The Hero’s Sin by Darlene Gardner

walked back and forth over the hardwood floors of her office. She’d gotten quite a workout on the hilly three-mile jog she’d taken to start the morning and needed to cool down gradually.
    She was not pacing.
    She was not nervous about meeting Michael in—she checked her watch—less than fifteen minutes.
    She was not going to forgive him for last night simply because she wanted to kiss him again.
    After she gave him a key to the downstairs, she’d work from upstairs until he was finished with the job so she didn’t have to see him any more than was necessary.
    “At least I’m not a complete liar,” she muttered aloud. “Because I do want to kiss him again.”
    Through the open blinds of the window facing the street she spotted a silver-colored Cadillac pulling up to the curb. A small, trim man of about sixty wearing a dark business suit, his gray hair slicked back from an angular, stern face, got out of the car. Then he headed purposefully toward her office.
    “Oh, crap.” Her hand flew to her ponytail, but taking down her hair wouldn’t come close to making herself look presentable.
    She plastered on a professional smile when he entered the office, as though she greeted every potential client while wearing gym shorts, a sleeveless tank top and running shoes.
    “Hello. I’m Sara Brenneman.” She stopped short of offering her hand, but only because she was sure it was damp. “As you can see, I haven’t yet officially opened my practice. However, I am available for consultation. Although not, obviously, right now.”
    He didn’t return her smile. Neither did he bother to pull the door shut behind him.
    “I’m not here to hire you, young lady,” he said gruffly. “I’m here to welcome you to Indigo Springs.”
    He didn’t sound very welcoming.
    “Thank you,” she said.
    “I’m Quincy Coleman.”
    Quincy Coleman. She’d heard his name before, it seemed in relation to Michael. Yes, that was right. The men she’d overheard outside the church had been speculating about what Coleman would do when he found out Michael was back in town.
    “It’s very neighborly of you to come by,” she said.
    He stood statue-still, his body between her and the open door so he blotted out the sunlight. “Indigo Springs is overrun with tourists in the summer, but it’s still the kind of place where neighbors look out for neighbors.”
    His words should have sounded kind, but they had a hard, unpleasant edge.
    “That’s one reason I moved here,” Sara said.
    “Good to hear, because I’ve got a friendly piece of advice.” His angry eyes bored into hers. “If you want to be successful in this town, stay away from Michael Donahue.”
    “Excuse me?” She’d sensed he was driving at something unpleasant, had even guessed it involved Michael, but could never have anticipated the stark hatred emanating from him.
    “Everybody knows you were with Donahue at Johnny Pollock’s wedding and that you were at his aunt’s house last night.”
    Her spine stiffened. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
    “People will give you the benefit of doubt since you’re new in town,” he continued, as though he hadn’theard her. “They’ll figure you didn’t know what he was, but that’ll only last so long.”
    His manner was so presumptuous she should have asked him to leave, but curiosity stopped her. Michael’s certainty that last night’s vandal had targeted only him made Sara feel she was missing half the story.
    “What do you mean?” she asked. “What don’t I know?”
    “He didn’t tell you, did he?”
    “Tell me what?”
    “That he’s a murderer.” Coleman’s features twisted with disgust so tangible she felt as though it was spewing from him.
    Sara backed away, unwilling to get sprayed.
    “I don’t believe you,” she said.
    Michael was a hero. She’d seen him rescue that little boy from certain death with her own eyes.
    His discordant laugh was without mirth. “What is it about