“All right, Mr. Taylor. If I have any more questions, I know where to find you.”

Mark Taylor started to ease himself out of the booth but then paused. He didn’t want to leave.

Andi raised her eyebrows.

“You know, Sheriff,” he said. “I’m a pretty good investigator. I spent a few years working the crime beat for the state paper before I came here.” His skills might be a little rusty, but he thought offering to help might get him into the tight-lipped sheriff’s good graces. Getting any details out of her was next to impossible. “I’d be happy to assist with your investigation. We could exchange information. Sure would make my job easier and the story better.”

She nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Taylor. I’ll let you know.”

He shrugged one shoulder and stood. “I guess I’ll just have to stick close to you, Sheriff Jackson. For my readers.”

Dear Reader,

A Minute on the Lips began with a single scene that popped into my head as I was driving. I was taking a break from a local writer’s contest and mulling over how I could write a beginning chapter with mystery elements.

I was also lost. This happens to me when I explore new places.

While driving in circles in the small town I’d chosen to explore for the day and searching for a fabric store, I passed a diner on the town square. The group of business-suited men gathered out front sparked an idea and became a collection of fun characters I’d never met. I enjoyed finding out their stories.

I hope that when you meet them, you’ll smile, too.

Cheryl Harper

A Minute on the Lips

Cheryl Harper

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHERYL HARPER discovered her love for books and words as a little girl, thanks to a mother who made countless library trips and an introduction to Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House stories. Whether it’s the prairie, the American West, Regency England or earth a hundred years in the future, Cheryl enjoys strong characters who make her laugh. Now Cheryl spends her days searching for the right words while she stares out the window and her dog Jack snoozes beside her. And she considers herself very lucky to do so.

For more information about Cheryl’s books, visit her online at www.cherylharperbooks.com or follow her on Twitter: @cherylharperbks.

Deciding to call myself a writer has been a scary and amazing journey. I’m lucky enough to have great family and friends who never hesitated to encourage me, thought I could do it when I wasn’t so sure, and always laughed in the right spots. And I owe a special thanks to my friend Susan, who took me to my first writing workshop and has supplied so many great titles like A Minute on the Lips through the years.

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER ONE

“OTHER DUTIES AS assigned” should be etched on Sheriff Andrea Jackson’s office door. In fact, that could be the entire job description wrapped up in one neat phrase. As she drove into town, Andi had no idea what the day might bring—investigating, wild-animal wrangling, babysitting or some crazy-making combination of all three with an added wild-card adventure.

Andi made the full circle around the redbrick courthouse before she headed toward the office. As she pulled to a stop in front of the sign that read Reserved for Sheriff, Nettie, the part-time dispatcher, walked out to meet her.

“Morning, Sheriff, hon. Jackie over at the diner called to demand an investigation of his crime scene.” She held up a cup of steaming black coffee. “I think you better head on over there first thing.”

“Thanks, Nettie,” Andi mumbled as she latched on to the cup and dragged it through the window. Caffeine didn’t do much to wake her up after sleepless nights, but it did signal to her brain that it was time to get to work.

Campaigning and elections made it hard to sleep. Instead of getting up to do something productive that calmed her worries—like knitting or reading or eating half a gallon of ice cream—she’d stubbornly clung to her pillow and given herself the “go to sleep” lecture. That never worked. Neither did logically pointing out that she had only this many hours to sleep. One worry led to one regret, which led to a long guilt trip or a short visit to Anxiousville, population: one. The middle of the night could be rough. As the number of hours available to sleep shrank, so did her ability to do anything other than stare at the clock.

After a quick sip of coffee, Andi buckled her seat belt again and waved. “I’ll head over there first, Nettie. If anything important comes up, use the radio.”

“Sure thing, Sheriff, hon,” Nettie answered. “Good luck!”

Andi nodded and pulled away. Nettie had been a bingo buddy of Andi’s grandmother since bingo was invented. Even though Andi was an adult member of the county’s law enforcement team, Nettie had a hard time adjusting, so more times than not, she said “Sheriff, hon.” It didn’t bother Andi enough to try to change it, and she needed every good-luck wish she could get. This was not her first run-in with Jackie. He took his food very seriously, had the sheriff’s office on speed dial and loved the threat of a good lawsuit.

