Pandora’s outraged gasp was drowned out by her mother’s furious roar. But neither of them had even inhaled again before Caleb moved. He strode over, and without a word or warning, plowed his fist into Kendall’s face with a loud, bloody crack.

His hand grabbing his nose, the sheriff stumbled backward. He glanced, wild-eyed, at the crowd, then ran toward the beaded curtain leading to the café.

He didn’t make it, though. As usual, Paulie had plopped himself in the doorway to sleep. Pandora didn’t know if the cat sensed the drama, or if all the noise bothered him, but he jumped up on all fours and scurried between the sheriff’s feet, sending the man flying into the far wall with another loud crack to his face.

Cheers rang out, but Caleb didn’t smile as he strode over and grabbed the guy, hauling him off the floor. He started reciting something, probably the Miranda Rights, but Pandora couldn’t hear anything through the buzzing in her head.

She, along with what seemed to be half the town, watched the tall, dark and mysterious Hunter slap handcuffs on her newest employee while Caleb did the same to Sheriff Kendall. Her gut roiled with horror.

“Darling?”

She shook her head at her mother. She couldn’t talk about it. Not now. Not here, in front of all the gawking eyes. It had been bad enough last time, when she’d come home to hide from her relationship with a failed criminal and everyone in town had whispered about her stupidity.

Now they were all here to watch, live and up close, as she confirmed it.

“Darling, come on. Let’s go home. We’ll have a nice pot of tea and some chocolate cake.”

“No,” Pandora said, sniffing as a single tear rolled down her cheek. She watched Caleb, one hand on the sheriff’s back and the other on the gun holstered at his hip, stride out the door. He never looked back. “No. I don’t think I ever want chocolate cake again.”

13

“MORE TEA?” CASSIOPEIA asked, holding up her prized Hummel teapot she used for tea-leaf readings.

Her hands wrapped around her almost-empty cup, Pandora shook her head. “I should get back to the store. Or just go home.”

Fifi had been a mess, blubbering and bawling as if she’d been the one arrested. Finally, calling it an executive decision, Cassiopeia had declared that the store be closed for the day.

“You need to go talk to Caleb, is what you need to do.”

Pandora cringed, taking a sip instead of answering. The still-warm tea soothed her tear-ravaged throat. Then she stared into her cup, wishing she could find answers in the floating dregs.

“You’ve proven that you’re a strong woman who knows what she wants and can make it happen,” her mother continued, her voice both soothing and commanding. “Are you going to just let him go?”

“He lied to me. Worse, he made me look like a fool in front of everyone.” Just remembering sent a hot flush of horrified embarrassment rushing through her. The whispers, the stares. It had been terrible.

“Dear, do you really think people care about that? They’re so busy talking about Kendall that you’re not even going to enter their heads. I’d imagine that’s why Caleb played that scene out the way he did.”

Pandora tore her eyes off her murky tea leaves to frown at her mother. “What do you mean?”

“He could have asked all those questions at the sheriff’s office. Much easier, too, I’d imagine. He did that, made that big scene, just to make sure that people knew the drugs had nothing to do with you. That they had plenty of other things to talk about instead.”

Pandora stared, first in shock, then in dawning hope. Her heart raced and she bit her lip. “Do you really think so?”

“What I think is that you need to go ask Caleb.”

She was scared to. Pandora dropped her gaze back to her cup and took a shaky breath. She was afraid to hear that this had all been a scam on his part. That he’d used her.

Her mother gently laid her hand over hers and squeezed. “Darling, you have to face this. You can’t move forward until you do.”

“Is this why your clients all love you so much?” Pandora asked with a teary laugh. “Because you’re so good at telling them what they need to do in a way that makes them feel great about themselves?”

“You mean because I’m a nice bully? Of course. Now listen to your mother and go get the answers you need.”

Ten minutes later, her face washed and makeup reapplied, Pandora stood at the door of the sheriff’s office. Her hand shook as she reached for the handle, so she pulled it back. Maybe she should wait. Come back later. Or better yet, take the week off from the store and wait to see what people really thought about the situation.

Then she realized that none of that mattered. All she cared about was what Caleb thought of her. So she took a deep breath of the cold night air and forced herself to grab the handle. Her knees were just as shaky as her hands, but she stepped through the entry.

