if she didn’t have the guts to open it up and let a smart, sexy guy into it.
“CHIEF, WE HAVE a problem, a very serious problem. I demand that you do something about it.”
Mike glanced up from the paperwork he’d been filling out—a requisition for some new computer equipment for use by the dispatcher—as his previously closed office door burst open without a warning knock. A member of the island’s governing council stormed in, bringing a cloud of righteous indignation and heavy perfume with her.
“Hello, Mrs. Franklin. Have a seat.”
He wondered if she heard the surprise in his voice. She was a pain in the ass, but she usually only barged in during daylight hours. It was now midevening, close to 9:00 p.m., and he’d expected a quiet Saturday night until his shift ended at ten. But apparently it wasn’t to be
He closed his folder, clicked his pen and put it down, watching as the tall, stick-thin woman with the blue-gray hair situated herself on the edge of the chair fronting his desk. She was probably his least favorite member of the council, being one of the stuffiest, most uptight people he’d met since moving here.
Mrs. Franklin was a descendent of one of the town founders and never let anyone forget it. She ran a general store up the street and considered herself the premiere businessperson of Wild Boar, having an opinion about everything and everyone. The other council members were men, and every one of them was terrified of her. He’d only been here a few months, but he was beginning to understand why. The woman had the constitution of a pit bull hidden in that gaunt frame.
“Now, what seems to be the problem?” he asked, tenting his fingers on his desk.
“Someone is peddling smut in Wild Boar,” she snapped.
His finger-tent fell. “Excuse me?”
“Filth is filling our streets, damaging the brains of our youth and threatening our entire way of life. Mainland corruption and vice have spilled into the water and landed on our shores.”
Wow. Quite a speech. And judging by the precisely chosen words and deliberate emphasis, a speech she’d rehearsed before coming in here. The violent nodding of her head and twitching of her mouth said she was working herself up to continue.
He cut her off before she could. “Why don’t you tell me what the problem is.”
“The problem is the insidious intrusion of pornography into our community.”
“Pornography?”
She jerked her chin up, her mouth tightening to the size of a quarter in disgust as she reached into her large purse and pulled out a towel-wrapped object. She dropped it onto his desk with a deep, pained grimace.
“See for yourself.”
He was almost scared to look. What, he wondered, would this prude of a woman constitute as pornography? Had somebody lent her the DVD set of the second season of Friends or something?
His curiosity aroused, he unfolded the corners of the towel, realizing right away the item was too small to be a DVD case. In fact, it was only about three-by-five inches, and was actually a book.
Reading the title, he held back a smile. Though the color illustration on the front was graphic, it was also artistic. As, he’d heard, was this particular book.
“Do you see?” she asked, tapping the tip of her finger on his desk with a sharp little peck. “Filth.”
“Ma’am, this is a copy of the Kama Sutra.” Not Big Tits and Dongs on Parade.
“I can read, Chief Santori,” the woman said, her tone as tart as her personality.
“I don’t think this book is considered pornography. In fact, it’s a revered, ancient Indian text, I believe.”
“Smut,” she said, leaning forward and whipping the book open. She swiped her fingers through the pages, angrily tapping at the illustrations. “Just look!”
“Umm. Interesting,” he said, trying to figure out how that could go there. “Where did you get this?”
“It was discovered on the very streets of our town.” She fanned herself with her hand. If she’d had some smelling salts on hand, he’d bet she’d use them to fortify herself for this horrible mission she’d undertaken. “A child found it. Can you imagine? A vulnerable child.”
Oh, hell. That was pretty awkward. “Who was it?”
“Annie Morgan’s son, Tim.”
Mike frowned. If he was remembering correctly, the Morgan boy was a senior in high school. Not exactly an innocent first grader emotionally damaged by glimpsing some artistically drawn sexual positions.
“Annie discovered it in his room.”
Huh. Tim Morgan should find better places to hide the stuff he didn’t want mommy to see. Hell, Mike and his brother Leo, who’d shared a room growing up, had pulled the grating out of their heater element to stash their Playboy magazines and condoms.
“How did the book come to be in your possession?”
“Well, Annie was hysterical and called her sister, who’s the hairdresser of the daughter of my bridge partner.”
Yadda, yadda. And the book had eventually found its way into the hands of the town’s arbiter of good taste and dignity.
“Did Tim say where he got it?” he asked, betting she’d say it was from another kid at school and that all of them were rotten little sinners.
“He said he found it on the ground in the municipal parking lot, right near the school! Can you imagine?”
A bell went off in Mike’s mind. He froze, his heart pounding as a strong suspicion washed over him.
Lindsey had come to the island with a case of erotic books and toys. He hadn’t noticed this one in her box of tricks, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t hers. Had she perhaps had this one in her car, and had it then fallen out in the parking lot?
Or, wait...the laptop bag. She’d dropped it yesterday when he’d followed her out of the coffee shop. She’d been flustered and in a hurry, digging for her keys. If, for some reason she’d put the book into the case, it was possible that it had fallen out without her realizing it.
“Well, what are you going to do about this?”
“Mrs. Franklin, there’s nothing illegal about somebody being in possession of this book. You can walk into any bookstore on the mainland and buy it.”
“Well, it’s illegal here!”
“No, ma’am, it isn’t,” he replied, knowing he was right. He’d memorized the town charter and local ordinances. There was nothing prohibiting sexy illustrations.
That was handy for old man McBride and what he had hanging up on the office wall of his gas station. Mike still hadn’t gotten over the man’s cartoon porn, and would never be able to watch a Disney movie again without remembering McBride’s artistic talents.
Mrs. Franklin shot him a warning glare, her deep frown lines going from each side of her pursed mouth down to her jaw. “I think I’m better acquainted with the law around here than you. I want the perpetrator found and arrested.”
His anger rising, he snapped, “Should we put up the stocks and have the villain displayed in the town square, too?”
The older woman jerked her head up, apparently shocked at being talked back to. Mike had always tried to remember to respect his elders—and his employers—but this was beyond ridiculous.
“You do realize you are still on probation here, Chief.”
“I couldn’t possibly forget it,” he admitted. The couple of months remaining in his agreed-upon