Valentine Wishes (Baxter Academy Book 1) Read online

  She doesn’t leave like I expected. Instead, she walks over and stands next to me. I glance at her but from this angle, I’m looking right at her legs. Nice legs. Really nice legs. If I wasn’t already late for a date, I’d take time to get to know her.

  I look further up to the blue and white striped skirt and white top. She’s smiling at me.

  “Are you sure you don’t need assistance?” She takes her sunglasses and pushes them to the top of her head. Her full, red lips are smiling and those green eyes are studying me.

  “Thanks, but I’ve got this.” I don’t need this distraction right now. I need to get this tire changed, get to Sullivan’s, and hope Jacqueline is still waiting and that I didn’t blow it.

  She cocks a hip and anchors a hand on it. “I can wait. Maybe we can get a drink when you’re done.”

  What the hell? She doesn’t even know me. I stand.

  “Do you make it a habit of stopping for stranded motorists and suggesting a drink?” Stupid shit like that could get her killed. Any number of guys would take her up on the offer.

  “No.”

  I’m not even going to question why she decided to stop for me. “Look, I’m already running late. I appreciate the offer to help, and the drink, but someone is waiting for me.”

  “How late are you going to be?”

  “At this rate, about an hour.”

  “Are you sure she’s going to be waiting on you?”

  I push my fingers through my hair and then mentally curse. Now I’ll probably have grease in my hair too. “I don’t know, but I’m not going to be a no show. So, if you don’t mind…” I gesture to the tire.

  “I’ll wait.”

  I blow out a frustrated breath. “Look. I’m sure you’re a nice girl. But, I have a date to get to.”

  “Then, I’ll bring the drink to you.”

  I don’t say anything and get back to tightening the nuts on the spare. Maybe I should call Sullivan’s again to make sure Jacqueline is still waiting. If she’s not, I’ll just go home and shower and call it a night.

  The Mazda doesn’t start up like I assumed it would when the car door opened, but I don’t even look in that direction. Maybe she’s some crazy chick and the only way she’s going to give up is when I leave without her number.

  After I tighten everything down, I lower the jack and grab it to put it back in my trunk. When I turn, I notice she’s leaning against the hood of her car, sipping from a cup and holding another one out to me.

  What kind of woman drivers around with a spare drink in her car? The hair stands up on the back of my neck and I make a note of her license plate. I’ll ask an officer to run it as soon as I’m out of here. I’m sure as hell not going to drink anything she is offering. Maybe it’s just my profession, but my first thought is that she’s put something in the drink to incapacitate me somehow. I don’t know her intentions, but I’m not going to play into her hands and find out. “No thanks.”

  “But I brought it for you.”

  “Me?” What the hell?

  “Hi, I’m Jacqueline Baxter.” She grins. “We’re supposed to have dinner.”

  Chapter Three

  I feel bad that Brett has a flat tire, but happy that it wasn’t all a lie. So far, he’s scored points for calling not one person, but two to make sure I got the message. He scored more when trying to get rid of me, or at least, not being overly friendly, and explaining that he had places to be. And those points just kept mounting as I watched him change that tire. Damn, he looks hot in those black slacks and light grey button down shirt. And not hot in that he’s sweating and grease stained, but hot with muscles in all the right places. For once, Ashley and I agree on a guy.

  His pants were hiked a bit while he squatted and lifted the tire and he’s wearing an ankle holster, which kind of surprised me. What kind of guy takes a gun on a date? Then again, he’s the same guy who was with the state trooper when I was stopped this morning. Maybe he’s an undercover cop or detective or something like that. Though, he’s kind of young to be a detective. He’s too clean cut to be undercover. Don’t they usually disguise themselves as unkempt druggies?

  His ice blue eyes widen and then he relaxes, blowing out a breath. “I am so sorry I was delayed.”

  “Hey, you couldn’t help it.”

  He takes the cup of tea and sips from the straw. “How did you know where I’d be?”

  “Ashley told me what kind of car you drive and what road she thought you’d be taking into town.”

