Everywhere She Goes

Noah had hoped for more applications than he’d received so far. He supposed Angel Butte seemed isolated to most potential applicants, a backwater with a lousy climate. But the area was booming economically thanks to tourism. It was beautiful, and there had to be some people in the field who loved to ski or hike or fish. Or, hell, just wanted to breathe air that wasn’t yellow with smog, or commute five minutes to work instead of spending two hours a day crawling in heavy traffic on the freeway.

He’d already received three online applications that morning. Now, he flipped through the day’s mail, which included several more résumés for people interested in the city recorder job and five for the community development one. Two of those he tossed in the recycling bin after barely a skim. Two were possibles, but not exciting. The fifth... He couldn’t quite decide. In one way, she was overqualified, apparently only months from receiving an interdisciplinary PhD in urban design and planning. Actual work experience was somewhat scantier—after getting her master’s degree in urban planning from the University of Washington, she’d worked as a planner in community development in Kitsap County, on the other side of Puget Sound from Seattle. From there she’d gone to Spokane, where she’d spent a year completing a special position as parks project manager, preparing an updated plan for the city’s parks and open spaces. She’d included excellent letters of recommendation, as well as one from her dissertation adviser at the UW. Noah had advertised for someone with a minimum of four years’ experience in a position of comparable seniority to the one in Angel Butte. This woman didn’t quite have that—although close if he added in her various internships—but she shone if he wanted someone with cutting-edge knowledge of the field.

He glanced again at her name. Caitlyn McAllister. As it registered, a frown gathered on his forehead. The last name had to be coincidence. Didn’t it? He went back to the first page of the résumé to see when she’d received her degrees. BA in political science from Whitman College... The date of graduation likely put her in her late twenties now. Thirty at most, if she’d been a slow bloomer.

He had no idea whether police captain Colin McAllister had a sister. If this Cait was related to him, that might explain why someone of her education was interested in a town so off the beaten path. On the other hand—as pissed as McAllister was, as undecided as he was about his future in Angel Butte—surely his sister wouldn’t have applied to work closely with his sworn enemy, the man who had in his eyes betrayed him.

Damn it, if she was related to McAllister, did he even want to consider hiring her?

Noah read her qualifications again and, impressed, thought, Why not? By the time they reached the interview stage, he might have half a dozen other strong candidates. So far, though, she was the cream of the crop.

He reached for his telephone.

* * *

CAIT’S EYE CAUGHT the blue-and-white roadside sign. Entering the City of Angel Butte, Population 38,312.

Oh, boy. She hadn’t expected to be so nervous. She didn’t even know why she was. Some of her memories of the years before her mother had taken her away weren’t so good, but she also had happy ones. So it wasn’t the town, per se.

Seeing her brother, maybe? The farther she’d gotten down the road, the more she wished she’d called to let him know she was coming. It was just that she didn’t know how he’d feel about her moving back here, and really their relationship was so stiff and distant, she wouldn’t blame him if he was less than thrilled.

My fault.

Yes, it was. He had tried. She knew he would have liked to be closer to her. Her feelings had been so complicated, her memories so muddled, she was the one to keep him at arm’s length. At the same time... Well, she remembered him walking her to school, holding her hand. With seemingly endless patience, Colin had taught her to ride a bike, not Dad or Mom. When she’d started playing soccer, he’d kicked the ball with her by the hour. He’d teased her, and put up with her trailing him around like a hopeful puppy even though he was six years older than her. He’d been sixteen when Mom had hurriedly packed her own and Cait’s things one day, loaded her in the car and driven away. By then Colin was a man, with a stubbly jaw come evening and a man’s muscles, capable of such terrifying anger and violence.

The tumble of images and memories running like YouTube videos were so vivid and frightening, she put on her turn signal and pulled to the shoulder of the two-lane highway leading into town. Stopped, she clutched the steering wheel, closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

Her father had hurt her mother. Hurt Cait, sometimes. Colin and Dad had fought viciously, even sometimes punching holes in walls or breaking furniture. How, growing up in that kind of environment, had she let herself get sucked into an abusive relationship? Shame rose in her, making it hard to breathe.