Caleb wasn’t there. She looked around the sterile, tan room, with its two desks and a few chairs scattered about. The walls and floor were bare, and the place smelled like burned microwave popcorn.

“Wow, Kendall is a sneaky liar and a lousy decorator,” she muttered.

“Don’t forget power abuser and drug pusher.”

She jumped, her gaze flying across the room. Framed in the door leading to what she assumed must be the cells was Mr. Tall, Dark and Mysterious.

“Um, hi,” she said to Hunter, shuffling nervously from her right foot to her left. “I came to see Caleb…?”

“He’s finishing up the interrogation. He’ll be out in a few minutes.”

She nodded, then looked back at the door. Should she leave? She’d definitely rather, but something about Hunter’s stare made it hard to run away.

She glanced back at him, then away again. Twining her trembling fingers together, she stared aimlessly around the ugly space.

“Would you like to sit?” Hunter asked, now leaning against the door frame in what she supposed was a casual pose. Except that he still looked as if he could kill a person with his pinkie.

“Um, no. I’ll just… Um, maybe I should come back later?”

“Stay.”

Command or request? Did it matter? Pandora bit her lip, then stepped farther into the room so she could set her purse on one of the desks.

“I’ve heard about your store. Intriguing. I didn’t realize your cat was psychic, too, though.” His tone was conversational, but his blue eyes danced with laughter.

A giggle escaped, and with it, some of Pandora’s tension. Who knew, superhottie had a sense of humor. It was hard to look at him for too long, though. He was so intense. If she wasn’t in love with Caleb, she’d be stuttering and blushing and weaving all sorts of sexual fantasies.

“Bonnie’s not psychic. She tilts her head because she had a series of ear infections when she was younger,” Pandora replied, finally relaxing enough to lean against the desk. Then she paused, thinking back to both the cats’ unnatural behavior toward Russ and Kendall. “I mean, as far as I know, she doesn’t actually read minds.”

His face impassive but his eyes still laughing, Hunter nodded and walked over to a small refrigerator and took out a bottle of water. He handed it to her with a small smile.

Wow. Maybe he wasn’t that scary.

Pandora bit her lip, then unable to help herself, she blurted out, “What does Caleb do for you? He’s…what? A cop? DEA agent? Why does everyone think he’s an unemployed no-good drifter?”

“Because I am an unemployed, no-good drifter.”

Pandora only jumped a little before turning to see Caleb standing in the doorway. Hunter just slanted his gaze toward the other man, then nodded and headed out the front door.

His hand on the knob, he turned back and told Pandora, “It was good to meet you. We’ll talk again.”

Her heart slamming against her chest, Pandora gave a jerky nod. She waited for the door to close before asking, “What’s going on?”

“Russ Turnbaugh and Jeff Kendall are under federal arrest. We’ve commandeered the sheriff’s holding cells until a team arrives to take them in.”

“Federal?”

“Hunter’s with the FBI.”

“And you?”

“I was with the DEA, but I quit a while ago. Right now I’m exactly what I’ve said. Unemployed and clueless about what I’m going to do next.” His words were as guarded as his expression. He looked as if he wasn’t sure if she was there to talk or to beat the living hell out of him.

Pandora nodded, then looked away. A part of her wanted to beg him to make sure whatever it was, he did it with her. Another part, burned one too many times, warned her to hold back until she had the truth. All the truth.

“Are you working for the FBI, though?” Her chin high, she crossed her arms over her chest and tried to look in control, instead of on the verge of being a blubbering mess again.

“Hunter was my college roommate.” He sounded less cold, more like himself now. She could actually see him starting to defrost. Whether it was because she wasn’t hitting him, or he was shedding his interrogation-cop attitude, she wasn’t sure. “We’re friends. I was doing him a favor.”

“I didn’t realize the FBI looked into small-town drug problems.”

“Not usually.” He shrugged. “But there were extenuating circumstances in this case, and the drugs are a new blend. Something they wanted to stop before they gained a foothold.”

“And you offered to help out of the goodness of your heart? Because you were bored being all unemployed and clueless?” Pandora winced, not sure where the anger was coming from.

“Don’t blow this out of proportion. The bad guys are caught and they won’t be using you or your store any longer. You’re cleared and everyone knows it.”

Cassiopeia was right. He had staged that little scene for her benefit. Pandora’s heart pounded, emotions flying about so fast she didn’t know if she should be thrilled, grateful or simply furious.