“You don’t think the country boys can handle a murder, Detective McBride? That we need a big city cop to hold our hands?”
He was zipping up his fly so he didn’t have time to duck as she took a swing at him, her fist making solid contact with his shoulder.
“Ouch! What the fuck was that for?”
She was glaring at him. “For being an asshole.”
She got off the bed and opened a closet. He watched as she pulled on underwear and shorts, her jerky movements telling him how pissed she was. He manfully ignored the little shimmy that did special things to her butt as she wiggled into her shorts.
“I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.” He owed her that much.
“Don’t worry about it. We had sex, it was good, but like you I’m not into relationships at the moment.”
Good? It was fucking outstanding.
“If you think I’m going to make a big deal out of it, then you can relax, I won’t. These days a big deal for me is getting through the day; I don’t have time for anything else.”
She wasn’t looking at him; her words had been addressed to the closet door.
“If you want to tag along, I don’t mind,” Cubby found himself saying.
“Big of you.”
She had every right to be pissed off at him, because he was behaving like an asshole. But last night had thrown him an emotional curve ball, and now someone had been murdered in his town. Both things were enough to make a man feel like he was on shaky ground.
“You want to borrow my toothpaste you have to use your finger, because I’m not sharing my brush with you.”
She stomped her feet into her trainers and then into the bathroom. He heard the water running and made himself inhale and exhale several times.Be cool, Cubby, play things cool and everything will settle down.
“I shared more than spit with you,” he muttered.
She stomped out again, grabbed a lightweight jacket, and jammed a cap over her curls without brushing them.
“You ready or what?”
Cubby ignored her, used the bathroom, and then they were heading out of the houseboat to where he’d parked his cruiser.
The drive was accomplished in stony silence, which gave him time to run through a few things that he would need. Pulling up at the beginning of Neeps trail alongside his deputy’s car, he jumped out. Opening the back, he handed Katie the camera, then took out a bag. Tugging on his sheriff’s hat, he then started up the trial.
“What, no badge?”
He ignored Katie’s words and walked until they found Tank standing beside a young couple. Both in their early twenties, Cubby guessed. They were huddled together, faces pale. Their clothes told him they’d been hiking.
“This is Emma and Dean Lorne, Sheriff,” Tank introduced them.
Cubby studied his deputy. Something was off with him, he looked like he was going to puke, which was a normal reaction to a dead body, but as Tank had seen several, he didn’t think that was it.
“Sheriff Hawker.” Cubby shook their hands. “And this is Detective McBride. Can you tell us what happened?”
The man spoke, telling how he had cut off the track to relieve himself and stumbled across the body of a woman. He didn’t stay to take a closer look, but left to ring the police and was told to stand there until they arrived.
“Tank, you get their details and record their movements, then see them to their lodgings. Round up Rick and Brady, then get back here when you can.”
“Ah, Sheriff, if I can have a minute alone.”
“Sure.” He moved to one side.
“It’s Jilly Lee in there, Sheriff, from the supermarket. I saw her pink hair right off.”
