An Unlikely Family

“I’ll tell her. Don’t be late or you’ll be in trouble.”

He could picture Gemma’s finger shaking at the phone—the same sassy gesture Brenda Muldoone had perfected raising Billy and his two brothers. No one should ever underestimate the value of a good finger-shaking. “I won’t be late.”

He stuck the cell phone in his pocket and walked up the few steps to the Hogan’s front porch. Tapping lightly on the door, he hollered, “Anybody home?”

He heard a youthful squeal and a voice calling out that she’d get it. In a few seconds, the door swung open and Billy stared down at Jane, Claire’s daughter. The girl’s deep brown eyes smiled right along with her mouth as she announced over her shoulder, “Billy’s here.” She opened the door wider. “Come on in.”

Jane was cute as a button. All sweet-smelling and sparkly in pink shorts with ribbons in her long dark hair. She was only a year older than Gemma, and Billy often regretted that the two girls had never seemed to hit it off.

“How are you, Jane?” When she assured him that everything was rosy in her life, he asked where Jack was.

“He’s outside.” She pointed through the rear of the house. “Go on out.”

Billy entered the kitchen where Claire and Pet Sweeney were concocting something that smelled delicious. “Ladies,” he said. “Hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

Claire motioned to a tray of raw steaks on the counter. “You’re not going to be in our way, Billy. At least not until I can actually get Jack to put these things on the grill.” She paused and then said, “Why don’t you stay for dinner? We have an extra. I thought we were going to have company, but she turned me down.”

“She?”

“Yes. You met her—our new principal, Evie Gaynor.”

Billy leaned against the counter. “Evie was coming here?”

“Well, she never agreed to. But I invited her. She said she had some work to do before the teachers arrived for planning sessions tomorrow.” Claire glanced at Pet. “Actually, she didn’t say so, but I think Evie was afraid she’d be intruding. What do you think, Aunt Pet?”

“Maybe.” Pet delivered a mischievous look to Billy. “What do you think? You know her as well as anyone.”

“Me? I just met her…”

Pet continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Surely you’ve formed an opinion about our Miss Gaynor.”

Normally, Billy could ramble for ten or fifteen minutes on most any subject. But in this case, he simply said, “She seems real nice.”

Pet smiled. “She does, doesn’t she?”

Billy stood straight, suddenly uncomfortable under Pet’s scrutiny.

Claire sprinkled seasoning on the steaks. “So what do you say, Billy? Will you stay?”

“Thanks anyway, but I promised Gemma I’d be home. She’s got my evening all planned out with video game challenges. But I’d like to have a word with Jack, if that’s okay?”

“He’s in the gazebo, avoiding the grill,” Claire said. “I’m pretty sure he and Finn have had enough girl chatter for one afternoon.” She pointed her spoon at the back door. “They’ll welcome another male.”

“Thanks.” Billy left and headed down the pathway to the gazebo, which stood near the shore. He hadn’t been pleased to hear that Jack wasn’t alone and, worse, that his company was Finn Sweeney. “That’s just great,” he grumbled to himself as he meandered through the herb garden Pet had maintained while she’d lived in the smaller cottage behind Claire’s bungalow. He never looked forward to seeing the gruff old fisherman.

Billy and Finn had never gotten along, especially since Billy had once pursued his daughter Helen. Finn had always criticized any guy Helen went out with, and yet she’d ended up with the son of the one man the old grouch had sworn never to forgive. Yet Finn had gotten over his grudge with his decades-old enemy, proving again that life could take some odd turns.

“Look at you,” Billy said to himself. “Who’d have ever thought you’d actually ask your mother to move in with you?” But when Gemma had shown up on his doorstep four years ago, and Billy hadn’t known the first thing about kids, he’d seen Brenda as the answer to his prayers.

Widowed and with no family members who needed her anymore, Brenda Muldoone had willingly come to help her eldest son. Now she strived to keep all of them on the straight and narrow. Though no longer one of her weapons, that now-legendary willow switch reminded Billy every day that she was the woman who could do it.

Jack looked up when Billy stepped on a dry twig. “Hey, look who’s here.”

Finn frowned. “You write your quota of speeding tickets for one day, Muldoone?”

Billy stepped into the gazebo and shook his head. “I’m not getting into an argument with you, Sweeney.”

“It’d be the first time.”

