why would he do that? She’d given him no reason to do so. Why, she’d been sweet as sugarcane to the man.

“LaNelle, would you like to update us on plans for this year’s quilt festival?” the mayor asked.

The owner of the town’s needlework shop, LaNelle Harrison, flipped open a manila folder. “Certainly. It’s almost hard to believe, and it makes me worry about where we are going to put everyone, but registrations are running twenty-five percent above this time last year.”

Jim Brand asked a question, and the discussion veered to hotel space, which effectively derailed the mayor’s intention to keep the meeting short.

As beds were counted and the dearth of local B&Bs bemoaned, Savannah attempted to block all thought of Sheriff Turner from her mind and allowed her attention to drift. She’d forgotten to check Inny’s water bowl before she’d left. Had she remembered to put the check for her latest essential-oils order in the mail? She needed to be sure to stop by the Trading Post on her way home and buy milk.

Despite her determination to ignore the man, Savannah found herself watching Zach Turner’s hands. When he pulled a small black notebook and a silver pen from his pocket and jotted a note, the action struck her as … official. Her throat went tight. Had he checked up on her? Had her effort to deflect his request to see her ID that day up at Lover’s Leap failed?

Every time someone asks me that question, it spells trouble for me. Big trouble. With that, her thoughts went spinning into the past.

Outside the movie theater when she is thirteen, the police officer pulls his notebook and a silver pen from his pocket. “May I see your ID?”

Her heartbeat pounds. Her mouth goes dry. Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap. “I wasn’t trying to sneak in, Officer. I bought a ticket. I promise I did. I thought I put it in my purse. I must have dropped it.”

“The manager says this is the third time he’s caught you crashing the gate, and he’s pressing charges.”

Great. Just great.

Six months later: a policeman motioning her to roll down the driver’s-side window as he flips open a notebook. “May I see your ID?”

No, he can’t. I’m driving without a license.

Eight months after that while on a delivery run, with the acrid scent of her daddy’s moonshine hanging on the air from the half dozen jars lying broken on the floorboards of the wrecked car’s backseat: “Step out of the car, please.”

Savannah can’t imagine having a worse encounter with the law.

Two years later, when the tall, handsome, blond-haired cop warns her that her taillight is cracked, then asks for her cell phone number, she’s not concerned. “I don’t own a cell phone.”

“Your home phone, then.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have a home phone, either. I don’t live here. I commute here to the junior college. I live with my grandmother in a rural area two hours away. We don’t have long-distance phone service.”

“Now, that’s a problem.” He flashed a brilliant smile. “How am I supposed to call you to ask you for a date?”

A date? Her heart grew wings and took flight. “My grandmother’s next-door neighbor will give me a message. She lets me use her phone.”

She repeated the number, but he didn’t write it down. Instead, a grin spread slowly across his face. “You know, life is filled with strange coincidences, isn’t it? I know that number. I’m Kyle Vaughn—Francine Vaughn is my mother. You must be Mrs. Aldrich’s granddaughter. Got into a little trouble before you moved here, I hear.”

Savannah’s heart crashed back to earth. She fumbled for words as he slipped his notebook back into his pocket. “I … um … my family …”

He gave her a magnanimous smile. “Don’t worry. I understand family obligation. If my dad was a moonshiner, I’m sure I’d have gone into the family business, too. Tell you what. Rather than involve our grandmothers right off the bat, how about I ask you out here and now? Want to go to the movies with me Saturday night?”

In her wildest dreams, she had not guessed that the encounter with Detective Kyle Vaughn would prove to be her undoing.

An elbow to her ribs jerked Savannah back to the present. “Raise your hand,” Sarah Murphy urged.

Savannah reacted automatically and raised her hand.

“Thank you, Ms. Moore.” Mayor Townsend beamed at her. “It’s so kind of you to volunteer, especially when we know you’re working your tail off to get your shop up and running. But it’s the best way possible to become part of the community.”

Volunteer? What did I volunteer for?

She twisted her head to look at Sarah and saw that the other woman was gazing across the table, a smug, satisfied look on her face. Savannah’s heart sank. She knew what she’d see before she turned and looked.

Zach Turner wasn’t happy.

Zach wanted to strangle Sarah Murphy.

He knew the woman well. He’d been friends with her a long time. They’d even dated for a few months.

