“Screw you, Tosh.” She threw down her spoon and stormed off. Tosh kept laughing.
“Anyone want to step in and help?” He winked at Cass.
She flipped her hair. “Sweat it out, Tosh. It looks good on you.” Then she sauntered off, hips swinging, and Tosh’s eyes followed as if glued.
“Hurry up,” Cass called back to Harmony. “We need to try Janie’s before she charges us for a compliment.”
Harmony and Zach laughed as they followed Cass, who’d managed to claw her way out of her earlier mood.
They reached Janie’s booth. Her apron read:Spicy or Sweet, depending on what you add. Below was a collage of gemstones. Janie never missed a chance to advertise that everything she had was for sale.
A line of men stood at her booth, eager and oblivious. Janie had them wrapped around her finger.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the infamous trio,” Janie purred, eyes locking onto Zach. He gave her a look of disgust so obvious she flinched.
She turned on Cass. Jealousy sharpened her gaze. Cass didn’t have to try—men simply gravitated to her. Janie hated that.
Finally, she looked at Harmony. “Our famous author. Looking for inspiration . . . or indigestion?”
“Maybe both.” She eyed Janie’s pot with suspicion.
“I’ve got secret ingredients,” Janie murmured. “All the best fun happens under cloak-and-dagger.”
Zach reluctantly accepted the scoop from her and took a bite. He shrugged. “It’s okay.”
Janie lost a bit of her smile, but recovered quickly. “It’s more than okay, and you know it, lover.” She winked. If the table hadn’t been between them, she’d have been sliding up on him. She softened her gaze, being quite the actress. “I heard about what happened. How terrible. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Zach said, his voice clipped.
“Fine is such a fragile word,” she murmured. “Weren’t you the last person to see Heidi alive?”
Cass stiffened. “That’s enough.”
“What?” Janie asked, batting her long lashes, her voice dripping with innocence. “People are talking. We’re curious.”
Zach’s jaw tightened. “Maybe you should worry about what people are saying aboutyou.”
Her smile cracked Zach’s way. “People talk about me because I matter. I’ve never been accused of murder, though,” she told him with enough sharpness to cut.
Harmony stepped forward, tossing her untouched chili in the garbage. “We’re done here.”
She looped her arm through Zach’s and leaned close, whispering something that made him smile—just to piss Janie off. They walked away, hearing Janie’s furious muttering behind them.
The festival chatter swallowed them again just as the band broke into a cheerful cover ofRing of Fire. The irony wasn’t lost on any of them.
Sergeant Durante stood near the tables, sampling chili with a stern face. “Enjoying the day?” he asked, as if joy were a crime.
Behind him, Ciscel murmured something to another deputy. His gaze flicked to Harmony, then away—quick, practiced, like someone memorizing details no one else noticed. Not for the report. For himself.
“As much as we can,” Harmony said brightly.
“Life goes on no matter who dies,” Durante said.
Zach tensed. Harmony trailed her nails down his arm until his muscles eased. She squeezed his hand.
Cass glared. “Yes, people die, and then new people are born. It’s the circle of life.”
“Some people die in the wrong place . . . or the wrong circles,” Sgt Durante said, his gaze not flinching. “Ever wonder why that is?”