Why? she cried inwardly, and had no answer.

There was no way she could ever tell Mom. Cait didn’t know if she could bring herself to tell Colin, either. Except...if there was any chance at all that Blake were to follow her to Angel Butte, she’d have to, wouldn’t she? Wasn’t she there to interview for this job because of Colin? Because he was a cop, and she knew he’d protect her? Because he’d persisted in saying, “I’m your brother”?

Yes. But...she could wait to see if Blake appeared, couldn’t she?

Why did she care what Colin thought of her?

Because. Because he was her brother. Because he loved her, and she knew it.

The last time she had seen him, this past November when he’d come to Seattle for some kind of law enforcement conference, she had wanted to really talk to him, maybe even tell him she was in trouble. But Blake, of course, had insisted on going with her when she had dinner with her brother, so she’d found herself being stiff as always, struggling for anything to say, letting Blake dominate the conversation.

There it was again, a burst of the shame. She didn’t understand herself at all. She was a professional, for heaven’s sake, smart, assertive on the job and in the classroom, well educated. Likable, with lots of friends—until she quit having time for them, because her boyfriend wanted all her time.

Was achieving understanding of her own horrible choices too much to ask?

Her breathing had grown calmer and her grip on the wheel more relaxed. She put on her turn signal, looked in the rearview mirror and pulled back out on the highway when there was an opening.

She’d printed out directions to her brother’s house from the internet. Since it was only midafternoon and she assumed he wouldn’t be home, she took the time to drive first through the urban sprawl on the outskirts of the old town, then through downtown and marvel at the changes. A multiplex movie theater? Really? And Target and Staples and Home Depot and just about every fast-food chain restaurant in existence? In Angel Butte?

On the main street, she spotted the old theater, where the whole family had occasionally seen movies, and where Colin had more often taken her. At least it still existed, although it looked as though it was a playhouse now. Which, come to think of it, was probably how it had started, so maybe that was fitting. Cait couldn’t believe the number of coffee shops and bistros, art galleries and boutiques. This was like a mini-Aspen or Leavenworth without the schmaltz. In early May, ski season was past, but that didn’t mean there weren’t still plenty of obvious tourists window-shopping and going in and out of restaurants.

Cait’s stomach growled, and it occurred to her that she couldn’t exactly drop in at her brother’s at dinnertime and announce, Guess what! I came for a visit. Especially since he’d gotten married only two months ago. Cait had read about his new wife, Madeline Noelle Dubeau, although the wedding invitation had made it plain that she went by Nell. Even in far-off Seattle, it had been impossible not to read about Maddie Dubeau, miraculously found after she’d disappeared when she was fifteen. Cait even remembered Maddie. She kind of thought they were in a class together. Third grade? Fourth, maybe? She was a skinny, shy girl, but really smart. Cait and she were in the top reading and math groups together. It was Colin who had brought Maddie home to Angel Butte and protected her when someone tried to kill her. Cait found herself really hoping that Maddie—no, Nell—truly loved Colin.

The whole idea of showing up out of the blue was a horrible one. What had she been thinking?

Ahead she spotted an obviously new, redbrick public safety building that, according to the sign, housed both police station and jail. Colin was likely in there right this minute.

Cait grabbed the first open curbside parking spot, then took out her phone. Scrolling to Colin’s cell phone number took only a few seconds. Working up the courage to actually call him—that was harder.

* * *

FILLED WITH CONFLICTING emotions, Colin turned into his driveway. He stopped long enough to hop out and grab the mail and newspaper, but he didn’t even glance at the headlines.

Cait was here. In Angel Butte. Dazed, he shook his head. Damn, better than that, she was really here, meeting him at home. Potentially, home to stay.

He only wished he understood why. The familiar reserve had been in her voice when she’d called, and he couldn’t get a good read on her, but she had admitted that she hadn’t made hotel reservations and, when he’d asked her to stay with him and Nell, she’d accepted. Not until they set a time and ended the call had it hit him what job she had undoubtedly applied for.

