“So, what kind of things went missing?” I asked, unable to help myself. “Jewelry? Cash? Some vintage Betty Crocker china?”
Marcus stopped walking and turned to face me, his green eyes narrowing. “I thought I told you to keep quiet.”
“You said not to touch anything. You didn’t say I couldn’t ask questions.”
“I’m saying it now.”
“Too late, I already asked.”
Dakota coughed, and I was pretty sure he was covering up a laugh. Marcus, however, looked like he was counting to ten in his head. Maybe twenty.
“Xavier,” he said slowly, like he was talking to a particularly difficult child. “This is an active investigation. I can’t have you interfering or spreading information around town.”
“I don’t spread anything. I get tested regularly,” I promised, crossing my heart dramatically. “Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a scout.”
“How do you know that?”
He looked me up and down. “I don’t think I need to explain.”
I grinned at him. “You’re right, I wasn’t. I got kicked out of the one meeting I attended for suggesting we redecorate the troop leader’s basement. Apparently, emerald green shag carpet was a hill he was willing to die on.”
This time Dakota did laugh, a short bark of amusement that he quickly tried to suppress when Marcus glared at him.
“Can we just focus here?” Marcus asked, gesturing to the ground. “I’m looking for any signs of disturbance. Footprints, broken branches, anything that looks out of place.”
I bit my tongue to keep from making another comment and instead actually tried to be helpful. We walked along the tree line, Marcus and Dakota scanning the ground while I did my best to look like I knew what I was searching for. Honestly, it all just looked like dirt and grass to me, but I kept my eyes down and tried to appear useful.
After about ten minutes of silence, I noticed something near the base of a large oak tree. There was a cigarette butt, partially buried in the dirt but still visible. I started to reach down to grab it, then remembered Marcus’s warning about not touching anything.
“Sheriff,” I called out, trying to sound professional. “I think I found something.”
Marcus was at my side in seconds, moving with a speed that caught me off guard. For a big guy, he was surprisingly quick. He crouched down next to me, and suddenly we were very close. Close enough that I could smell leather and something woodsy, like cedar or pine. Close enough to see the fine lines around hiseyes and the stubble along his jaw that he’d probably need to shave soon.
“Don’t touch it,” he said, pulling out his phone to take pictures.
“I know,” I replied, a little offended. “You already told me that. I’m notcompletelyincompetent.”
He glanced up at me, and for just a second, something softened in his expression. “I didn’t say you were.”
Dakota joined us, peering down at the cigarette butt. “None of the ranch hands smoke. Logan’s got a strict policy about it. It’s a big fire hazard.”
“And none of the family smokes either?” Marcus asked, still taking photos from different angles.
“Nope. Caroline used to, but she quit a before she came home from college.” Dakota pulled out a plastic baggie from his pocket and handed it to Marcus. “Looks like it’s been here a few days, judging by the dirt.”
Marcus carefully picked up the cigarette butt with a stick and dropped it into the baggie. “Could be nothing. Could be from a student parent who wandered off from the main area.”
“Or it could be from whoever’s been stealing things,” I pointed out.
Marcus stood up, slipping the baggie into his pocket. His eyes met mine, and I saw a flicker of something—approval, maybe? It was gone before I could identify it.
“Good eye,” he said grudgingly.
I felt an absurd rush of pride at the compliment, which was ridiculous. I was a successful wedding planner who’d worked with celebrities and coordinated events for people with more money than God. I shouldn’t care what some small-town sheriff thought of my observational skills.
But I did. Damn it, I did.