  “Thanks for the tea. I was thirsty.” He takes another sip and shakes his head. “I can’t believe you came looking.”

  I bite my lip. “To tell you the truth, I wasn’t sure if you were trying to get out of the date.”

  He chokes on his drink. “And if you hadn’t found me?”

  “I’d have gone home, and enjoyed two iced teas instead of one.” I shrug. “On you, of course.” I laugh. “I told Seamus to charge them to you.”

  “I’ll make sure and settle the tab.” He laughs. “I’d still like to take you to dinner, but…” He gestures to his clothing and holds out a dirty hand. “I’m not sure you want to be seen with me right now.”

  Maybe he is trying to get out of this. I’d be disappointed, of course. He is good looking and seems nice. “We can grab a pizza and go sit somewhere,” I offer and wait for him to make up and excuse.

  “Really?” His blue eyes light with hopefulness. “You wouldn’t mind?”

  He really does want to have dinner and I can’t help the giddiness bubbling inside, even though I try desperately to appear calm. “You know that little park area on Baxter Lane, right past the planation?”

  “The one that runs along the lake? The private drive?”

  “Yep. There’s a picnic area and beach on the lake. We can go there.”

  “That’s private property,” he reminds me.

  I laugh. “I know. My family owns it.” More specifically, me and my brothers own that small piece of land. It was my parents’ property but they never got a chance to build on it before they were killed. None of us will be building on that site now and turned it into a park like place to be used by all of the families for large gatherings. “Let’s call and order a pizza from Antonio’s and take it there.”

  He’s grinning. “Perfect. What do you like on your pizza?” He asks as he grabs his phone.

  “Anything but anchovies,” I answer, grinning. This is going to be so much better than sitting at Sullivan’s. Not that I don’t like Sullivan’s. But it was getting noisy with the Friday night dinner crowd, and at the lake, I’ll be able to have Brett Robak all to myself.

  He calls in the order and closes his phone.

  “I’ll meet you at Antonio’s and then you can follow me to the lake.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Then he completely surprises me by walking me to the driver’s side of my car and opening the door. I can’t remember the last time a guy opened a door for me. I think I’m liking this guy even more and more.

  She could have waited for me in the car, but Jacqueline follows me into Antonio’s and goes to the counter with me. The pizza isn’t ready yet so I duck into the bathroom. I can’t believe Jacqueline still wants to go out with me. Not only are my hands dirty, but there is a smudge of dirt on my forehead. Probably from wiping the sweat away. I grab paper towels and get them wet and soapy and try to scrub as much gunk from my face and hands as I can. Nothing can be done about the clothes, which are probably ruined, but at least the rest of me is clean.

  She’s standing with the box of pizza and a plain brown sack when I come back out.

  “You clean up well, Brett Robak.” She laughs.

  I go to the counter to pay for the pizza but she already has. “I could have gotten it.”

  “This date has already cost you a tire and two iced teas. It’s the least I could do.”

  I follow her out and help her into the little red car then get into my own and follow her to the lake. I
’ve only been back here once, and that was when I was riding with Uncle Quinn and he was showing me the area. It’s a very quiet, private community. Does Jacqueline live in one of those large lakefront houses? She said her family owned this land. Which made sense. She is a Baxter. One of those Baxters, who are rich and into the arts. They even run a summer art camp for underprivileged kids.

  Jackie pulls into a small dirt parking lot and stops her car. I follow and she takes me to a picnic table closer to the lake and puts the box down. It’s a great night. The temperature is in the upper seventies, the sky is blue and the lake calm.

  She opens the sack and takes out two sodas, plastic forks and knives, as well as napkins before opening the box. You can’t pick up a slice of pizza from Antonio’s. You need a knife and fork to cut into it. The lid of the box has a perforation and she tears it apart and we instantly have two, cardboard plates.

  I take a seat across from Jacqueline and wait for her to take a slice before taking one for myself.

  “So, tell me about yourself, Brett.” She gives me a jaunty grin. “Where are you from?” she asks before taking a bite of the pizza.