Apparently, Finn was never going to get past all those reckless driving tickets Billy had given Helen, even though the old man knew darned well she’d deserved every one of them. At least motherhood had turned Helen into a conservative driver—something half a dozen fines hadn’t been able to do.

“I’ve come to talk to Jack,” Billy said, sending a pleading glance to the man who was both his boss and his friend.

“I’d like to give you some privacy and take a hike, Billy,” Finn said, tapping the arms of his wheelchair. “Unfortunately my hiking days have been somewhat limited the last forty-odd years.”

Jack motioned for Billy to sit on the bench built into the wall of the gazebo. “What’s on your mind? Is this something you can’t discuss in front of Finn?”

Billy studied the old man’s face for a moment. “I suppose he can hear.”

“Then go ahead and spill it,” Finn said. “Since there’s no way I’m going to end up with you as a son-in-law, I don’t dislike you half as much as I used to.”

“That’s a relief,” Billy mumbled. He clasped his hands between his knees and looked at Jack. “I’m just wondering what you know about the new principal, Evie Gaynor. Have you met her?”

“Not much, but Claire likes her. She was going to suggest Evie move into Pet’s old cottage. It’s been sitting vacant since Pet and Finn got married.”

“That’s a great idea,” Billy said.

“So what’s your interest in her?”

Billy shrugged. “I was just thinking of being friendly.”

Finn snickered. “So that’s what they call it these days.”

Jack scowled at Finn. “Never mind,” he said and gave Billy his full attention. “That’s a good plan. If you like this lady, take things a bit more slowly. She’s new in town. She’ll need friends, and, speaking from experience, I don’t know of a better one than you.”

“So you don’t think I might be reaching too high?”

Jack draped his arm around Billy’s shoulder. “Buddy, I don’t think the Queen of England is beyond your reach. I feel about you like I would a brother, but that doesn’t mean I’d marry you.”

“Well, thank God for that,” Billy muttered.

Jack laughed. “Evie’s not going anywhere. I have it on good authority from the mayor that she signed a two-year contract to stick it out down here. That gives you plenty of time to sweep her off her feet.”

“Right. If I don’t step on her toes in the process.”

Claire hollered at them from the house.

“Oh, Lord,” Finn said. “She’s waving that spatula like it was a battle ax. I’d suggest you take the hint.”

Jack went behind the wheelchair and pushed it toward the ramp he’d installed when Finn and Pet married. “Stay for dinner, Billy?”

“Can’t. Ma’s got stew cooking.” He went down the steps, walked briskly toward the house but called back to the other two, “Thanks for the advice. I know what I’m going to do.” And he did. He’d wait until tomorrow to call Evie and let her know how good a friend he could be.

CHAPTER FOUR

SO FAR Evie’s first official day had gone extraordinarily well. She’d arrived at Heron Point Elementary a few minutes before eight o’clock, just ahead of her administrative assistant, Mary Alice Jones, a middle-aged whirlwind of energy.

The eight teachers and auxiliary staff assembled in the cafeteria, a portable metal structure next to the main building, at eight thirty, where Evie introduced herself. Since most of the staff had been at the school for three years or more, they knew the procedures and made Evie feel welcome.

The third-grade teacher, a man in his mid-fifties, had lived in Heron Point since the school opened ten years earlier. He treated everyone by bringing in doughnuts from the town’s bakery, which happened to be owned by his wife. When he offered to bring coffee cake the next morning, Evie knew the figure she’d worked so hard for at her gym was in serious jeopardy.

After meetings all morning and a lunch of lasagna and green beans prepared by the cafeteria staff, Evie settled down at her desk with a stack of one hundred and twenty-five student folders that reached nearly to her chin. She’d gotten to know the teachers, now it was time to familiarize herself with the students. She pulled the first one off the top and opened it.

Johnny Adler. Evie studied the third-grader’s features from last year’s school picture, scanned the teacher’s comments about Johnny’s progress and behavior, and tried to place his face with his name.

Two hours had flown by when Evie reached the middle of the alphabet. She opened the folder containing records for Gemma Scarlett Muldoone and looked into mischievous brown eyes that immediately made Evie think of the girl’s father. Her hair was lighter than Billy’s, more the tan of a coconut and streaked with highlights the color of a new penny. The long waves were gathered into a neat ponytail with a bright green ribbon.

