“Ah shucks,” Jack Hermosa-Tyler said, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. He looked at the hand-written invitation, unable to muster the courage to decline. Yet, he worried what would happen if he accepted.
“That’s not exactly the response I expected,” Angelina Sparks replied disappointed after surprising the electrician at the church. Her cat-green eyes locked tight on the handsome hunk of a man before her.
He wore complimenting jeans and a red flannel shirt, with a tool belt strung around his waist. His perfect white smile was the nicest Angelina had ever seen on a man. Only his dark eyes sparkled more.
“I appreciate the invitation for dinner, but I don’t think it would be fair to you if I accepted.”
“What?” Her face twisted in confusion.
If she had been another woman, Jack might have stretched forth his hand to touch her arm reassuringly. But he was speaking to Angelina Sparks, the woman who seemed to appear everywhere as though she were stalking him. So, he stashed his hands deep into his pockets, avoiding temptation.
“I’m here to rewire the church, Ms. Sparks,” he informed, as though that might set her expectations straight.
“Certainly you need to eat,” she countered, still determined to captivate him with her cooking….and perhaps other things.
“I’m going home, to Minneapolis, after I finish with the church.”
“It’s dinner. Nothing more,” Angelina calculatingly said to ease his mind.
Suddenly interrupted by the noise of a clearing throat, the pair turned. Denise Purpose stood behind them, casting a friendly smile. “Hope I didn’t startle you two.”
Jack moved closer to the old fuse box, putting more space between him and Angelina. “Nope.” He answered for both of them.
“I came down to let you know the lights are out in the office.”
“I should have told you the power to that part of the church would be off this afternoon. Sorry.”
“Not a problem.” Denise turned towards Angelina. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“Came by to invite Jack to dinner.”
“Wonderful,” Denise said, dismissive of her husband’s previous warning about matchmaking.
“But the good electrician is hesitant. So, he will have to miss out on my chicken cacciatore.”
Shaking her head disapprovingly, Denise said, “Jack, you really should reconsider. This woman is an amazing cook.”
“I guess he thinks I’m offering more than food,” Angelina explained, causing Jack to feel utterly foolish.
“Okay, okay. I’ll try your chicken. But that’s it. Understand?”
“Great. I’ll see you at six.” With that, Angelina turned, waving to Denise as she departed the church.
Sheriff Willis Sparks found Luther while patrolling the quiet streets of Brightan. Luther slowly strolled near the convenience store, observing occasional passing residents with scrutinizing eyes.
Unsettled business, that’s what lured Luther to neighboring Brightan on a regular basis these days. He’d been a witness to the church crime, and with the perpetrators still on the loose, he felt morally responsible to do his part to ensure justice prevailed.
Luther devised a scheme. Not even Gloria, proprietor of the Grubby Cauldron, was privy to Luther’s intentions.
Willis slowed the sheriff’s car, honking to gain Luther’s attention. Then he pulled over and stopped.
Rolling down the passenger side window, Willis called out with a deep serious voice. “Luther, I need to speak to you.”
Hesitantly, Luther paused, his eyes darting from the convenience store to the hulking figure in the sheriff’s car.
“Come on. Get in,” Willis invited.
But Luther merely approached the car. Remaining outside the window, his eyes peered in with curiosity.
“We got a bit of a problem, Luther, and I’m hoping you can help us.”
Luther shrugged, the furrow between his eyes deepening in contemplation. How he could possibly help, he wondered. And with what?
“You probably heard the news about the plane crash near the landfill earlier today.”
Luther shook his head slowly.
“Well, a small plane crashed a couple hours ago. We’ve been trying to identify the pilot. But he has no identification or paperwork, other than an old picture of you.”
Luther’s mouth went agape.
“The pilot survived the crash, but he’s injured. From the markings of the plane, we learned the craft is registered to a business in Minneapolis. We’re still working on that, but in the meantime, it might be helpful if you would come with me to the hospital to see if you recognize this fellow.”
Confused on how a pilot from Minneapolis would have an old photo of him, Luther thought a moment longer. Finally the enticing mystery motivated Luther to act. Nodding, he got into the car.
© 2006 by author. All rights reserved.
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