then been shortened to simply Lulu. By her senior year, some of the kids hadn’t even known her actual name. Thankfully, after graduation it had died away. She’d never have guessed Jax Carlisle knew it or would remember it.
She wasn’t that awkward teen any longer, and she wasn’t going to let Chief McHottypants get to her. “My name is Marissa. And if there’s nothing else…” She pushed him out the door. “Good night.”
Jax moved aside to avoid getting hit by the door. Once Marissa locked it, she turned, headed back through the small shop and never looked back. The lights went out, leaving the bakery barely lit, and all the while he stood in front of the shop holding a box of desserts.
What had he said that had made her so mad, so quickly? And there was no doubt he’d upset her. He frowned. She had been one of the few students who hadn’t fallen over themselves to be near him. At the time he’d soaked up the attention, taken advantage of his godlike status.
It had made him cocky back then. Now he hoped no one remembered.
When the call had come in to the station, her name hadn’t immediately registered. He’d known several Llewellyns growing up. Two boys, both older than him, and two younger twin girls. They’d lived on the other side of the tracks. Literally. The railroad separated the tax brackets in Oak Hollow. His mom had never out-and-out forbade him to hang out with someone from “the other side,” but as they didn’t spin in her circle—and couldn’t pay the ridiculous annual club dues—she didn’t acknowledge them.
It was his mother’s narrow-mindedness that had kept him away for so many years. Partly because of how wrong it was and partly because his senior year of high school he’d started to buy into it all. When he’d gone off to the University of Texas he’d been a nobody. The school was huge and he’d melted into the crowd like every other freshman. At first it had grated on his over-inflated ego. Then he’d realized how hard it’d been to keep up the pretenses the Carlisles were “obligated” to foster.
Once he’d gotten out of school, Austin was as good as place as any to put down roots. He’d gotten a basic degree and wasn’t entirely sure where he wanted to go with his life once he graduated, but law enforcement ran in his blood. It was too blue-collar for his mother to ever acknowledge, but in the back of his mind he’d always entertained the idea of joining the force, so he decided to give it a try. Once he got out of the academy, he’d known it was a great fit for him and he’d settled into his job and his adopted town.
As the years went on, though, there were days when he longed for the familiarity of his hometown, his friends and, even if it was hard to admit, his family. He had stayed in touch with several of his true friends, the ones who had stuck around when his mother cut him off for not following in the long Carlisle steps.
Then when Otto Kendal had told Jax his father was set to retire as the Oak Hollow police chief, Jax immediately inquired about his replacement. It had taken several interviews, but the mayor had finally decided to go with someone who was familiar with the town rather than a couple of the other applicants with a slight experience advantage. Both of those men were from out of state and that had been Jax’s ace in the hole despite his mother’s objections. Had the mayor hired him just to spite Bunny Carlisle?
No surprise, he’d gotten a call not ten minutes after he’d signed the contract. His mother had heard the news before he’d had a chance to tell her. Not that she’d have been able to talk him out of the job. She hadn’t been able to get him to quit any of the years he’d spent on the Austin police force. She was happy that he’d moved back home, but in the weeks since his relocation, she’d been vocal about his choice of profession.
When he was a teen, he’d let her influence him. He’d long since broken that habit.
He shook his head. He’d expected frequent trips down memory lane while he settled back into the routine of life in Oak Hollow. He just hadn’t expected it to take up most of his waking thoughts. Especially when he’d been called to his old stomping grounds. He’d hung out on Flower Tree, the main street of Oak Hollow since its founding in the early nineteen hundreds. In high school, there’d been a burger chain, a donut shop and a florist. The florist was still there, but the two staples from his teens had been transformed into a chic woman’s boutique and the cupcake shop.
Jax had been up at the police station when the call came in from Marissa Llewellyn. Hell, he’d been up at the station late almost every night the past week. He hadn’t anticipated the amount of paperwork he had to do on a daily basis. Working as a detective in Austin for the last six years had prepared him to take over some aspects when Chief Kendal retired. It hadn’t prepared him for the mounds of paperwork that came along with it.
The department had a small staff. Six full-time officers and two reserve officers as well as two dispatchers. He and all the officers were on call even when they were off. One month into his term, he’d gone on several routine calls, mostly small-town non-emergencies. The crime rate in Oak Hollow was well below average, and this was the first B and E call for him here if you didn’t count the fact that the “suspect” snuck out before he could get so much as a look at him. And the fact that nothing appeared to be missing save a single cupcake…
He walked back to the old SUV cruiser he’d inherited with the job. He set the cupcakes on the seat beside him, then set his hat atop the box. Back in high school, he wouldn’t have been caught dead wearing a cowboy hat. Going off to college had changed so many things in his life—all for the better as far as he was concerned.
Another light went out in the shop, but no further movement. He scanned the lot. There were no other cars. He guessed Lulu— no, he’d better think of her as Marissa—had parked around back. He drove around to the back of the shop just as she was shoving a trash bag into the dumpster. She jumped when he neared her. He rolled down the window. “Didn’t mean to startle you. You heading home?”
She shook her head. The long dark ponytail swished over her shoulder. “I have to be back up here in a few hours anyway, so no point in wasting gas.”
Jax shifted the SUV into park. “I came to take a better look at the door. See how the guy might’ve got in.”
Marissa glanced between him and the door then back again. “Oh, sure.” She let the door swing shut. “Knock yourself out.”
Jax unclipped the flashlight from his belt and examined the door. He’d caught a glance of it as it swung shut. It was an ancient push handle exit, one small lock and a plain handle. He squatted. “How long has this hole been here?” He ran his finger over a small drilled hole just under the handle.
Marissa squinted and leaned over his shoulder. Her dark brown ponytail brushed the edge of his shoulder, she was so close. “No idea.” she said. “Why?”
Jax scanned the area around the door and found an umbrella skeleton. “Is the door locked right now?”
“Yeah.” Her warm breath feathered over his cheeks. He had to fight to keep his attitude professional. Having her lean over him like this was damn distracting. Not to mention her smell—all sweet and sugary.
She reached out and traced her finger over the hole. “It stays locked. Automatic. When it closes.” After a moment her eyes rounded and she stood away from him. “The hole means something?”
He nodded, then picked up the umbrella skeleton and shoved it through the hole. He gave it a little wiggle, then pulled. The door opened enough for him to get a hold of the edge and open it. The broken umbrella was open and pushed down the bar.
Marissa fisted her hands at her sides and let loose a low growl. “I’ll be damned.” She rubbed a hand over her crooked ponytail. Little strands of hair, loose from the band, stuck out every which way. “Wonder how much that’s going to cost me to repair or replace?”
Jax held the edge of the door until she came over and set her foot alongside the bottom, then he walked the umbrella over to the dumpster and dropped it inside. “On the upshot, if the kid had wanted to rob you, you’d be cleaned out by now. Ten times over, probably.”
“That