Palmerite.
I head for the doors. If Beau left me here, so help me…
With a whoosh, the dry, air-conditioned breeze of Seaside Oasis is consumed by the sweltering heat of the outdoors. It’s not as overwhelming as it was when I first got here, but it’s still a sucker punch.
My gaze flits to the cop cart, parked in the same haphazard way we left it when we arrived, the light still flashing on the roof. It’ll probably run out of battery soon.
Whereis?—
“Hey!”
I yell out and whirl around, my heart skyrocketing into my throat.
Beau is right in front of me, grinning like he just pulled off the biggest heist in history.
“You—” But words don’t suffice, so I charge him and start pummeling his arm.
He laughs and backs up, leaning away to protect himself. “Hey, hey, hey. You’re assaulting a police officer, ma’am.”
“Part-time police officer,” I say through gritted teeth, notletting up with my punches, even though the solid wall of muscle my fists hit is unassailable.
He grabs my wrists and pulls me flush against him, his eyes sparkling with energy and fun as he looks down at me. “How does full-time in one of my holding cells sound?”
“I was provoked,” I say, wondering when the air will decide to pay a visit to my lungs again. It’s just the after-effects of his scaring me. It has nothing to do with the impulse to yank that beautiful face toward me and kiss the smile off his smart mouth.
“Do you have anyone who can corroborate your story?” His grip on my wrists is firm but not tight. I should yank them away, but I don’t. A Sawyer doesn’t back down from a Palmer. Not even when the Palmer’s aftershave makes her feel like she might swoon like an 18th-century lady.
“Security cameras,” I say.
“On private property. If the owners won’t cooperate, that would require a warrant.”
“Well, the owners are averysketchy family, so…”
“Really? I’ve heard they’re salt-of-the-earth type.”
Movement catches my eye, and I turn my head as an old woman shuffles toward the doors, her eyes watching us with disapproval.
I pull my hands away, and Beau releases me easily. I wait for the lady to straggle through the doors, shooting her a friendly smile and hoping she’s not friends with Harold.
“Is your brother back yet?” I ask Beau.
He shakes his head and glances at his watch. “Should be in the next fifteen minutes, though, based on his text.”
“He knows about the fire alarm, I assume?”
Beau nods, watching me.
“What about your dad?”
“Not yet.”
I glance behind me through the glass doors. Harold and a few others walk to the chairs in the lobby and take seats.
“Can we talk for a minute?” I ask Beau. “Somewhere else?”
Beau’s brows go up, and his gaze darts behind me, comprehension dawning there. “Sure. Let’s take a walk.”
We follow the sidewalk that wraps around Seaside Oasis. The grounds are beautiful, with red hibiscus, violet orchids, and cheery marigolds lining our path.
