What the hell? “Go away!” He rolled onto his stomach and slammed a pillow over his head. Then he remembered what had happened yesterday. The scene at the restaurant. Morgan’s crash. “His” open-container violation. He’d bet everything he had that the pounding on his door had something to do with one of those things. And he was right. Alice stood on his front porch with her blue eyes blazing and her hands on her hips. “Were you drinking and driving?” She yanked open the screen door and shoved against his chest. His blood pressure spiked. Why was she always thinking the worst about him? “I wasn’t drinking, Alice.” He swatted her hands away. “Then why were you cited for an open-container violation? It’s all over the mayor’s office. Are you going to deny it?” If he thought he could get away with it, yes. But he knew damn well when he’d accepted the citation that this town was going to have a field day with it. He sank to the couch. “I’m not going to deny it.
