What was he suggesting? That they spend more time together? Something monumental had shifted between them this afternoon with that kiss, but they hadn’t really addressed what it meant.
“And who will show up if I call? The man who kissed me? Or the sheriff who wants to interrogate me?”
She probably couldn’t afford to see either of them again. Because even though she liked kissing Sam—a lot—his personal life didn’t leave much room for a passionate affair.
More’s the pity. Because that kiss with Sam had been one helluva toe curler.
“Maybe it’ll just be your friend. Seems like we’re both in need of one.” Jamming the phone in his back pocket, he waved goodbye and stalked toward the town hall.
The fact that Sam Reyes wanted to be her friend more than he wanted to interrogate her made her feel special. Just knowing he was looking out for her gave her a stronger sense of security than any baton or pepper spray.
Call her crazy. But it was the most romantic proposal she’d heard in a long time.
Chapter Nine
“INOTICED KATE Covington is in the interrogation room.” Heartache’s mayor pointed to the door at the end of the corridor on the opposite end of the town administrative building.
Sam had come down the hall to give his friend an update on the case, but Zach must have heard all about the argument in the teachers’ parking lot. Zach stuffed an expensive-looking fishing pole under one arm as he glanced over the arrest report Sam handed him.
“It’s hardly an interrogation. Just a relaxed interview.” Or so he hoped. He hadn’t done many true interrogations since he’d left San Jose. Besides, Kate Covington was hardly the kind of lifetime criminal that Sam had questioned on the San Jose drug-crime unit. “My gut says she was as shocked by her husband’s activities as the rest of the town. But if she knows anything, I sure hope she’s ready to give something up.”
Because while there was no doubt in his mind that Jeremy Covington would do jail time for the attemptedabduction of Megan Bryer and Heather Finley, Sam wanted to pin more on him than that. In his bones, he knew that Covington was a longtime sexual predator. Clearly the guy had been very careful over the years, covering his tracks and keeping his identity hidden from his victims. But Sam and his staff were reinterviewing assault victims from the last ten years, hoping to connect their cases to Jeremy Covington.
He’d also requested a special investigator out of Franklin who dealt with teenage victims to see if she had any more luck than he had with the local high school population.
Yet even if he got more current witnesses to come forward, he still wanted better evidence to connect Covington to the crimes against Gabriella. Soliciting a minor for sexual contact online came with tough penalties—tougher even than the attempted sexual assault that Sam had witnessed with his own eyes.
“I heard Kate was riled up when you took her in. Maybe today she’ll be ready to give us something.” Zach peered down the hall again. “Where’s Amy? I heard she was with you at the school.”
“You damn well have the most up-to-date information about my day, don’t you?” Although at least he’d managed to keep their trip to the old bridge a secret. Those hours—and the kiss that had left him reeling—were strictly between Amy and him. He needed to keep his personal life and his work separate. Not so easy to do when Amy seemed to have one foot in both.
Zach slid the fishing pole out from under his arm and took a step toward his office. “The Tastee Freez is still open for the season, you know. That place has all the best informants.”
“You mean the eighty-year-old patrons that have nothing better to do than share the latest gossip?”
“They’re rarely wrong.” Zach grinned unrepentantly. “Besides, the coffee is good there.”
“Right.” He didn’t buy it for a second, but Zach was the mayor because he was Mr. Personable and everyone liked him. “So did you take the day off to fish and hang out at the Tastee Freez?”
“Since I worked all night, I figured I could afford a lunch break out by the river.”
“To fish.” Sam happened to know Zach couldn’t cast a rod to save his life.
Zack turned the rod over in his hands, studying it like a piece of rare technology. “It shouldn’t be so damn complicated.”
“Ever heard the saying ‘don’t bring a gun to a knife fight’?” Folding his arms, Sam couldn’t help but enjoy his friend’s puzzlement since Zach was one of the guys who seemed to sail through life—from acing school and college, to launching a hugely successful business.
“Too much firepower for the Harpeth River?”
“Just try something simpler until you get the hang of it. Is Heather outfishing you again?” He’d heard she had reeled in a prizewinner at a recent fishing derby and apparently Zach had been struggling to keep up ever since.
He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “A ten-year-old kid could outfish me. But Heather is like...a fish whisperer. They swim for miles to hang themselves on her hook.” Backing into his office, he leaned the rod against a wall. “I took her to the river to make peace with her because she was not too happy about the bodyguard idea.”
Sam frowned. “Did you tell her it was either a private bodyguard or someone from my officeprotecting her?”
“I did.” Zach ran a hand through his hair, a furrow of concern scrawled on his brow. “And she eventually saw reason. I called your old foster brother—the guy whose name you gave me.”
“Excellent.” Sam hadn’t found much time to work on the Hasting family reunion today between his morning meeting with Zach and his afternoon with Amy. But he had pulled up a few contacts and remembered one of the guys who’d passed through the house at the same time as him now worked as a private investigator in Memphis. “I hope he’ll be in town for the reunion anyway. Lorelei’s birthday is in two weeks. I’m going to have it then.”