  “Buffalo. You?” I want to know about her. Not talk about me.

  “Originally from Chicago, but my family moved here when I was ten.”

  “Siblings?” I ask.

  “Two younger brothers. You?”

  “Four sisters. No brothers.” I look over into her light green eyes that remind me of the fresh sage mom used to grow in her garden. “If Ashley would have bothered to tell either of us anything, we could have had all these preliminaries out of the way.”

  She laughs. “She knows me too well and I would have found an excuse not to meet you. I assume you are a cop.”

  I don’t take offense. Most people don’t like cops, unless they need one.

  “At least you aren’t with the Sheriff’s department. Those guys are jerks.”

  I chuckle, but don’t argue. “They aren’t all bad.” Though a few are dicks. “And, I’m not a cop. I was just riding along today.”

  “I still got a ticket this morning.” She looks pointedly at me.

  “I’m not the one who stopped you,” I defend.

  Shit! Now I know why Uncle Quinn stopped her. That son of a bitch. “Did you bother to look at the ticket?”

  “No. Just shoved it in my purse. I’ll deal with it later.”

  “You might want to look now because it was a warning, not a speeding ticket.”

  Her eyes widen a smile breaks on that gorgeous face. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” I chuckle. “You were eight over but now I get why he stopped you.” And, I will be asking him about it.

  “Why?”

  I’m shaking my head before I answer. “The officer’s my uncle and we were at the rest stop, well, not to run radar. When I came out, he said he clocked the car and ran the license.”

  “Gee, I feel so special,” she says without humor.

  “No, he had already run the plate and knew the driver’s name.”

  “He picked me out on purpose?” She seemed rather offended and I can’t blame her.

  “He knew I had a date with you tonight. My guess is he wanted to get a look at you.”

  “And that’s the reason he stopped me?” She asked with disbelief.

  “You were speeding.”

  Jacqueline shrugs. “True.”

  “At least now I know why he was chuckling the whole time, and told me to have a great time tonight.”

  “What? You mean you didn’t know it was me then?”

  “No.” Unbelievable! “He didn’t tell me anything except that it was a warning, which shouldn’t put you into too bad of a mood.”

  “All so he could check me out before your date?”

  “Yep. At least I assume so.” I’m so going to kill my uncle for this. At least she’s laughing now and not pissed. Well, she did only get a warning. Had it been a ticket, this might not be such a pleasant conversation.

  “So, if you’re not a cop, and just ride along, what do you do?”

  I get the feeling she doesn’t like cops so I sure as hell don’t want to tell her what I really do. Instead, I just shake my head. “I’d rather know about you.”

  “I’ll make Ashley tell me.” She quirks an eyebrow. Then she takes a bite of her pizza while looking me over. “Four sisters, huh?” I guess we aren’t going to talk about her. “All younger? You the big brother and all.”

  “I wish.” I roll my eyes. “Two older and two younger.”

  She gives me a fake pout. “Poor middle child. Were you neglected and ignored?”

  I chuckle. “What? Have you heard that from your brother?”

  “No. Friends who were middle children.”

  “They probably had siblings of the same gender,” I begin to explain. “As the only boy, I had my own room, didn’t have to wear hand me downs because, well, that would’ve looked weird and got me beat up in school, and Dad liked that he wasn’t completely outnumbered in the household.”

  “What was it like being the only boy?”

  “It wasn’t so bad, after a while.”

  Jacqueline smirks. “Like when?”

  “Well, after I decided I liked girls.”

  She stops chewing and looks at me a little wary and leans back.

  “Not like that.” Geez what did she think I was? “They were girls dating guys, so, I’d sneak around listening to their conversations.”

  “You weren’t caught?” Her eyes widen with surprise. “I hated it when my brothers would try and overhear my conversations, and a few times they paid dearly. Of course, they were looking for blackmail material.”

  “I was too stealthy to be caught.” I wink. “I listened every opportunity I got, especially when guys pissed them off and why, what they liked, what they hated, all that. I figured with all this secret knowledge I’d get ahead of the game.”

