The Suicide Club

“Anderson. Shannon Anderson. I don’t mind. It’s a matter of walking up the stadium steps and handing in the cash at the press box.”

“You have a security escort?”

“Uh…Not in Randolph,” Shannon said with a laugh. “Everybody in the stadium knows what we’re doing. Believe me, nobody’s gonna try to make off with the money.”

“Then if you’re ready, Ms. Sloan.”

“Lindsey.” Again she wondered if she’d lost her mind.

“Lindsey.”

Sitcom dialogue. She looked at Shannon, daring her to laugh at the silliness of it. Surprisingly, her friend was looking exceptionally pleased with herself, but not amused.

“I’ll see you Monday,” Lindsey said to her.

“Y’all have fun.”

God, could this possibly get any worse? Lindsey stepped to the back of the booth and opened the door. She stood there a moment, trying to control her sense of unreality.

“Ready?” Jace had walked around to retrieve her.

“It doesn’t have to be The Cove. There are a couple of places that are nearer.”

“In a hurry to get home?”

She wasn’t. She was just a little out of her element.

Which had nothing to do with the restaurant and everything to do with the man she was going there with. The man half the town would see her with, which would inevitably create more gossip. And after the pep rally today…

“Compared to most places around here, The Cove is expensive. And likely to be crowded.”

“Then maybe if we left now…”

Jace’s suggestion was logical. To keep resisting would only make her appear more immature than she did already.

“My car’s here.”

“We can pick it up after we eat.”

On the way to where? she wondered. That had sounded as if dinner wasn’t the only thing he had in mind.

“Ready?” Once more Jace took her elbow, guiding her toward the parking lot. It was beginning to be a habit. One she discovered she was in no hurry to have him break.

“Jace. That’s an unusual name,” Lindsey said. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before.”

Since he’d made this same explanation dozens of times, Jace didn’t even have to think about what to say. “Probably because my family made it up.”

They were headed out of the restaurant, where the food had been as good as advertised. Not his preferred style of cuisine, but definitely eatable. Which was more than he could say about some of the meals he’d had down here.

“Made it up?”

“My great-grandfather was James Christian Nolan. He was called James. My grandfather was James Christian Nolan, the second. Jimmy. They called my dad Trey, because he was the third. When I came along, somebody got the bright idea of calling me J.C., which became Jacey when I was a toddler. At some point, that got shortened to Jace. By the time I started to school, I thought that was my name.”

“Sounds like a story someone around here might tell.”

“What does that mean?” he asked opening the car door for her. He waited as she slid into the passenger seat.

“The whole name thing. We’re big on family down here. It just…I don’t know. It sounded…Southern.”

“Yeah. Well, I don’t think my family would qualify as Southern by any stretch, but for what it’s worth, we’re big on family, too.” He returned her smile, but the ease they’d found over the meal—talking about everything from football to food—seemed to have evaporated into the same sense of awkwardness that had marred the drive over from the stadium.

Jace closed the door and walked around the front of the car, trying to decide if it was worth doing what he’d planned. Probably better to play it by ear and see how she reacted.

He opened the driver’s side door and slid in behind the wheel. As he inserted the key into the ignition, Lindsey turned to look at him. He met her eyes, his questioning.

“Thank you for dinner.”

“My pleasure.” It had been, Jace acknowledged.

Once the initial awkwardness had dissipated, he’d found her easy to talk to. Of course, he’d avoided the subject he knew would set off all her defense mechanisms. That wasn’t something he could continue to do, not if he was going to get any of the information he believed Lindsey Sloan could provide. If she wanted to.

Decision made, he put the car into reverse. When he reached the highway, instead of turning back the way they’d come, he headed in the opposite direction. As if on cue, Lindsey offered the protest he’d been expecting.

“This isn’t the way to the stadium.”

She didn’t sound alarmed. It was more as if she thought that he, as a newcomer, might be confused about the location.

“I wanted to show you something.”

“Look—”

“Relax. Your virtue’s safe with me.”

He was no longer entirely sure of that. His original intent in asking to meet Ms. Sloan that day had been strictly business. He’d never expected to be attracted to a teacher.

Auburn hair should mean at least a few freckles. Instead, flawless ivory skin overlay a classically beautiful bone structure. The copper-colored eyes were open and direct.

So why the hell was she available on a Friday night? And, judging by her friend’s eagerness to push her to come with him tonight, most other nights as well?

“It’s been a long week,” she said, her voice no longer relaxed. “I enjoyed dinner, but I’d really appreciate it if you’d take me back to my car.”

“This won’t take five minutes. We’re almost there.”

He knew that as soon as he turned off the highway and onto the two-lane road, she’d recognize their destination. He could imagine her reaction.

Still, this had been the purpose of the entire exercise. He wasn’t about to let the fact that the prelude leading up to the main event had been enjoyable keep him from doing his job.

She didn’t bother to argue, which he also liked. In his experience, it was a rare woman who knew when to keep her mouth shut. The silence lasted exactly as long as he’d anticipated it would.