He had recognized that wicked glint in her eyes, but by the time he’d figured out that it was directed toward him, he’d been helpless to prevent her interference.

Savannah Moore had been zoned out and staring into space when Sarah jabbed her and told her to volunteer. The woman didn’t have a clue that she’d volunteered to work with him. No way would she have done it on purpose. Not with her record.

Why the hell had he asked for volunteers to help with preparations for the planning committee meeting he was hosting, anyway? And not just any old planning committee meeting, either, but one to finalize the curriculum of the Substance Abuse Resistance Education program for schools in the entire state of Colorado.

Of course, he’d asked for help because he didn’t have time to even read the sports page these days, and Celeste had silently encouraged him.

Celeste. She and Sarah were partners in crime in this little disaster in the making. He didn’t know quite how she managed it, but when Hank Townsend asked if anyone had any special requests, she had leaned against Zach and brushed his arm and before he knew what had happened, he’d raised his hand and stated his case. Then Sarah had done her thing, and now he was stuck.

Damned matchmaking busybodies. He should have moved to Sweden with Inga.

Although maybe this was a blessing in disguise. Hadn’t he decided he needed to keep an eye on Ms. Savannah Moore? This was certainly one way to do it. Who knows, maybe he’d learn something from her, too. Nothing like watching the fox scope out the weaknesses in the henhouse walls to discover what needed to be strengthened.

Zach looked across the table at the soap maker. She looked a little sick, he decided. A little green around the gills. A little brown around the peach pit.

He smiled at her. Nodded.

She closed her eyes.

He felt better.

As Hank Townsend began moving quickly through the other items on his agenda, Zach focused his attention on his other worries and concerns. With a summer schedule like this, he needed to get deputies hired fast. The fax from Denver that had arrived just before he left the office was promising. He’d follow up on that as soon as possible.

The final item on the agenda was a report from Cat Davenport about the summer camp she and her husband, Jack, were in the process of building up on Murphy Mountain. Since the camp would have private-hire security, Zach’s interest was primarily personal rather than professional. The Davenports were his friends, and their project—a camp for children who had suffered a significant loss—was a labor of love.

“Unfortunately, negotiating the bureaucracy of regulations is taking longer than we’d anticipated, so we’ve had to push back our start date again,” Cat said. “However, we still want to do a test run inviting local youth as our guests, and we should have the dates for those sessions soon. We’ll announce sign-ups in the Eternity Times.”

“What age group, Cat?” Celeste asked.

“We’ll do a day camp for the little kids—first through third grade. Overnight camp will be two separate sessions: fourth through eighth grade, and ninth through twelfth.”

Mayor Townsend asked, “When you say guests, do you mean no fees?”

“That’s right. No fees. The kids who want to go will be our guinea pigs.”

“My grandkids will do back flips. You and Jack are doing a wonderful thing up there on Murphy Mountain.” Jim Brand beamed a smile at Cat, then turned to include Sarah. “Let’s not forget your husband’s part in it, too. The camp wouldn’t be a reality if Cam hadn’t donated the land for it.”

Sarah waved a dismissive hand. “What in the world was he going to do with a whole mountain? He was happy to contribute the land. Besides, it was either sign Jack’s contract or shoot him.”

Savannah cut Sarah a sharp look. Sarah said, “I speak the truth. It was a close call.”

“What is it with you people and guns?”

Sarah laughed and patted Savannah’s arm. “Jack interrupted our honeymoon—at an inopportune time, I might add. I will admit Cam eyed his pistol with more relish than warranted.”

Because Zach was watching Savannah closely, he saw her flinch at Sarah’s touch. Even as he noted the reaction, her lips lifted in a bright, genuine smile.

Zach felt the smile like a punch to the gut. He closed his eyes, swallowed a curse, and sighed. What the hell was the matter with him? Why did he react this way to Savannah Sophia Moore? So she was a babe. So what? She was a babe with a sheet. The worst kind of sheet.

Zach had worked in law enforcement all of his adult life. As a result, he recognized the gray areas in the commission of a crime. He understood extenuating circumstances better than most, primarily because he had witnessed them. Sometimes he had more sympathy for the criminal than he did for the victim. Sometimes the criminal had a damned good excuse for what he or she did.

There was never a good excuse for what this woman had done.

Savannah Sophia Moore, the sexy Georgia peach, was a drug dealer.