She winced. He noticed.
“What?” he asked, his gaze narrowing.
“I’ve cleaned the store since last night when those men were in here.”
“Cleaned?”
She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Yes. Cleaned. The shop doesn’t clean itself, you know. And after a day of tourists plowing through T-shirts and tracking in mud, and grubby children touching everything that sparkles or makes noise, it’s plenty messy.”
“Define ‘cleaned.’” He took a step back into the break room.
“Dusting stock, cleaning fingerprints from the glass door of the drink cooler, vacuuming, refolding T-shirts for the hundredth time…”
He held up a hand to stop her. “Okay. Well, don’t clean anything else until my men have a chance to go through here. Save the contents of the vacuum bag.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Really.” He flashed another annoyingly handsome smile. “No one ever said forensic work was glamorous. Sometimes it means tediously picking through the contents of a vacuum for hairs or skin cells.”
She grunted. “Sounds like weekends I’ve spent in the lab looking for evidence of one molecule.”
He cocked his head. “Pardon?”
She waved off the comment. “Nothing. Forget it.” Then, recentering her composure, she said, “I will save the vacuum contents, dust rag and not clean another thing until cleared to do so.”
He ducked his chin once. “Thank you. If you think of anything else that could be helpful to the investigation, pleasecallme.”
He waved a finger toward the business card she still held.
Was it her imagination or was there something more in his voice when he asked her to call? A plea? A personal request? That damnable tremor raced through her again.
She squeezed her hands into fists, which crumpled the business card, then she firmed her mouth. “I will.”
He disappeared into the short hall, and when she heard the squeak of the back-door hinges, she released the breath she’d been holding. Too soon.
He stepped back into the break room…grinning, of course. “You have any more of that tuna? Your little wild friend is back.”
Chapter 4
Because cell service was spotty at best out on the Enchanted Highway, Cal drove straight to the Red Grove police station to drop in on his brother Wyatt. He found Wyatt at his desk, his chair kicked back and his feet up while he laughed with someone on the phone. When Wyatt spotted Cal at his door, he put his feet down and said, “Hey, let me call you back later. The sheriff is here, and I have to look busy now.”
“Detective Colton.” Cal laughed as he shook his head and took a seat across from Wyatt. “Working hard or hardly working?”
“Would you believe me if I said that was work?”
Cal lifted both palms toward Wyatt. “You don’t have to justify yourself to me.”
Wyatt scrubbed a hand over his unkempt mop of brown hair, his Colton-blue eyes twinkling when he teased, “I don’t? I can remember you appointing yourself boss over all of us kids a long time ago.”
Cal grinned smugly. “Eldest’s prerogative.” Then he sobered and said, “Have you heard about the body found out at the sculpture at the zero mile marker on the Enchanted Highway this morning?”
Wyatt nodded pointed to his desk phone. “That’s what the call was about. Because of the needle tracks on the victim’s arms, the coroner believes drugs were involved. The case has been assigned to my task force. I’ll be heading up the investigation.” Wyatt paused and shot his brother a mock dubious frown. “That is, if you approve, Mr. Prerogative.”
Cal took a pen from the cup on the edge of the desk and threw it at his brother. Wyatt deftly caught the pen and chuckled. “I’ll take that as a go-ahead.”
Leaning forward, his legs splayed, Cal braced his forearms on his knees. He turned his hat in his hands idly. “I hate this trend of increased drug traffic. This town was quiet and safe for so many years, and now people are dying at the foot of landmarks.”
“So your gut says the victim this morning was an overdose?” Wyatt asked. “We don’t have anything official yet from the coroner on cause of death.”
