Someone Like You

“This must be a real change for you,” Pam said. She wrote out the check, then signed it.



“I’ll admit I’ve never dealt with the problem of lack of aliens before.”



“I didn’t mean just that,” Pam said, handing over the retainer. “I meant being back here.” She stood, then glanced around the room. “What a nightmare. I never expected to see you back in Los Lobos. Everyone thought you were going to make something of yourself. I guess we were wrong.”



She walked toward the door and waved. “I’ll wait to hear from you.”



Jill was too stunned by the insult to speak. So much for Pam having changed. The thought of the woman stuck with a ratty old house she couldn’t use or sell eased some of the sting of Pam’s parting shot. Of course, Jill was a good enough attorney that the odds of her having to keep the house were slim. Oh, well. She would take whatever bits of happiness she could find.



She ignored Pam’s brief conversation with a recently returned Tina, not wanting to hear any other comments about her having a stick up her butt, and was surprised when Tina came in as soon as Pam left.



“You had a delivery,” she said eagerly. “It’s a beautiful plant, and Annie from What’s in Bloom said it was from Gracie Landon. Is it really? Our own Gracie?”



“I guess,” Jill said as she rose, not sure who “our Gracie” was. “We’re still friends.”



Tina, dressed in khakis and a tucked-in T-shirt, pressed both hands to her chest.



“I know I’m a few years older than you two girls, but I just love that Gracie. She’s a legend. People still talk about her and what she did to get her man.”



Jill winced. Gracie would not be pleased to know her teenaged exploits in the name of claiming the love of Riley Whitefield lived on.



“She was pretty young,” Jill said as she walked into the reception area and saw a beautiful tree with flowering things tucked in around it.



“It’s a miniature ficus,” Tina said. “The flowers in front are cut. They’ll die soon, but the tree could last for years. There’s a card.”



She handed over the envelope, then waited expectantly. Jill felt obligated to read the note wishing her luck aloud.



“Imagine. Gracie Landon.” Tina touched the leaves and smiled. “Remember the time Riley and Pam went parking up on the bluff and Gracie followed them on her bike and dumped a bag of crickets into the car?”



Jill remembered the incident all too well. While she’d had a massive crush on Mac, she’d been content to love him from afar. Not so Gracie. At fourteen she’d been stubborn about Riley being hers, and bitter about him dating Pam Baughman. She’d come up with scheme after scheme to separate the two, most of which Jill had quietly participated in.



There had been the crickets in the car, the potato in his tailpipe to keep him from being able to pick up Pam. Once Gracie had nailed all of Pam’s doors and windows shut, trapping the teenager in her house so she couldn’t make a date. Gracie had put itching powder in Riley’s shorts the night of spring formal and had even thrown herself in front of his car and begged him to just kill her if he was going to keep dating Pam.



Gracie had declared to all who would listen that Pam didn’t care about Riley at all—that she was just dating him because one day he would inherit old man White field’s fortune. No one had paid attention. Jill supposed that their divorce less than five months after the wed ding had been a form of vindication, but for Gracie, the news had come too late. Heartbroken by what she’d seen as Riley’s ultimate betrayal, she’d moved in with some relatives and had never returned to Los Lobos.



“Gracie’s amazing,” Tina said. “You haven’t loved until you’ve loved like Gracie.”



“In many quarters what she did would be considered stalking.”



Tina looked shocked. “No. She was just a kid in love with a boy who didn’t notice her. But she had a big heart and she loved with every inch of it. I admire that. So do most folks in town.”



“I’ll be sure to mention it,” Jill said wryly. “She’ll be thrilled.”



“Are you going to call her right now?” Tina asked excitedly. “Oh, tell her hi from me. I’m sure she won’t re member me, but I sure remember her. Gracie Landon. She sure knew how to love a man.”



Jill picked up her miniature ficus tree and carried it into her office. The fish watched suspiciously as she set it on a small table by the window, then crossed to her desk and grabbed the phone.



“I’m calling to say thanks,” she said when her friend answered.



“I know you have the black thumb of death,” Gracie said with a chuckle, “but even you should be able to keep a ficus alive.”



“I hope so. It was sweet of you to think of me.”



“Are you kidding?” Gracie asked. “You’re back in Los Lobos. You have my deep sympathy.”



“How about instead of sympathy you come visit me? I could cry on your shoulder.”



“Are things that bad?”



Jill glanced at the fish, then at the files on her desk. “It could be worse.”



“Yeah, I could be there with you. Which is never going to happen. I have vowed not to return there ever. No matter what.”



“So had I, and look what happened to me.”



“Good point.” Gracie sighed. “Seriously, how are you holding up?”



“I’m fine. There have been some interesting law cases. Guess who came in this morning?”



“I’m not sure I want to.”



“Pam Whitefield.”



Gracie laughed. “My first instinct is to say ‘that bitch,’ which tells me I may have some unresolved issues.”



“That would be my vote. She’s still snarky.”



“But single, right? My heart beats faster knowing no one wants to marry her.”



