Catching Fireflies. Sherryl Woods

      He regarded her with surprise. “You haven’t been there?”

      “Just a few times, and I’ve never had the catfish. Sullivan’s is a little beyond a teacher’s salary except for rare special occasions. Once in a while several of the teachers get together there to celebrate a birthday, but we usually opt for the Sunday brunch.”

      “Then Sullivan’s it is, and it’s my treat.”

      Her green eyes sparkled with more of that unexpected mirth. “Wouldn’t that almost constitute a date? I thought you were opposed to dating. That’s what Maybelle said.”

      He chuckled. “Maybelle has a big mouth, but to be honest, in this case, she wasn’t far off the mark. Not that she or any of the other people I’ve tried to head off have paid a bit of attention to me. I must not sound as convincing as I’ve meant to.”

      Laura held his gaze. “Something else to discuss over dinner.”

      J.C. frowned. The last thing he wanted to do was give Laura Reed the wrong idea. She seemed like a lovely, thoughtful woman, but she needed to understand that this dinner was strictly business. They had a mystery to solve about a troubled teen, nothing more. He’d found that laying out the ground rules usually kept expectations in check and avoided unpleasantness later.

      “Maybe we should stick to talking about Misty’s problem.” Even to his ears the comment sounded stuffy, but at least he’d made himself clear. He waited for her reaction. Her smile died along with the warmth in her eyes, but she merely shrugged.

      “Whatever makes you comfortable, doctor,” she said, suddenly sounding as distant and cool as he had. “Misty’s my first priority, as well.”

      The relief he should have felt at her response didn’t come. In fact, what he did feel was the faintest twinge of regret and disappointment. The sparks that had been missing during his lunch with Janice Walker reared up in I-told-you-so fashion, proving that his immunity sucked, after all.

      That wasn’t good, he thought, as he ushered her to the parking lot. It wasn’t good at all.

      He hoped he was just looking for a handy alternative who might get Debra to back off with her candidate, but he knew all too well that would be playing a dangerous and pretty selfish game. Tonight when he was home in his lonely bed, he’d have to examine his motives for inviting Laura Reed to dinner a little more closely…and then pray that the answers weren’t too disturbing.

      * * *

      Laura saw the speculative looks when she walked into Sullivan’s with J. C. Fullerton. Not only was she rarely seen around town with a date, but if he could be believed, neither was he. For a town that loved its gossip, their arrival together was bound to be big news.

      “Are you sure this was a good idea?” she murmured as they were shown to a table.

      J.C. frowned. “I thought you wanted to come here.”

      “I did until I realized that we were going to be on tonight’s menu right along with the specials.”

      He glanced around, then sighed. “So we are. Too late to hide now, Laura. The cat’s out of the bag.”

      She regarded him with surprise. “You think this is amusing? By tomorrow morning everyone in town will think we’re dating.”

      “Anybody in your life going to be furious about that?” he inquired.

      “Well, no, but…” She frowned. “It’s not a good idea. I don’t want to answer a million questions. Do you?”

      “Hey, you’re my second unplanned date of the day,” he admitted with a rueful expression. “If anyone’s going to be a hot topic over breakfast, it’ll be me. They’ll probably just feel sorry for you getting mixed up with an obvious scoundrel.”

      She stared at him incredulously. “What on earth are you talking about?”

      He explained about his nurse and her apparent mission to set him up. “End result? First thing tomorrow I have a date to go for a run. I’m not a hundred percent sure how it happened. The words just came out of my mouth, and there I was with a date.”

      Laura couldn’t help chuckling. “You’re really bad at not dating, aren’t you? Or is it that you’re easily manipulated?”

      “Not until recently. Debra’s sneaky. And then you showed up in my office and before I knew it an innocent invitation came out of my mouth and here we are. Two dates today and one more in the morning. My extended track record as a total stick-in-the-mud has taken a real hit.”

      “You don’t sound half as distressed as you should for a man who claims he doesn’t want to date,” she accused lightly.

      He shrugged. “Maybe I’m tired of my own company, after all. And we’re here to talk about Misty, so it’s not as if this is a real date.”

      “Tell that to everyone in this room currently on their cell phones reporting the news far and wide,” she said.

      She could certainly understand why everyone in town would be fascinated with J.C. and consider him a hot prospect. Though he wore his light brown hair in a crew cut, it was evident that it would curl out of control if it grew longer. His compassionate brown eyes were exactly the sort to inspire young patients to confide in him, as Misty almost had. At least she’d sought him out as a trustworthy adult. That had to say a lot about his character.

      When Laura glanced across the table, he was studying her, rather than the menu. The intensity of his gaze was disconcerting. She swallowed hard, then gestured toward the list of specials.

      “No catfish, so what are you having?”

      “The meatloaf’s another favorite of mine,” he said.

      She nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll have that,” she said and set the menu aside. “Now tell me what Misty said to you.”

      He winced. “I can’t. Doctor-patient confidentiality. I can tell you it was enough to worry me. How about you?”

      “She’s been skipping my class and one other.”

      He frowned. “But not all of them?”

      She shook her head. “No, it seems her math class and mine are the only ones.”

      “What’s the connection?”

      “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. My gut’s telling me she has a problem with another student, and those are the only two classes they’re both in. I’ll compare notes with Dave Jamison to see if there’s a student who’s a common denominator, but I’d be very surprised if there aren’t several. Small school, and only one AP English class, though there are two of the AP math classes. Not all advanced placement kids excel at both, but many of them do.”

      “So that’s not going to narrow it down by much, is it?” he said. “And you haven’t heard rumors about a problem with another student?”

      “Cal’s more likely to hear the school gossip than I am,” she admitted. “But he hasn’t heard a word.”

      “That’s not good,” J.C. said, his expression filled with unmistakable concern. “For Misty to reach out to me and want a note to get out of school, she’s on edge. I don’t like it.”

      “Neither do I,” Laura admitted. “I insisted that she be in class on Monday morning. We’ll see. Something tells me she won’t be. If so, I’ll have no choice but to go to the principal.”

      “And then?”

      “She’ll be suspended,” Laura said, dismayed. “I was so hoping to avoid that. It’s one thing when a kid breaks the rules for no good reason, but I don’t think that’s true in this instance. I think there’s a real problem.”

      “My gut’s telling me the same thing,” J.C. said. “I could speak to the principal with you,