“Like surveilling me?”
“Like surveilling you.”
“Are you implying I can’t be trusted?” She stopped, turned to face him head on.
“As you so eloquently said the other night, I haven’t been back in town for very long. So I’m still getting my footing on who’s who now.” He stared without flinching. “But understand, part of my job is keeping you safe. That’s one of the reasons I’m there.”
All those nights she thought he’d been working up his nerve to ask her out for dinner or a drink or a ride on his bike, he’d only been doing his job. Her lips dried with the jerk of her stomach and the grab of her heart. Only his job. Her shoulders slumped. Immediately, a don’t-let-him-see reaction caused her to straighten.
Regaining her composure, she lifted her chin. “Well, you weren’t there tonight, now, were you?”
“No, I wasn’t.” Cain’s tone narrowed to almost a growl. “But you weren’t due back in town till tomorrow.”
“Admit it.” She poked her finger in his chest. “You didn’t do your job. You messed up and I could have been?—”
He folded his hand around her finger and held it. He leaned toward her as he stared into her eyes. “Calm down, Betsy. I’ve got you.”
The two of them glared at each other, and when he gave an exaggerated sigh, she shot him one right back. Time he got a bit of his own medicine tossed right back at him.
She leaned into Cain’s space. “That doesn’t alter the fact you messed up and I could have been?—”
Evans stepped between the pair. “Let’s get on with this. I just pulled in a few seconds before you arrived. Give me a minute to check my people’s status.”
So much for grumbling. This fiasco would scare customers away or make for a boom in nosy lookers. She didn’t care either way. She just wanted to go home. First thing tomorrow morning she planned to fire Cain Connery.
No need to fight the inevitable. They were the law, and she was the niece of the sheriff. As such, she should make her uncle proud. Be compliant. Make a good, clear report. And stay out of the way.
Officer Kennett walked up. Whispered in Evans’ ear. Deputy Evans swiftly headed around the side of the building with Kennett close behind. Guns drawn. Cain and she followed, but the deputy paused and looked back.
“Betsy, you and Cain stay here for the time being.” Evans raised his eyebrows at her. “In fact, Cain, you make sure she stays here. And find some cover just in case there are any problems. Understood?”
Cain nodded, then motioned her behind him at the side of his truck as the other two disappeared further into the dealership’s property, heading toward the service center. After tossing his jacket on the seat of his truck, he unsnapped his holster and slid the gun out. She watched as he crouched into the flat-footed shooter’s stance, double handing the gun. The veins on his forearms pulsed with each heartbeat as he steeled to a wall of concentration.
She stooped behind him, suddenly wishing she were any place besides here. Any place besides in the middle of a possible shoot-out. Whether she liked the idea or not, Cain was her guard and defender for the moment. Didn’t mean she couldn’t fire him from working at her dealership. Of course, her uncle would have the final say on whether Cain stayed in play undercover or not.
“Mr. Connery, you are no longer an employee of Peyton’s.” That made her feel better. “Please leave your forwarding address at the front desk tomorrow, so your final check can be mailed to you.”
“Fine with me.” He didn’t move. “Now hush. This isn’t a game, Betsy. The man who drives the gold Honda Accord has killed five people. Two of them women. Now stay down and be quiet. Just because you didn’t see his car today, doesn’t mean he isn’t here.”
Okay, she might not have been scared before, but that information ramped her adrenalin up a few more notches. She inched closer to his side, leaning just enough to make contact with him. The muscle in his leg flinched but reset and pressed against her as if he knew she needed assurance.
“Betsy.” Patrolman Kennett rounded the corner of the building. “Deputy Evans needs you at the service center.”
She pushed past Cain as he holstered his gun, and the two of them crossed the lot in a few fast strides. Kennett went to join the huddle of policemen congregated around the same car she’d driven past on her way out earlier. One of the cops pointed at the line of cars parked on the pavement behind the car, then further down the service center customer pull-in lane.
On the other side of the service center entrance, Deputy Evans stood beneath one of the bright overhead lights, his face a map of concentration.
“What’s wrong?” Betsy asked as she neared Evans and realized the deputy had on his clenched jaw, narrowed eyes expression. The one that meant business. All business. Seemed to be a lot of that happening tonight.
“Earlier, you said you waved at a customer...” —Evans flipped a couple pages in his small spiral notebook — “...you referred to him as a lookie-loo— sitting in a blue sedan.”
“Yes. I called him that because he was here so often looking at cars. Months ago, he told me he couldn’t afford one, but just enjoyed stopping on his way home from work to look around.”
Evans scribbled on the page. “Did you happen to notice if the passenger side window was shattered?”
“No. I wasn’t on that side of the car when I drove pass.”
“Anything else seem out of line with him? With the car?”
