“The guy that was with him in the shop last night. He’d be a good place to start,” she said, her facial expression once again suggesting “well, duh…”
Cal straightened, his heart ticking faster. “Hang on. You saw the dead guy alive last night? With another man?”
She nodded. “They came in the shop, right before closing.”
He grunted and shook his head. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”
“You didn’t ask!”
“I asked if you recognized him. You said, ‘No.’”
“No, you asked if Iknewhim. If I could tell youwhohe was. And I don’t, and I can’t. Not only am I new in town, I don’t make it my business to get to know the local drug crowd.”
Again Cal’s pulse tripped. “Drug crowd?” Now she’d really piqued his interest. “What makes you think the guy is involved with drugs?”
She scoffed. “It was pretty obvious.”
“Obvious how?”
Jules shrugged. “Because I don’t live under a rock. I may not do drugs myself, but I can tell when somebody is stoned and when I witness a drug deal.”
When his eyes widened, she waved a hand and clarified. “Maybe not theactual exchangeof money and goods, but…” She shrugged. “Clearly a precursor. They barely spoke before they left, but it was obvious they were going to do business later.”
He pulled out his cell phone and swiped through a few screens until he opened a voice recording app. “I want you to start from the very beginning, from the minute the first man arrived in the store and tell me everything you recall. Every detail no matterhow minor it seems. I’m going to record your statement. All right?”
“Would it matter if I said it wasn’t all right? Don’t you law enforcement types do what you want regardless of whether it’s all right with the public?”
He hesitated, giving her a hard look. “Is there a reason for your dim view of law enforcement? HaveIdone something to upset you?”
She groaned and shook her head. “Not you.” She flicked a brief glance at him, then added, “Yet.”
“Yet?” He gave a wry chuckle. “I’ll consider myself on notice.”
She stared down at her hands, and he noticed how ragged and raw her cuticles looked, as if she’d spent a lot of time chewing or picking at them, typically a habit that reflected stress or anxiety. But what had Jules Bailey stressed? What had given her such a bad impression of law enforcement? He made another mental note to do a background check on the shop manager. A niggling suspicion told him there was a story here he needed to know.
“Ready?” he asked, his finger hovering over the screen of his phone.
She exhaled heavily and frowned. With an uncaring flap of her hands, she said, “Fine. Record me.”
He pressed Record, and said, “Sheriff Callum Colton in the break room of the Enchanted Highway Mile 0 gift shop. Voluntary interview with Jules Bailey, shop manager. June 30th at eight thirty-five a.m.” He slid the phone closer to her and said, “Start at the beginning. Tell me what you saw and heard last night.”
Chapter 3
Jules swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. How many times had she or her sister given statements to the police that amounted to nothing? Unreliable witness accounts, circumstantial evidence, contradictory alibis. The cops always seemed to have a reason to dismiss what she and Abby told them, and her sister’s stalker would go free…again.
Now this North Dakota sheriff wanted her statement, her help in solving a crime? The irony galled her.
But if he was forcing her to keep the gift shop closed while he conducted his investigation, she might as well tell him what he wanted to know. The sooner the shop reopened, the sooner she could start earning her meager salary again.
Yippee, she thought, heaving a desultory sigh. She made a mental note to call Bonnie and tell her not to come in today. The teen would probably be glad for the day off to…well, do whatever teenagers did these days. She’d never had the luxury of being a carefree teenager, thanks to her parents. She’d had to work and look after Abby and—
“Whenever you’re ready,” the sheriff said, drawing her out of her thoughts. “What happened last night?”
Jules huffed out a breath and mentally reconstructed the events of the previous evening. “So…the dead guy was the first one to come into the shop.” She paused, giving an involuntary shudder as an image of the man’s ashen skin and cloudy eyes flashed in her mind. She drummed her fingers on the table restlessly as she tried to erase the gruesome memoryand concentrate on reconstructing the events from the night before. Focusing was hard enough given the sheriff’s distracting appearance and confusing manner. Every time she met his blue eyes, her thoughts scattered, and his habit of brushing off her sarcasm with lopsided grins that made his chiseled good looks even more strikingly handsome rattled her. The fact that he could so easily shake her composure was reason enough to keep her guard up, but considering he was in law enforcement, she knew she needed to double down on her caution around him.
So give your statement and get rid of him.
She cleared her throat and continued, “He came in at about five fifty-five. I remember the time because the store closes at six on weekdays, and I was just about to lock the door for the evening.”
