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“Here we go again.”
    “Don’t start with me, pal,” the deputy said, shaking a meaty finger at Dylan. He narrowed his beady eyes until they were mere slits in his fleshy face. “I’ll bust you like a ripe melon.”
    Dylan grimaced. “You have a real talent for visual imagery. Have you ever thought of writing children’s books?”
    A ferocious scowl was his only answer.
    Dylan tugged down the bottom of his waistcoat, clearing his throat as he prepared to launch into his explanation. “You see, it’s this way, Deputy. I was on my way to a science fiction theme party, dressed as Dr. Who. Tom Baker’s Dr. Who, to be precise. He’s my personal favorite. Though I’m also quite fond of Peter Davison’sportrayal of the doctor.” At the deputy’s growl of impatience he decided to skip the details and get on with the story. “Anyhow, I stopped to assist this lovely lady with her car, and a huge misunderstanding ensued.”
    “You know Jayne Jordan?” Alaina blurted out.
    Dylan nodded.
    “I should have guessed,” she mumbled. If there was an oddball within fifty miles—and there were plenty in northern California—Jayne knew him. If they happened to be single men, she usually tried to coerce Alaina into going out with them. Jayne, who was a widow, was a notorious matchmaker when it came to her friends. Alaina shuddered to think of what oddball might have been awaiting her at the party tonight. Getting arrested may have had its upside after all.
    “You’re a friend of Jayne’s?” Dylan asked. He had already surmised as much, but her nod of confirmation still surprised him. Alaina Montgomery didn’t strike him as being the type to hang out with someone of Jayne’s … uniqueness.
    “We went to college together.”
    “So what say we get this Jayne broad downhere to vouch for you?” Deputy Skreawupp suggested. He took a bottle of triple-strength aspirin out of a desk drawer and shook out half a handful.
    Alaina perked up. “You’re not going to throw me in the clink?”
    “Lady, you’re more trouble than you’re worth. I don’t need it,” he said flatly. “I’ll let you both off with a fine for creating a public nuisance.”
    Alaina opened her mouth to protest. Suddenly Dylan was beside her, clamping a hand over her denial. Sliding down next to her, he smiled charmingly and whispered, “Quit while you’re behind, Princess. So far, you’ve insulted his family name, called him incompetent, and threatened to sue. All in all, I’d say we’re getting off lucky.”
    She sat back in her chair and absently rubbed her hand over her chin where Dylan had touched her. Calling Jayne in wasn’t necessarily a great idea. Who knew what she would come in dressed up as? On the other hand, there really wasn’t anyone else she could call. Of the trio of friends who had moved to Anastasia, Faith was easy to get to know, and Jayne was the kind of person who befriended people on sight. Alaina tended to holdherself a little apart from people. Instinctively wary of relationships, she could count her close friends on her fingers. Consequently, she knew virtually no one in her new home.
    Faith would have been the one to call. She radiated trustworthiness. Besides, her husband-to-be was a former top-notch Federal agent. Deputy Screwup would have melted under the power of Shane Callan’s stare. But Faith had gone to Maine to meet Shane’s family.
    The only other person Alaina knew well at all in Anastasia was the woman who rented out the other half of her duplex, her new secretary, Marlene Desidarian. Having the secretary of her soon-to-open law practice come down essentially to bail her out of jail did not seem a prudent business strategy.
    That left Jayne.
    “Deal,” she said, sending the stony-faced deputy a dazzling smile.
    Dylan had watched her as she’d contemplated. He had practically heard the well-oiled wheels whirring in her brain as she considered strategies. A grudging admiration knotted with a sense