“Yeah. I got hungry and decided to ride to town on my snowmobile to get breakfast.” His eyes darkened and pain lurked in their deep depths. “Saw him in the creek, blood everywhere, his eyes open in death. Didn’t see anybody else around.”
“What then?” She tried to keep her own emotion at bay. His filled the room, pulsing with hurt.
He shrugged. “I drove into town to notify Sheriff Blazerton so he could head out to the scene. Then I called my brothers.”
“So you never tried to find out who’d shot him?”
“Nope. Nobody wanted Hank dead.” Brock’s jaw looked like it turned to stone. “Blazerton agreed, and the file is closed. Done. Over.”
Not even close. But his closed off expression promised he had finished talking about Hank’s death. For now, anyway. “Are there any other relevant facts you’ve left out?” she asked.
“Nope.”
Fine. She’d wait to question him again. “Should we talk about the fact that you almost kissed me?” The moment had occurred, and they needed to deal with it. The problem? She couldn’t say for certain that she hadn’t wanted him to kiss her. Sure, she’d had a few drinks, but nobody she’d ever met compared to Brock Osprey. Something about him—tough, intriguing, and somehow sweet. Frankly, the guy probably knew how to kiss. But she worked for the FBI, sent to Knife’s Edge on assignment, and at best, he counted as a witness in her case. At worst, he landed squarely on the suspect list. “Brock?”
“Yeah, Ophelia. I almost kissed you, and you almost kissed me back.” He held up a hand to stop her from protesting. “We don’t need to play games here. We almost made a mistake, and we both know it.”
Well. She did know that, but come on. Her ego might be taking a bit of a beating, but at least they’d landed on the same page. If he could act casual, so could she. For now, she’d get a base measurement on him when he told the truth for the next time she questioned him. Her gut feeling whispered that he was no killer. But again, he was hot and sexy, so could she trust her gut? “Tell me about Knife’s Edge.”
If her switch of topic surprised him, he didn’t let it show. “The town was named for Knife’s Edge Mountain, which is to the north. The peaks form what looks like a blade’s edge thickening to a handle. When the snow clears, I’ll show you.”
Made sense, and she warmed from the nice room and not from the fact that he just made plans for the future. Nope, not at all. “Why don’t you want to work as the sheriff?”
“That’s my business.”
Ouch. But fair. Unless his reason had something to do with the fact that he didn’t follow the law. Every question that popped into her head centered on Brock Osprey, and she had to realign her focus. “Who’s Amos, and why does he live in the basement of the sheriff’s station?”
“Amos is our resident genius who calls the weather. He’s amazing, and that’s where he wants to live, so that’s where he lives.” Brock leaned toward her and snatched a scone.
Perhaps the man shouldn’t be on his own. “How old is Amos?”
“Heck if I know. He lived out toward the northern peaks with his aunt, who passed away a few years ago. The town took him in after that because that’s what we do. Plus, we need him. He’s great at his job, which you’ll learn if you stick it out very long.”
Was that a challenge? “Oh, I’m sticking it out until I solve my cases, Sheriff.” Yeah, she’d baited him with the title, but he deserved it. Plus, from what she could see, he excelled at the job. Except he didn’t want it.
She reached for a scone and savored its delicious flavor. After finishing it off, she eyed another, but it probably wasn’t a good idea considering the probable calorie count. “Why did you get so tense when I asked about the EVE facility?” The intriguing place wouldn’t leave her mind.
He smiled, the sight almost charming. “Is that a technique you learned at the FBI?”
“Yes.” She sipped her coffee. “Though, frankly, it’s how my mind works. I move between topics quickly. I didn’t mean to throw you off.” Not much, anyway. She cleared her throat. “Where did you learn your technique?” At his raised eyebrows, she cut him a look. “The changing of the topic technique combined with answering a question by asking one.”
“By dating a prosecuting attorney back east.” He shrugged, drinking from the thick mug.
Curiosity took Ophelia. As usual. “I take it you’re not still dating. Why not?”
“I shipped out.” He took another scone, apparently just fine with the sugar. “We both knew it would be temporary and casual, and I haven’t seen her in years.” He looked Ophelia over, his gaze lingering on her mouth. “We lack single women in Knife’s Edge. You’re going to be in great demand.”
Amusement bubbled through her, even though she should probably be a mite irritated at the comment. “Is that an offer, Brock Osprey?” Her voice came out flirtier than intended, but she did enjoy the slight pinkening of his rugged cheekbones.
His grunt didn’t reveal much. “Well, if it looks like you’re dating someone, you will be left alone. Mostly.”
Was he offering a fake-boyfriend scenario? “What is this? A Lifetime for ladies movie?” She took another strong pull on her coffee, humming as her body finally began to warm. “You’re offering to be my pretend boyfriend to help me out?”
His upper lip quirked. “No. I’d want quid pro quo.”
Her mouth opened, and she quickly snapped it shut. “Excuse me?”
He finished his drink and placed his cup on the matching saucer. “Listen. We’re attracted to each other, and the nights get mighty cold in Alaska. I don’t need complications, and neither do you. So, I’m all in if you want a relationship with me, a casual one, and I’ll definitely provide cover for you. You’re gonna need it.”
