Scene of the Crime: Bridgewater, Texas. Carla Cassidy

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      “I’m fine,” she replied. “I’ve made contact with the local sheriff.”

      “How did that go?”

      “He’s an ass and not only doesn’t he want my help, but I also think he would gladly pay for a plane ticket to get me out of his town.”

      “Ah, one of those. So, what are you going to do? Are you heading back here to Kansas City?”

      “No way. I just found out I’m Miranda’s beneficiary, so I’ll need to hang around here and take care of her estate.”

      “And if you happen to catch a killer while you’re there, then it’s all good,” Sam said.

      She smiled into the phone. He knew her so well. “That’s the plan.”

      “You’ll call if you need anything or if you just want to talk?” he asked.

      “Of course,” she replied even though they both knew she would do no such thing. “Just do me one favor,” she said. “If somehow this jerk of a sheriff gets me behind bars, make sure you come and bail me out?”

      Sam laughed. “You know the smart thing to do would be not anything that will make him want to lock you up.”

      “Yeah, but when did I ever do the smart thing?” she said and with a murmured goodbye she clicked off. She dropped the phone back into her purse and stared at the door to the café.

      There was no way she believed that Miranda’s killer was somebody from her past. Jenna was the kind of woman who made enemies, not Miranda. Jenna worked a job that created enemies and if that wasn’t enough, her mouthiness and bad-ass attitude didn’t help. There was nobody from Miranda’s life before Bridgewater that Jenna could think of who would be a viable suspect.

      No, the killer was here, in this picturesque little town with its quaint shops and smiling people, people who hopefully liked to gossip. And a murder would definitely be fodder for all the gossipmongers in town.

      Matt Buchannan might want her out of his hair, out of his town, but Jenna didn’t intend to leave here until she’d exposed the killer.

      

      THE MOMENT MATT entered the café he saw her. Seated at the counter and chatting up Sally Cooper, one of the waitresses. Why was he not surprised?

      He approached the counter and smiled at Sally. “Hey, Sally, what’s the special today?” Although he didn’t look at Jenna he sensed her stiffening at the sound of his voice.

      “If it’s Tuesday it must be meat loaf,” she replied. “And we have your favorite dessert today, Sheriff. Michael whipped up a couple of lemon meringue pies this morning.”

      He slid onto the stool next to Jenna. “Great, then I’ll have the daily special and a piece of that pie.”

      It was only when Sally left the counter to put in the order that Matt turned to look at the woman seated next to him. “Learn anything?”

      She gestured toward the plate in front of her. “I’m scarcely halfway through my French fries, I haven’t been here long enough to learn anything yet.” She dragged a fry through a pool of ketchup, then popped it in her mouth. “Although I did manage to introduce myself to Sally.”

      Sally returned with the coffeepot and poured Matt a cup. “Anything new in the murder case?” she asked, her voice low as she leaned toward Matt.

      He could almost feel Jenna holding her breath to hear his reply. “Nothing that I can talk about,” he said.

      Sally shook her head. “It’s a scary thing. I’ve lived in this town fifty years and counting and I don’t remember a murder like Miranda’s ever taking place here. She was such a nice young woman, always smiling.” Sally shook her head again and walked away to fill another customer’s coffee cup.

      Matt took a sip of his coffee. He’d believed Jenna was as cold as they came when they had spoken about the murder. She hadn’t blinked an eye at the crime scene nor had she shown any emotion at all when sitting in his office.

      Until he’d told her she was Miranda’s beneficiary. It was only then that he’d seen a deepening of the blue of her eyes, a slight tremor in her full lower lip, and he’d realized she wasn’t as cold and unaffected as she’d pretended to be earlier.

      Sitting this close to her he could smell her, the pleasant scent of clean with a touch of something slightly citrusy.

      “Doesn’t your wife fix you a nice hot lunch?” she asked, breaking the silence that had welled up between them.

      “My wife?”

      “Yeah, I figured the picture on your desk of the pretty blonde was your wife.” She half-turned to look at him.

      “She was. She died five years ago.”

      “Sorry,” she replied.

      “Yeah, so am I,” Matt replied. He fought the impulse to scratch his scar, the scar he’d received while wrestling with a madman, the same man who had killed Natalie.

      “A man like you, surely you have a girlfriend who would be eager to fix you lunch, then.”

      “Agent Taylor, if I didn’t know better I’d think that was a backhanded compliment,” he said with a half grin.

      “Good thing you know better,” she replied. “And you might as well call me Jenna because I don’t intend on going anywhere anytime soon.” She picked up another fry. “You have to tell me something,” she said as she stared down at her plate.

      She looked back at him and in the depths of her eyes he saw a shimmer of pain. “I wasn’t given any real information before coming here, just that she’d been murdered. I need to know the details. They can’t be any worse than my imagination.” She broke off as Sally arrived with his plate of food.

      “I don’t want to talk about it here,” he said. He supposed there were some things he could tell her that wouldn’t compromise his investigation, although there were some details that hadn’t been shared with anyone and he wasn’t about to share those with her.

      “Then where?” she replied.

      “Why don’t we finish our lunch and then I’ll follow you back to your motel room. We can talk there without interruption, without anyone listening.”

      “Thank you,” she said and focused back on her plate.

      “Where are you from?” he asked.

      “A little town just north of Kansas City. I work out of the Kansas City field office.”

      “Married?”

      “Nope.”

      “Do you have a significant other?” he asked.

      “Yeah, a cranky cat that showed up half-dead on my doorstep.” She gazed at him with narrowed eyes. “What’s this? Be nice to the FBI agent and maybe she’ll go away?”

      “Something СКАЧАТЬ