Archer pulled up in front of his office and parked his truck. “You’re welcome to come in. I promise it will be much less eventful than last time.”
Lord, help her.
He came around to the passenger side to open the door and help her out like a proper Texas gentleman. She tripped, pitching forward, and he held her arms to steady her. Staring up at him, close enough to share a breath, she once again studied the curve of his lips and thought about how nice they would feel pressed up against hers.
“Delia.” He said her name like a beggar asking for mercy. Slowly, as not to startle, he reached up and traced the line of her jaw before tucking her hair behind her ear.
This was it. She was going to kiss Archer Reed-Smythe. The boy who had terrorized her as a child and grew up to be more man than she could possibly handle.
Her eyes fell closed. She pushed up on her toes. An open invitation. He cupped her face, a gentle slide of his calloused palms against her cheeks, and sucked in a quick breath. She swore she could get drunk on that sound. Of him wanting her and being just a little bit scared of her too. There was power in being a woman.
“Oh my God. The pastor’s son and the madam of the Chickadee?” The grating, high-pitched voice sent Cordelia stumbling backward right before Archer was about to kiss her. “I guess that apple didn’t fall too far from the tree.”
His arms fell to his sides, letting her go, but there was no mistaking the irritation in his gaze as it landed on their intruder. “Honey. What are you doing here?”
Honey Stevens swished her hips as she crossed the parking lot, eyeing Archer like he was a hog roasting on the spit and she’d brought her own fork. “I came by to see if you’d found any more information on your poor daddy.”
He ground his teeth. “As I told you before, I’m not in charge of this investigation. It’s a local matter, and it would be a conflict of interest in any case.”
What he didn’t say, but was heavily implied, was that even if he was at all involved in the investigation, he wouldn’t be telling her squat. Honey seemed to take the hint though. Her expression turned cold as she eyed Cordelia. “I’m surprised to see you associating yourself with a suspect. Aren’t you worried about what people will think?”
“Can’t say I give a damn.” Archer aggressively chomped on his toothpick, snapping it between his teeth. He spit the ends out. “If that’s all, we’re going to—”
“Wait.” Honey gripped his arm, and Cordelia’s eyes narrowed as her hold lingered, her fingers flexing over the cut of his biceps. “I didn’t want to say this in front of present company...” Again, she eyed Cordelia like she was an egg-sucking dog, and Cordelia had to remember the good breeding she’d never had just to keep her temper in check. “But word on the street is that someone called in an anonymous tip to the sheriff’s office about a large stock of arsenic up at the Chickadee. He’s headed there now.”
The blood drained from Cordelia’s face. She knew it wasn’t the arsenic that killed the pastor, but no one else knew that. Of course they’d gotten rid of the wine bottle, but it hadn’t occurred to any of them to check the motel for arsenic. It wouldn’t be out ofthe question for Great-Aunt Penelope to have kept some on hand. Rodents could be a problem out in the country.
Without another word, she left Archer and Honey behind as she ran the two blocks back to the H-E-B and peeled out of the parking lot, tires still smoking and the echo of Archer’s voice calling for her in her wake.
Chapter Fifteen
CORDELIA PULLED UP TO THE CHICKADEE, ROCKS PINGING OFF HERtires as she squealed to a stop behind the sheriff. She expected to see Daisy being led away in handcuffs, but what she came upon instead was a scene straight out of Copacabana.
Sheriff Maynard had his boots propped up on a beach recliner, enjoying a dollar-store version of a tequila sunrise, poured for him by Daisy. His deputy sat in another recliner, enjoying a similar treatment from Belinda Sue. Except she made him balance his glass on his head, like an end table, before she’d let him have a drink.
Hot air blew in from the wide plains, kicking up dust and gently lapping the clear pool water. The sheriff rested a hand on his stomach, patting it in the way only a fully satisfied man could as he grinned at Daisy, who swarmed and coddled him like a salesman at a used-car lot.
“Cordelia.” Daisy jumped off the sheriff’s lap and came rushing to the gate. “You’re back. What took so long? Where are your groceries?”
“I didn’t get around to getting them....” Cordelia trailed off, distracted by the thoughts of arrest and ruin still buzzing in her mind. “What’s going on here?”
“Oh.” Daisy brightened, like the sheriff’s presence was a good thing. Of course, she didn’t yet know how he’d pulled Cordelia over earlier and not-so-subtly threatened her. “The sheriff got some kind of silly tip about us having arsenic on the property. We let him have a look around and he didn’t find anything, so we offered him a drink and a little break before he had to get back to work. We’re in the hospitality business, after all.”
Cordelia lowered her voice. “Are you sure Great-Aunt Penelope didn’t keep arsenic on hand? Just in case rodents wandered in from the brush?”
“Nah.” Daisy waved a hand, dismissing her. “The only thing that ever wanders in here from the brush is a random snake, but we also happen to be in the business of handling those.”
Daisy snorted at her own joke, and Cordelia shook her head. All that fuss for nothing. She’d torn out of town like a bat out of hell, left Archer hanging on his dinner invitation, and for what? To watch the chicks play nursemaids to the Keystone Cops of Sarsaparilla Falls?
“Shouldn’t they be moving along?” Cordelia asked. “Considering they’ve got a real murderer to catch and they’re not going to find him out here?”
“There’s nothing wrong with making the sheriff feel welcome at an establishment that’s not altogether legal,” Daisy said out of the corner of her mouth. “If you can’t play nice, you should just let the rest of us handle this one.”
Cordelia had never been scolded by Daisy before, and she had to admit that it didn’t sit right with her. Plus, Cordelia couldn’t argue with the fact that Daisy was right about the sheriff. The Chickadee wasn’t a strictly legal operation, and it didn’t hurt to help the lawmen in town see the value of it anyway.
“You’re right,” Cordelia said. “I’m just in a mood. Had a bad run-in with Edna at the H-E-B, and another one with Honey outside Archer’s office.”
“Edna thought she was being slick by going to the local paper.She’s so rotten, salt couldn’t save her.” Daisy gave Cordelia a mischievous glance. “I heard you put her in her place though. And got escorted out of the store by Archer.”
