Malicious Intent (Soulscape #5)

CH 8

"I don't care what she said—you don't pull your sister's hair." Marcy rubbed her eyes, ready to go home but not wishing to come home to quarreling twins. She adjusted the phone, weariness seeping into her voice. "Do you understand me, Lacy?"

"But Lisa said—"

"I heard you the first time, honey, and I will speak to her about it when I get home, but you know better than to pull her hair."

Silence.

"Don't you?"

"Yes, mom," Lacy mumbled.

"All right. Now stop being little terrors or Brenda won't want to babysit anymore."

The eight-year-old sighed. "Okay."

"I'll be home soon and then we can work it out. Until then—behave, brat." She smiled.

Lacy laughed weakly. "I will. But that don't mean Lisa will."

"You just worry about you." Movement in the office door drew Marcy's attention. Deputy Dean lounged against the doorframe, wearing his civilian clothes. Marcy absently glanced at the wall clock; his shift had ended over an hour ago. "Anyway," she murmured. "Just be nice to each other. We'll talk when I get there. I love you."

"Trouble with the girls?" Dean inquired as she ended the call.

"Not really. Just typical kid stuff." She avoided his direct stare and messed with the papers behind the counter. Dean made her uncomfortable—always had. She wasn't afraid of him, but he put off a vibe that made her squirm, especially when they were alone.

"Sounds like you could use a drink?" He gestured and smiled. "I'm buying."

This wasn't the first time he'd tried to get her to go out with him. "Thanks, but I'm not much of a drinker. And besides, I need to get home after work and settle the dispute between my girls."

"I'm sure they'll survive an extra hour."

"My babysitter is expecting me by six-thirty."

"Throw in a little overtime."

Marcy shook her head, continuing to avoid his eyes. "Can't afford overtime." She tensed when he entered the office and ambled to the counter, leaning on his elbows as he stared at her through squinted eyes.

"You don't like me, do you?"

"It isn't that, Deputy Dean." It was. "I'm just not interested in dating right now. Nothing personal." It was so personal.

"Who said anything about dating?" He snorted—and that's when she smelled the alcohol on his breath. Her unease heightened. "I'm not looking for a girlfriend, just a lovely lady to have a drink with me and..." He sighed hard, the corner of his mouth turning up suggestively. "... see where the night takes us."

Bradley Dean was not unpleasant on the eyes—if you didn't know him. Even so, the sudden images that leaped into her head of the two of them...

Marcy mentally shook her mind clear as her stomach twisted. "Well, the only place the night is taking me—is home to my girls."

Dean propped his chin in his palm, his gaze heavy. "I don't think you do like me. You never speak to me unless you have to, even though you talk to Sean all the time. You got a thing for him? Like 'em young, do you?"

"I don't have a thing for Sean," she replied, exasperated. "He's easy to talk to and he isn't always hitting on me. And he's just a plain nice guy."

"And I'm not?"

She finally met his stare. "With all due respect, Deputy Dean—no, you're not. You're a bigot, and I find that detestable."