Director of community development, working right under that slimy bastard Noah Chandler. Of course, since Colin and Cait hadn’t talked since she’d called with an excuse for not attending his wedding, she didn’t yet know what kind of man Chandler was. And might not care what Colin thought, he realized; why would she, given the barely-there state of their relationship?

A strange car sat in front of his garage. A peanut like Nell’s, this hatchback differed in being shiny and new-looking. He pulled in next to it, and his sister got out of the driver’s side.

He met her near their rear bumpers. “You look good,” were the first words out of his mouth.

She smiled, and suddenly that smile was wobbling and there were tears in her eyes. “Colin.”

He took a couple of steps, she took a couple and then they had their arms wrapped around each other, and he laid his cheek against her hair.

“Damn, Cait,” he murmured. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

She gave a choked laugh. “I’m not sure I can believe it, either.”

They separated slowly, reluctantly on his part. He couldn’t be sure how she felt, although something was different about her from the last time he’d seen her. Her face was more open. She was looking him over as frankly as he studied her, her gray eyes a match for his.

One thing that had changed was her hair. Lighter than his, almost blond, it had flowed damn near to her waist the last time he’d seen her. Now it was pixie-short, highlighting the delicacy of her features. He’d kind of known his sister was beautiful, but he hadn’t been hit with it like this before. She was also thinner than she’d been in November, he thought, but not in an unhealthy way. She looked leggy and athletic.

“How’s the married state?” she asked.

He grinned. “I recommend it.”

Her eyes seemed to darken, as if a cloud had momentarily covered the sun, but all she did was nod. “I’m glad for your sake.”

“You haven’t taken the plunge without telling me, have you?”

“You mean get married?” Her laugh held no hint of real amusement. “No. In fact...” Momentarily she pressed her lips together. “I’ve broken up with Blake. Um...you remember him, right?”

“I remember him.” Colin hadn’t much liked the guy, although he hadn’t been able to put his finger on why and suspected he had a mental block when it came to liking anyone who shared his little sister’s bed.

She nodded, her gaze sliding away from his. “Thing’s didn’t end that well, so...” The sentence drifted into the ether.

Colin’s eyes narrowed. Had the bastard ditched Cait? The way she was wringing her hands together, “not well” had to have been pretty damn hurtful.

“How long ago?” he asked.

“As it happens, only a few days after we had dinner with you.”

So November. Six months hadn’t been long enough for her to start healing? That sent up a flare. But she’s here, he reminded himself. They had time to relax with each other, talk. Pushing too soon would be a mistake.

“Hey,” he said. “Come on inside. Do you have a bag I can carry?”

“Oh. Sure.” She grabbed her purse from the car, then went around to the back and unlocked it. His surprise at seeing two enormous suitcases, as well as a smaller one, must have showed, because she explained, “I was staying with a friend whose boyfriend is suddenly moving in. So, well, I packed everything.” She shrugged.

“You must have furniture, kitchen stuff...” He floundered.

“In storage. I’ve been sort of on the move a lot lately.”

Since she and Blake had split up, he diagnosed. But that sounded as if she’d moved a couple of times or more since then. More flares shot into the sky. Still too soon, he told himself.

“I only need the small one,” she said. “I can get it—”

“Don’t be silly.”

As he gave her the tour of his home, she seemed genuinely impressed with the house, its open spaces, river rock fireplace and vast windows, which let in a flood of light and a view of the surrounding ponderosa and lodgepole pine forest, as well as some raw outcroppings of lava.

Colin carried her suitcase to the spare bedroom, pointed out the bathroom and left her to settle in while he went to put on coffee. Cait joined him only a minute or two later, perching on one of the tall stools at the breakfast bar as if she’d been there a thousand times. Colin leaned back against the cabinet, hands braced on the countertop edge to each side. Again they studied each other.

“You finish your dissertation?” he finally asked.

“Mostly.” Cait wrinkled her nose. “I’m at the cross-checking and polishing stage. I can do that long-distance as well as I could in Seattle.”

“Why this job?” He made sure his voice was quiet, nonthreatening.

“Why not?” his sister challenged him.

“You’ve never expressed any interest in coming home before.”