Jill laughed. “Yes. Still single. There’s something else. It seems your reputation hasn’t died the death you would have liked.”



Gracie groaned. “No. Don’t tell me that. It’s one of the reasons I’ve stayed away and convinced my entire family that it’s really fun to come visit me in L.A. for the holidays.”



“Yup, Tina, my assistant, just did five minutes on the Gracie legend. About how you haven’t loved until…”



“Please be kidding.”



Jill shook her head. “Sorry. I think this is bigger than both of you.”



“I can’t believe it. When I think about what I did to that poor guy. Riley must get hives every time he re members me.”



“I’m sure he’s recovered.”



Jill picked up a pen and turned it over. Should she tell Gracie what had happened with Mac? They didn’t have many secrets from each other, but she wasn’t sure about spilling something so intimate with Tina in the next room.



“I’ll give you a call in a couple of days,” she said in stead.



“Please do. I’m knee-deep in wedding season. There are cakes everywhere.”



Gracie had become a specialty baker whose wedding cakes were in high demand by the rich and famous of Los Angeles.



“Send me pictures,” Jill said. “You know I love to keep up.”



“Will do. You hang in there. Call if you need to scream or anything.”



“Promise.”



“Bye.”



Jill hung up and leaned back in her chair. Just thinking about Gracie always made her smile. Those had been some wild, fun times. Even though Gracie had moved away the summer they turned fifteen, they’d stayed close friends.



She glanced at her watch, then at the closed door between her office and Tina’s. She might as well ask now, while her assistant/secretary/receptionist was in a good mood. She wanted a ride to her car so she could move it from the baseball practice fields to the grocery store parking lot. She had a plan to park it by the cart return.



MAC SAT on the corner of the desk at the front of the conference room and took stock of his employees. The Los Lobos sheriff’s office wasn’t anything like the LAPD. While there wasn’t the same level of crime in the two communities, there also weren’t the resources for his department. He had ten full-time deputies, three part-timers, one detective, five clerical workers, and four dispatchers, including Wilma, who pretty much ran things.



Most everyone did a good job, some better than others. The only problem he’d found in the three weeks he’d been sheriff was a new deputy named D.J. Webb. D.J. had plenty of attitude but no experience to back it up. Not a combination that made Mac comfortable.



“The tourist season is a little busier than we expected,” Mac said, “but we’re handling it. With the Fourth of July next week, we need to pay attention. The beaches will be crowded as will downtown. This is a time for families. So we’ll pick up all the D&Ds and give them some time to sober up. Wilma, we have the extra space reserved?”



“You bet.”



The drunk and disorderlies weren’t his only problem. With the crowds came petty criminals, short-tempered drivers searching for parking and the occasional motel robbery.



“We need to remember to be friendly,” Mac said. “Don’t go looking for trouble—it will find you soon enough.”



“What if there’s a terrorist attack?” D.J. asked.



Wilma snickered and the detective grinned.



“I’m serious,” D.J. said earnestly. “We’re not pre pared if a group comes in here with heavy firepower.”



“We’re more likely to be held hostage by a band of rogue sharks,” one of the deputies said. “It’s Los Lobos, D.J. Lighten up.”



Mac felt the beginnings of a headache—one that would last the entire summer. “We’re not a big terrorist target,” he told D.J.



“Not so far as you know. We need to get into those federal databases and figure out what we should be doing.”



“Thanks for sharing.” Mac glanced around the room. “If that’s it, check the board in the morning. I’ll be posting a new schedule to get us through the holiday week end.”



People stood and left the conference room. Wilma waited until they were alone, then patted his arm. “D.J.’s gung ho, but he’ll grow out of it as he matures.”



“I’m not sure I can wait that long.”



The older woman grinned. “I know for a fact you were once young and foolish.”



“That I’ll admit to.”



“Any stories you want to share?”



He laughed. “Sure. When I was seventeen I stole Judge Strathern’s Cadillac on a bet.”



“I hadn’t heard about that. Did you get caught?”



“Of course. I was young and stupid, right? When the judge came to the jail the next morning I thought he was going to tan my hide. Worse, I was afraid my mother would lose her job—she was his housekeeper.”



Wilma’s eyes widened. “What happened?”



“He piled me into the front seat of that car and drove me to Lompoc prison where I spent the day in a cell with a very scary felon. By three-thirty that afternoon, I’d more than seen the error of my ways. On the way back to Los Lobos, the good judge talked to me about staying on the right side of the law and joining the military when I graduated from high school. He pretty much saved my ass.”



“He’s a good man,” Wilma said. “As are you. Patience with D.J.”



“I’ll try.”



“That’s all any of us can do.” She walked toward the door, then paused and glanced at him. “Jill seems a lot like her father in temperament, if not in looks.”



Mac instantly thought of the very hot kiss they’d shared and how the aftereffect had kept him up half the night. Yeah, she and her dad didn’t look anything alike. “They have a few things in common, but she’s her own person.”

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