Smiling at the girl’s photo, Evie said, “Is this the child Helen Sweeney hinted was the terror of Heron Point? She looks so sweet.”

Evie flipped to the page containing Gemma’s vital information and gasped. Gemma’s record resembled a daily diary rather than a recap of educational milestones. Evie counted a dozen sheets of paper filled with comments from teachers and counselors and the previous principal.

When she’d reached the end of Gemma’s profile, Evie stuffed all the pages back into the folder and slammed it closed.

If a child is believed to be bad, or rumored to be bad, or expected to be bad, he will behave badly.

“I refuse to read a single word of this,” she said. “I will not be prejudiced by past opinions about this girl. It’s a new year, and every child deserves a clean slate.”

She couldn’t imagine the easy-going, self-assured cop she’d met raising a child who had a problem following rules. Evie didn’t know what had happened to Gemma’s mother—if she had died or if Billy and she were divorced—but she did know that Billy’s mother lived with them. Gemma had the input of both her father and grandmother.

Evie shoved the folder aside, picked up a pencil and began tapping it on her desk. Just because Billy was a capable cop, didn’t mean he was a competent father. She’d encountered many parents who, in her opinion, weren’t qualified for the job. Plus there were those who’d been willing and interested parents but not necessarily good ones. From this perspective, Evie was able to rationalize her growing desire to know more about Billy.

Her tapping grew more insistent as she recalled his announcement that he would call her sometime. He’d said it in front of Gail, so she assumed they didn’t have a relationship. And he wouldn’t have mentioned calling her at all if he hadn’t intended to do it, would he?

She spun her chair around to stare out the corner window. “Of course he would,” she said. “It was a casual comment, nothing more. Billy probably had no intention of calling despite what you let yourself believe and despite what Helen said about the overzealous cop.” Evie had to take Billy’s comment as just what it was—a local guy’s good-humored welcome to a newcomer. And that was just as well. Evie’s focus should be on Gemma, not the girl’s father.

Billy’s ruggedly handsome face evaporated from Evie’s mind at a knock on her door. “Come in,” she said, turning away from her view of the outside world.

Mary Alice stuck her head inside. “Sorry to bother you, Miss Gaynor, but we have a problem.”

“Oh?”

“One of our mothers is outside with her son and another student. It seems there was an incident on the playground before she came to pick up her child.”

“What? School hasn’t even started yet.”

Mary Alice shrugged. “We let the kids use the facilities all year long. These two were playing on the equipment. Shall I send them in?”

“Of course.” Evie rose. A girl entered first, and Evie’s gaze traveled from her pretty, pixie face and sun-streaked dark hair to the folder she’d just finished perusing. The girl’s familiar brown eyes glittered with indignation.

“This is Gemma Muldoone,” Mary Alice said, nudging the student farther into the room so the others could enter. The secretary introduced a slightly taller, husky boy as Bernard Hutchinson. “And this is Bernard’s mother,” she said. “Missy Hutchinson.”

Once everyone was inside, Mary Alice quickly slipped out and closed the door behind her. Evie faced three scowling faces. “What’s happened?”

“I’ll tell you what happened,” Missy declared. She pushed her son forward. “Look at him.”

Once she got a good look at Bernard’s shirt, Evie jumped back a step. “Good heavens. He’s covered with bugs!”

“You’re telling me,” Missy said. “They’re glued on.”

Regaining her composure, Evie advanced toward Bernard. She reached out and tentatively touched a lifelike roach, half expecting it to dart from under her finger. It didn’t. It remained immobile as one would expect from glued plastic. “They’re not real.”

“Thank heavens for that!” Missy said. “But they’ve ruined his shirt just the same.” She jabbed a finger toward Gemma’s head. “And her father can darned well replace it. I don’t care if he does only make a policeman’s salary. This shirt cost thirty dollars.”

Thirty dollars? For a kid’s play shirt? Evie refrained from commenting. “Did you do this?” she asked Gemma Muldoone.

“Why are you asking her?” Missy practically squealed. “I just told you she did. This child would lie about anything.”

Evie held up a hand. “Excuse me, Mrs. Hutchinson, but will you let me handle this?”

Missy released a pent-up breath and tugged at a caterpillar on Bernard’s collar. “See? They don’t come off.”

Evie pulled a chair next to Gemma. “Sit down, please.”