“I don’t think of Angel Butte as home. Why would I? I haven’t so much as set foot in town in eighteen years.”

“So why now?” he persisted.

“The job’s really perfect—”

He didn’t let her finish. “I thought you were aiming for a career in academia. Isn’t that why you went back for the PhD?”

Her shrug was jerky. “I’m not so sure anymore. No matter what, I want more real-life experience before I consider going into teaching. And, like I said, getting out of Seattle seemed like a good idea right now.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked gently.

Her eyes met his. Hers were bright with...something. Anguish? Fear? Nothing he liked. But she only shook her head. “Not right now, okay?”

His fingers tightened on the tiled edge of the countertop, but he tried to hide his reaction from her. “You know I’m here for you.”

Her head bobbed. Her “yes” came out as a whisper. “I suppose...that’s why I came. Because you always said that.” She tried to smile. “I’m hoping you aren’t dismayed to have me take you up on your offer.”

“Never,” he told her, making sure she heard how serious he was. “You’re my family.”

After a moment, she nodded again, then cleared her throat. “So, what can you tell me about the mayor and city council and everyone else I’d be working with if I take this job?”

His grunt wasn’t quite a laugh. “That’ll take me all evening. But let’s start with the mayor.”

CHAPTER TWO

RUTH KNOCKED LIGHTLY and stuck her head around the door. “Ms. McAllister is here, Mayor.”

Noah looked up from Cait’s résumé, which he’d been reviewing. “Good. Send her in.”

He hoped she wasn’t a disappointment. He’d interviewed two candidates so far and been underwhelmed by both. Her, he had a good feeling about—unless she was Colin McAllister’s sister, a relationship bound to taint their association.

He rose from behind his desk just as she walked in. Tall, slim and beautiful. Stunned, he probably gaped. Hair cut short to lay in feathery wisps around her face was darker than honey and sun-streaked. She wore heels, black trousers and a formfitting, short royal blue blazer over a simple white camisole. Gold hoops in her ears. Her stride was lithe, her smile pleasant and luminous gray eyes wary.

And—hell—he knew those eyes, color and shape.

“You have to be related to Captain McAllister,” he said.

Her smile didn’t falter. “That’s right. He’s my brother.”

“Ah.” He held out his hand anyway.

She studied it for a moment that stretched a little too long before allowing him to envelop her much more slender hand. It was unexpectedly chilly to the touch. Resisting the temptation to hold on, maybe take her other hand and warm both, Noah let her go and nodded toward the grouping of chairs around a low circular bird’s-eye maple table that gave him a comfortable place to hold long conversations.

“Coffee?” he asked. “Or tea or water or...?”

“I’m good, thank you.”

He waited until she chose a chair and sat before doing the same himself. They looked at each other for a long minute. He wondered how she saw him. He wasn’t a handsome man. The face he saw in the mirror every morning was downright ugly, in his opinion. Maybe unfortunately, it suited his aggressive, straight-to-his-goal, probably brusque personality. On the other hand, he’d never had any trouble getting women. This one had to have heard an earful from her brother, though.

Yeah, so? he asked himself, irritated. This was a job interview, not a date. If he didn’t hire her, she wouldn’t stay in town. If he did, he’d be her direct supervisor. Coming on to her wasn’t an option.

Ignoring the inconvenient attraction, he started with the usual chitchat. She had lived in Angel Butte only until she was ten, she explained, at which point her parents had divorced and she had moved away with her mother. Yes, she had to admit that her brother’s residence here had something to do with her interest in the advertised position.

Noah hesitated, but he decided to get this out of the way before either of them wasted any more time. “Are you aware that your brother and I have our differences?”

“Yes.”

That was all. Yes. Even her expression didn’t alter.

He pushed a little harder. “Is that going to be a problem?”

One sculpted eyebrow quirked slightly higher than the other. “It won’t be unless I take the position and you fail to back me up when I need your support.” The emphasis on “me” was there, but subtle enough he couldn’t call her on it.