  She starts to ask me something else but sirens blare in the distance and she straightens.

  “Those are close.” I look around but none of the houses are on fire. I don’t see any smoke or anyone in yards looking for an ambulance. I look back at Jacqueline and she’s standing, looking to the woods.

  The sirens blare louder. They are getting closer.

  “Where are they going?” I ask since she seems to have an idea.

  “The camp.”

  Before I can respond, she is dashing down a path through the woods and that’s when I first smell the smoke.

  Chapter Four

  A million thoughts and fears are going through my mind as I run down the path. Luckily it isn’t too dark to see right now. Brett is behind me. I can hear his feet hit the ground. I shouldn’t have run off without explanation but surely he understands that I just can’t ignore sirens going to the camp. There are a ton of campers and counselors there. Yes, we have plenty of adults to supervise, but that doesn’t really help my worry. My family owns this camp. I’m kind of an administrator. If anyone got hurt, or worse…I can’t even finish the thought.

  Besides counselors, there are therapists to see to the kids’ mental health. Most are at the end of their education and use this as part of their clinicals. I pray a kid didn’t wig out. Or one with gang affiliations didn’t decided to return to his or her roots instead of taking a break from the violence. They’ve all only been here a day and I don’t know them yet. Anything could have happened.

  The smoke burns my nose as I run into the open area. A fire was built in the pit. Actually, we have several pits for different groups. But this one, closest to me, had a huge fire. Much bigger than was safe and a tree is burning.

  If it spreads… I don’t even want to think about that either. “Get the kids up to the house now, and stay out of the drive,” I yell. Adults were already trying to do that, but some kids lingered back, watching. One particular kid was standing there grinning, his arms across his chest. A tough kid of about fourteen.

  Theo and a counselor were trying to put out
the fire with a garden hose, not that it’s doing much good.

  “Why is the fire even going yet?”

  “We were all at the picnic tables having supper when someone noticed the fire,” Theo explains.

  “Who did this?”

  “He did.” Theo points to the kid grinning at the fire. He was the only one left.

  I turn to march over to demand an explanation but Brett beats me to him. “Did you set the fire?”

  “Isn’t it awesome?” The kid is just looking at the flames, and there’s an eerie gleam in his eye.

  Fuck. We have a pyromaniac at the camp.

  The fire engines drive slowly drive onto the property, avoiding the other fire pits and buildings to get to the fire. We have three hydrants on the camp grounds because we are so far from the road, and with having kids here, and all of the woods, it’s a necessity that the family insisted upon. The hydrants pump water in from the lake, so it’s really convenient.

  One of the firemen jumps out of the rig and heads over to me. I point to the one closest to us .

  A couple of squad cars follow them in and stop. The first officer to exit is Deputy Bailey and I cringe. Of all the dicks on the county, he is the biggest one.

  “What happened?” he asks when he gets to me.

  “A fire was built too high.”

  “One of the kids I bet,” he says with disgust. “I’ve always said this camp was a bad idea. Bringing in those troublemakers.”

  I clench my jaw to keep from giving him a piece of my mind.

  “I can guarantee when my little Larry is old enough to go to camp, she won’t be coming here.”

  Yes, his precious four-year-old, Larry, named after her father, probably won’t ever be exposed to the world. Officer Bailey will keep her wrapped up in cotton over those pink frilly dresses and satin ribbons. Besides, little Larry doesn’t fit the qualifications for Baxter Art Camp.

  “So, which one of the delinquents did it?”

  “I didn’t see who. I just got here myself.” I’m not going to out the kid to Officer Bailey. I might have to someone else, but not this dick. Besides, we have our own system for dealing with the troublemakers. He’ll be left with a therapist and adult all night. I’ll put a call into the service that brought him and they’ll get him first thing in the morning. Even though we want the kids to have fun, we do have a one strike rule when it comes to damage to property or harming people. The fact that this kid set a fire will make it impossible to sleep until he’s gone. We can’t put any of the other campers at risk for one person.