The girl’s chin thrust forward. “I don’t want to.”

“But I would like you to, so please do it.”

Gemma sat, appearing more like a wooden statue than a flesh-and-blood child.

“Now, I’d like you to tell me if you glued bugs to Bernard’s shirt and, if so, why you did it.”

Gemma’s eyes narrowed to slits. “I’m not saying I did, but if I did, it was because Bernard said I wasn’t going on any field trips this year.”

“Why would Bernard say that?”

“Because he’s mean and stupid.”

Missy fisted her hands on her hips. “There, you see? That’s what you’re dealing with, Miss Gaynor. A vandal and a name-caller.”

Evie sighed. “Please, Mrs. Hutchinson. There’s no need to resort to more name-calling.” She leaned over to be closer to Bernard’s height. “Did you tell Gemma that she wasn’t going on any field trips?”

“Sure. She’s not. She didn’t go on any last year—after the first one.”

Missy nodded dramatically. “Gemma’s not allowed near a public school bus,” she declared.

Evie didn’t intend to discuss that matter. Not when she still had the plastic bug caper to deal with. “This is a new year,” she said. “I think we’ll let Gemma’s teacher and I make field trip decisions.”

Missy smirked. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Evie perched on the edge of her desk and stared at Gemma, whose expression remained stoic. “You do realize, Gemma, that you can’t react to something someone said with a physical attack. That behavior is unacceptable. In this school we will respect each other’s personal property.”

Gemma huffed. “School hasn’t started yet. We were just playing. And besides, I didn’t say I did it.”

“No, but I believe you did. And you’re going to have to tell your father that if those bugs don’t come off, you owe Bernard a new shirt.”

“You’re not going to tell him?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I’m going to ask Bernard to give me his shirt, and you and I are going to stay in this office for as long as it takes for you to remove those bugs. And if Mrs. Hutchinson isn’t satisfied with the result, then we’ll see about involving your father.”

Gemma crossed her arms over her chest and slouched. “That’s not fair. He started it.”

“And it will end here, today. Do you need to call someone at home to say you’ll be delayed at school?”

“No.”

“Fine.” Evie wiggled her fingers at Bernard. “The shirt please.”

He took it off, handed it to her, and stood there in an Abercrombie T-shirt.

“I’m curious about one thing,” Evie said. “Did you try to stop Gemma from gluing bugs to your clothes?”

The considerably larger Bernard refused to look in Gemma’s direction. “Not after she said she’d punch my stomach.”

A smile lurked at the corners of Evie’s mouth. “I see. So you pretty much let her glue the bugs on?”

Bernard shrugged.

“Well, I hope you’ll remember from now on that you are not in charge of school policy, and that includes making decisions about who will and will not go on field trips.”

The boy hung his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

Evie turned to Gemma. “Is there something you’d like to say to Bernard?”

Gemma glared at him. “Yes, but then you’d call my dad.”

“Gemma!”

“Okay.” She squinted her eyes so tightly her face looked like a piece of overripe fruit. “I’m sorry, Bernard.”

Missy Hutchinson wasn’t satisfied. “That’s it? You’re not going to punish this child? You’re not even going to call her father?”

Evie was losing patience with Missy about as quickly as she was losing it with Gemma. “I’ll take care of matters from this point, Mrs. Hutchinson. You and Bernard may go. I’ll see that the shirt is returned for your inspection.”

Missy spun toward the door, pushing Bernard ahead of her. Evie tossed the shirt to Gemma. “You’d better get started.”

Gemma plucked a couple of bugs free before looking up at Evie with soulful dark eyes. “Thanks for not calling my dad.”

“Don’t thank me yet. It’s still a possibility.”

“Excuse me.” A gray-haired man appeared in the doorway.

“Yes?”

“Are you the new principal?”

Evie nodded. “And you are?”

“I’m Malcolm VanFleet, the maintenance man.”

Evie walked over and shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Malcolm. Did you need me?”

He stepped into her office. “Yes, ma’am.” Holding up a clear plastic bag, he said, “It’s about these things.”

Evie recognized the contents immediately. Dozens of bugs just like the ones on Bernard’s shirt. And a tube of quick-drying cement. She looked at Gemma who remained remarkably intent upon her task. “Where did you find these?” Evie asked Malcolm.