Annoyed for a different reason now, he met her challenging stare. He’d have had no trouble labeling her as an ice princess, except that her eyes were the furthest thing from cold. There was one hell of a lot going on in her, but she was repressing it. Only those big, shimmering gray eyes gave her away.

He didn’t see what he could do but nod although he felt his jaw muscles spasm. “All right. Let’s talk about your background.”

They dived right in. Her dissertation had to do with the cultural assumptions that led, and sometimes misled, urban planning. She had the academic stuff down pat—she talked about natural resources, engineering, public decisions, leadership and the conflicts inherent in those elements.

Insofar as he understood what the position entailed, he aimed his questions at finding out how practical her knowledge was versus ivory-tower theory and idealism. She got right down to the nitty-gritty, talking about planning, sure, but also code compliance, her ability to evaluate complex data, read and interpret plans, specifications, maps and engineering drawings. They ended with a heavy focus on the people-management component. She would be directly supervising an assistant director, chief of building inspectors, administrative services manager and others. She claimed understanding the real needs of citizens was her first priority, followed by balancing the goals she set with the reality of dealing with politicians, developers, landowners, protesters. They talked about the frequent presentations she’d be giving to city council committees, civic groups and more.

She asked about those committees, and he tried to give her a sense of city council personalities and how they related to the Infrastructure Advisory Board, the Arts, Beautification and Culture Committee and Economic Development Committee, all of which would demand her involvement.

Cait McAllister remained poised, articulate and knowledgeable. She never faltered. She was so damn cool, he tried to shake her, jumping topics from zoning to budgets, EPA requirements, water reclamation, citizens versus tourists. Nothing. She jumped with him.

She’d driven around town this morning, she told him, and already had some observations.

“I admit,” she commented, “that I was dismayed by the, er, shopping strip that was my first impression of Angel Butte.”

“All that was county until an extensive annexation took place a year ago.”

“I imagine that was good for the tax base.”

“Yes and no.” He ran a hand over his jaw, feeling the scrape of whiskers. “The campaign for the annexation was intelligently run. Unfortunately, nobody did any planning to speak of for handling the newly annexed areas. Your brother may have talked to you about the challenge it provided the police department. Our former mayor and a good part of the city council were opposed to expanding the number of officers in the department. Instead, they were spread so thin, in no time problems arose. I imagine it goes without saying that we’ve had plenty of other similar issues.”

Her eyes had widened. “I can imagine. Sewer, water, fire department... I’ll bet there’s a huge backlog in approving building permits.”

Noah smiled grimly. “Two city council members are major local developers. You’d think they’d have foreseen the problems, but apparently not. Now they’re unhappy.”

A flash of humor on her face almost took his breath away. “I have yet to meet a happy developer,” she murmured.

He chuckled, a rusty sound. “Now that you mention it...”

Her smile lit her face. He stared for too long; the smile died and her gaze became wary.

“What do you see as priorities for new projects?” he asked gruffly to cut short the moment.

“I can only address the obvious,” Cait pointed out. “There may be urgent need for storm-water projects or the like. I see Bend is expanding their water reclamation facility, for example.”

He nodded. “We have some of the same issues. I’ve been looking at possible sites for a new sewer treatment facility. But go with the obvious. What jumps out at you?”

“Some visual mitigation of the less than appealing approach to town,” she said bluntly. “Broader streets, landscaping, at the least. It’s great to have those kinds of businesses, both for the convenience of citizens and visitors alike and from a tax standpoint. But it’s ugly. Not an appealing first impression of what proves to be a charming town. We might even consider a bypass route.”

He nodded. That was on his list, too.

“Second, if Angel Butte is to continue to draw tourists in the numbers I saw this morning, I’d recommend major infrastructure work aimed at improving bicycle and pedestrian traffic. Right now, parking downtown is an exercise in frustration. You’ve got people jaywalking everywhere, and I’d be scared to ride a bike on most of the existing roads. You don’t want people staying at local resorts and inns to have to get into a car to go out for dinner, for example. They may end up irritated, and they may even decide to drive up to Sunriver to eat instead. Looking to the future, I’d argue that this would be an economically intelligent direction.” A wry smile flickered. “You might prevent some traffic fatalities besides.”