“And here I thought she didn’t like me.”
“She’s good at pretending.” Bailey set the book in her lap, keeping it open so she didn’t lose her place. “Did you enjoy your day?”
“I did. Worked my way through town, checking out what Coyote Ridge has to offer.”
“Sounds like fun. And what’s your first impression?”
Holt considered giving her some sort of glossy answer he would’ve told a stranger, but he didn’t want to treat Bailey like a stranger. He wanted to know her. Everything about her.
So he opted for the truth. “I think this town has a lot to offer someone like me.”
She tilted her head and regarded him with a smile. “How so?”
He moved closer, taking a seat on the sofa near her but not too close to crowd.
“For starters, it’s got the best bakery I’ve ever been to.”
She laughed softly. “My mom called. Told me she met the handsome writer who’s staying here. She asked my opinion on which breakfast pastries to treat you to while you’re here.”
“If you want a hint, it’s blueberry. I love blueberry.”
Bailey laughed again, and he realized how much he loved the sound. “I’ll make a note of it. What else did you learn?”
“That the bookstore very well could be a doomed enterprise.” Holt leaned back and propped his ankle on his knee. “Did you know Violet puts free books on the front porch? Who does that?”
Another laugh. “I heard she wanted to do the Little Free Library. I’m glad she’s doin’ it. Keep in mind, we’re a small town. It started as a farming and ranching community. Then the Walkers parsed out the land andgaveit to the town. Although some folks are doing rather well, most of the residents don’t have a lot of money.”
“Fair point.”
“What came after the bookstore?”
“I stopped by the sheriff’s department.”
“You mean the jail?”
Holt nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s what it is. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t a few cells and a couple of desks.”
“We don’t have much crime here.” She reached over and rapped her knuckles on the end table. “Knock on wood.”
Holt grinned. Fuck, she was adorable.
“Mostly drunk and disorderlies, sometimes public intoxication. Rarely, we’ll have a B and E.”
He had no interest in those accused of breaking and entering, but he considered bringing up the three events he’d uncovered when researching the town.
The first one had surprised him, but evidently, there were suspicious circumstances surrounding Rafe’s mother’s death, although no one had ever delved too deep. According to a few articles he’d come across, some thought it had been a cover-up by the sheriff at the time.
The next was Rafe’s father’s death. He knew the how of it, but he was still fuzzy on the why. He didn’t doubt for a second that it had been self-defense, but Holt was curious as to what had led up to that night. Since there were very few details, he figured only Rafe and Rex could answer those questions.
And the other was the death of Kylie Walker and the events that led up to it. From what he could tell, the beginning of the end started with a house explosion—a gas leak, supposedly, at a house owned by Jessica James, who happened to work for the Off the Books Task Force, the team who’d been pursuing the woman responsible for Kylie’s death. According to the articles Holt read, Travis Walker had been there at the house at the time of the explosion. Coincidence? He seriously doubted it.
But Holt liked seeing that smile on Bailey’s face, so he decided to steer clear of the morbid topic for now. He damn sure didn’t want to do anything to make it disappear. There would be plenty of time for him to find out more on his own.
“What else did you do today?”
“I took some time out of my day to play,” he admitted.
“Play? Really? And what did you play with?” Her forehead wrinkled. “Or should I saywho?”