“Oh, they’re all over the playground. Bugs are stuck to the swings, the slide, the monkey bars, everywhere. I don’t know how long it’ll take me to get them all off, but I expect you should plan on paying me overtime since school starts in two days.”

Evie took the bag. She almost didn’t recognize her own voice when she said through clenched teeth, “Thank you, Malcolm.” Then she stuck her head out the door. “MaryAlice!”

The secretary jumped up from her chair. “Yes, Miss Gaynor?”

“Do you have Officer Muldoone’s phone number?”

Mary Alice smiled. “Oh, yes. I believe his cell number was left on the Rolodex on top of your desk. Would you like me to call him for you?”

Evie whirled around and went back into her office. “Never mind. I’ll do it myself.”

BILLY ALWAYS CARRIED a couple of small animal cages in the trunk of the cruiser. Living this close to water, you never knew when something would find its way onto a resident’s property. This afternoon’s creature was the belly-crawling kind.

He picked up the wire mesh box to show Mrs. Blake. “It’s just a harmless rat snake, ma’am,” he said. “I guarantee it was more afraid of you than you were of it.”

The elderly woman fluttered a handkerchief in front of her face. “You’re wrong about that, Billy. When a lady sees something like that coiled around the commode, well, I tell you, she’s plenty scared. It could have been a moccasin or some other poisonous snake.”

Billy smiled. “That would be venomous, Mrs. Blake. Snakes have venom in their bites, not poison. And this guy doesn’t have any venom at all.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” she said. “And I do thank you for coming to my rescue.”

Billy refrained from telling her that he more likely came to the rat snake’s rescue. Mrs. Blake hadn’t dropped her shovel since he’d arrived. When he got off work, he’d take the harmless creature out to the Indian burial grounds on the other side of the bridge and release it. He couldn’t see any justification in killing something that just happened to wander out of its element. “You’re welcome,” he said. “You call me anytime.”

He set the cage on the back seat. “Here you go, buddy. Unfortunately this is where most snakes in Heron Point end up eventually, usually the human kind.” After rechecking the box latch, Billy got behind the wheel. One more pass around town and he’d head back to city hall to write up a mostly uneventful report. He dreaded that job. Jack was a great boss and certainly a qualified chief of police, but he was a stickler for paperwork.

As Billy backed out of Mrs. Blake’s driveway, his cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and checked the caller. “Heron Point Elementary,” he said. “Well, I’ll be.” A smile broke across his face. He could only think of one person at the school who might be trying to reach him—Evie.

He pressed the connect button. “Muldoone here.”

“Billy, it’s Evie Gaynor at the elementary school.”

His smile widened at the sound of her voice. Brisk, official-sounding even, but music to his ears. “Hey, Evie, I was just thinking about—”

“Billy, we have a problem.”

“We do?” His smile began to fade.

“I have Gemma in my office.”

Oh, boy. “What’s she doing there? School doesn’t start for two days yet.”

“Maybe so, but your daughter made her presence known a little early. Can you come by?”

Billy sighed. “I’ll be right there…. What did she do?”

“I think you should see this for yourself. A description doesn’t do this particular situation justice.”

The line went dead. And unless he could smooth this over, so would his hopes for developing any kind of relationship with Evie.

EVIE HEARD HIS VOICE the moment he entered the outer office. Billy Muldoone had a way of making his presence known.

“I’m here to see Miss Gaynor,” he said to Mary Alice.

Mary Alice’s answer crooned with sympathy, as if she were used to this scenario. “Oh, hi, Billy. Yeah, I know. She and Gemma are in there.”

He stood on the threshold and looked into the office. Evie stood and came around the desk, her hands clenched at her waist. Meetings with parents under these circumstances was never pleasant, and this particular meeting was already topping the tension meter. Billy had been popping into Evie’s head with alarming regularity all day. But any relationship she’d envisioned had just moved to the principal’s office. It was a shame, really. Billy looked so crisp and competent… and, with his face shadowed with a day’s end beard, even sexy. But when the little creases at his mouth deepened, Evie realized he also looked uncharacteristically vulnerable.

He closed the door and removed his ball cap. His gaze held Evie’s for a moment before he looked to his left and saw Gemma. She stared up at him through wispy bangs that needed a trim. She struggled to pull a bug from a shirt and finally dropped it into a pile on the floor beside her chair. “Hi, Daddy.”