Regina Hart

Trinity Falls


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uniforms. He remembered mugging for that photo. Quincy’s father had taken it shortly after their championship game. Ean had kept a copy of that same picture on his desk at the law firm. The school had nicknamed the friends “the Terrible Trio”: quarterback, running back and tight end. An unstoppable offense.

      That picture hardened Ean’s resolve to repair one of the most important relationships in his life. “When I was in New York, we e-mailed or called each other a couple of times a month. Everything seemed fine. Now that I’m back, you’re acting as though I’ve stolen from you. What’s changed?”

      Quincy crossed his arms over his chest. “Things can’t go back to the way they were.”

      That was a familiar theme in Trinity Falls. “Why not?”

      “We aren’t the people we used to be. We’ve grown up. We’ve changed.”

      Ean assessed his friend like any witness on the stand. Whatever was eating at him, Quincy wouldn’t give up the information easily. “What are you afraid of going after?”

      “What are you talking about?” Quincy’s words snapped with impatience.

      “At the bookstore Tuesday, Darius said I’m not afraid to go after what I want. What does he think you’re afraid of?” Ean caught the shift in Quincy’s gaze. A moment of uncertainty that revealed Ean was on the right track.

      “I’m not afraid of anything.” Quincy’s mouth tightened as though he didn’t want to divulge more than he already may have.

      “We’re all afraid of something.”

      “What are you afraid of?”

      Ean clenched his teeth. Why had he opened this door? “Right now, I’m afraid I waited too long to come home.”

      “Maybe New York is your home now.”

      Those words coming from his friend hurt. “What do you want? Maybe I can help.”

      Quincy’s expression grew mulish. “I don’t need your help.”

      They were at an impasse. Ean stood. “Let me know if you change your mind. Your friendship means a lot to me, Q. It’s one of the reasons I came home.”

      Surprise relaxed Quincy’s tight features. Ean turned to leave the office. But he wasn’t calling the game. This was only a time-out. He’d come home to return to the people and the things that mattered most to him. But had he waited too long?

      “Dracula is drunk.” Megan chewed the words like rocks in her mouth.

      “Stan? Are you sure?” Ramona tapped Megan’s shoulder with the wand she used as part of her witch costume. “Perhaps you should check again.”

      “I’m. Positive.” Megan could barely breathe through her anger. She imagined breaking Ramona’s wand into bits.

      Ramona waved the wand dismissively. “What do you want me to do about it?”

      Megan’s eyes stretched wide. “You hired Stan Crockett—the town drunk—to read Halloween-themed children’s books to our customers’ kids.”

      It was the third Saturday of October, the day Books & Bakery hosted its annual Halloween costume party and children’s story time. Megan heard the virtual flushing of her afternoon event as it plunged down the figurative toilet. Ramona either couldn’t hear it or didn’t care.

      “Nice costume party, Megan.” Quincy’s comment was barely audible above the angry buzzing in Megan’s ears and the laughter of children enjoying the Halloween games arranged around the store.

      Megan turned to find Quincy standing in a semicircle with Darius and Ean. The Terrible Trio reunited and standing in her grandparents’ bookstore. She’d stepped back in time. However, each man had donned the bare minimum to be considered in costume. Quincy had pulled on a football jersey and a pair of faded blue jeans. Darius wore a gray stitch fedora. The name tag on his teal sweater read: MEMBER OF THE PRESS.

      Megan stared at Ean’s blue jeans, black jersey and the white bandanna tied around his head. “What are you supposed to be? A pirate?”

      Ean adjusted the bandanna. “Not what, who. Deion Sanders.”

      Did he truly believe the bandanna alone pegged him as the Hall of Fame former football player? Megan feared her eyes would burst from her head. “Is this the best the three of you could do? Seriously?”

      “What are you supposed to be? An Egyptian princess?” Ean’s warm gaze slid over her.

      Megan laid her damp palms on the skirt of her white lamé dress. “The goddess Isis.”

      She reached behind her to spread the gold theatrical cape or “wings.” The heavy black eyeliner had been a pain to apply, even harder than wielding the hot comb to straighten the curl from her hair.

      “I like it.” The intensity in Ean’s olive eyes made her stomach muscles quiver.

      “Thanks.” Megan nervously checked the gold band wrapped around the top of her head. She felt the others staring between her and Ean, and fought the urge to fidget.

      Quincy turned to Ramona. “Where’s your costume?”

      Ramona’s eyes narrowed. “I wish this were a real wand. I’d turn you into a toad. Oh! Too late.”

      “Ouch.” Darius chuckled.

      “Afternoon, everyone.”

      Megan turned at the newcomer’s greeting. “Sheriff, is that your costume?” She clenched her teeth to keep from snarling.

      Sheriff Alonzo Lopez glanced at his tan shirt, black tie and spruce green gabardine pants. His cocoa eyes looked confused. “It’s my uniform. I’m on duty.”

      Megan cut Darius a look for his inappropriate laughter. “I’m sorry, Sheriff.”

      “No need to be.” His calm acceptance soothed Megan. “I took the afternoon shift so my deputies with families could take their children to your party. It’s a fun event for the kids.”

      “That was nice of you.” Ramona gave him a sweet smile.

      The older man’s shrug was uncomfortable. “Doreen looks very nice in her movie star outfit.”

      “Doreen’s spoken for.” Darius’ smile teased the older man.

      “Can’t a man appreciate a pretty woman without having any designs on her.” Alonzo turned to Ean. “No disrespect intended.”

      “None taken.” Ean’s tense tone belied his words.

      Alonzo nodded. “Well, I’d better get back to work.”

      “Thanks for stopping by, Sheriff.” Megan laid her hand on his shoulder. “It’s always good to see you.”

      Alonzo nodded before strolling away.

      Ean caught Megan’s attention. “Dracula was singing inappropriate bar songs to your customers.”

      Megan threw up her hands. “Oh, for Pete’s sake.”

      Ean caught her arm as she started past him. “My mother brought him into the kitchen. She’s giving him coffee.”

      The warmth of his touch through the sleeve of her costume made her shiver. Megan exhaled before addressing Ramona. “What were you thinking to hire Stan Crockett to read to a bunch of kids in our store?”

      Quincy gaped at Ramona. “You hired him?”

      Ramona’s ebony eyes were innocent. “He needed money.”

      “To buy alcohol.” Megan wanted to throw back her head and scream. Why wouldn’t Ramona understand?

      “It’ll be OK, Megan.” Ean released his hold on Megan’s arm.

      She bit her lip to keep from protesting