As Andi rolled to a stop in front of the diner, she thought the town of Tall Pines might be at full capacity. It was going to be hot again, but cars lined both sides of the two-lane highway through the middle of town. October was the height of the season, and even though it was unusually warm, traffic had picked up accordingly. Arts-and-crafts fans meandered along the sidewalks. They might have wandered on into Jackie’s Country Kitchen except he had the door barred and a small group blocked the entrance.

Andi could see Jackie’s beady, excited eyes over the top of the crowd. He was standing on the bench he’d pulled over to block the door to the diner. Andi would need to get that fixed pretty darn quick or she and Jackie would both be on the mayor’s hit list.

Andi glanced over the crowd as she asked, “Jackie, what seems to be the problem?”

Jackie wrinkled his brow in an ugly frown. “Sheriff, the problem is that I’ve got a crime scene here, and I don’t want any of these suspects or looky-loos to muddy up the evidence.”

Right. Andi nodded, hoping Jackie would think she cared as deeply as she had the first time she’d answered one of his calls. Or even the second or third. Then she hadn’t realized how frequently she’d be giving Jackie the same nod. Now she knew better than to get her hopes up for a real case. “Why don’t we go inside and have a look? And we can move that bench right back under the window, to get things back to normal.”

Even before she got the second sentence out of her mouth, Jackie was shaking his head. The few red hairs that remained on top stirred in the weak breeze. “No, ma’am, first get statements from every one of these suspects. Then I’ll let you in to look around, take your fingerprints and do any of that forensic investigation. You better hurry it up, though. I’m losing the breakfast crowd.”

Andi stifled a heavy sigh as she looked at the crowd of “suspects” and decided it would be easier to go along with Jackie at this point. He wasn’t going to like that her forensic investigation would be sorely lacking. She could take fingerprints and get some photos, but considering the crowd that went through the diner, unless she found something really out of the ordinary, she’d have a hard time calling anything she found evidence. Thanks to television, everyone expected her to have a crime lab, a source at Homeland Security and a psychic in her back pocket. In most cases, Andi’s resources were limited to her powers of observation—which were pretty good. She was also lucky to work with talented deputies. For almost two years, they had been enough to stay on top of petty crime, not-so-friendly disputes, domestic violence calls, small drug busts and general safety concerns in Tall Pines. No laboratories needed.

Andi pulled out her pad to take down the names of Jackie’s suspects. As Andi surveyed Wanda Blankenship’s tiny tank and long, lean legs exposed by very short shorts, she nearly convinced herself that Wanda was guilty of whatever had been perpetrated. Any woman who looked as good as she did with that much skin showing had to be up to no good. Feeling just a little guilty about judging Wanda’s book by its cover, Andi straightened her shoulders in her neat, perfectly serviceable uniform, smoothed back any hairs that had escaped her no-nonsense ponytail, and asked, “Wanda, do you want to start?”

She shrugged. Andi figured she had to be innocent. There was no way she could hide a murder weapon or the crown jewels in that outfit. “Sheriff, I was jogging through town when Jackie grabbed me.”

Jackie bent to point a bony finger in her face. “You were running away from the diner. If you didn’t take it, you saw who did.”

“Has something been stolen, Jackie?” Andi was surprised. And excited. Traffic tickets and accident reports kept them busy, but this was the kind of work she’d signed on to do.

He narrowed his eyes at Andi. “Yes, but I won’t say what it is. One of these people knows and they’ll confess.” He turned to face the man lounging beside the door. “Or else.”

Andi watched the stupid smirk cross the stupid face of the way-too-smart newspaper editor and suddenly felt hot under the collar of her uniform. There was always a gleam of mischief in his gray eyes, as if he could see right through her. Mark Taylor had moved into Tall Pines to take over the paper almost two years ago. And then he’d taught her a very valuable lesson: never trust a reporter. Following his leading questions, she’d been too helpful, too prominent, too speculative. Determined to show just how well she could do her job in the early days after her election, she’d given him way too much information on the county’s domestic violence stats for an article he’d been working on, and she’d been paying the price with the local business and community leaders ever since. And instead of appearing only in the Tall Pines Times, the story had gone to the state paper, painting a stark picture of what really goes on behind closed doors even in quaint tourist towns.

Everything he’d printed had been true. He just hadn’t told the whole story.

People had stopped her on the street to explain how stupid they thought she was. And she’d gotten one angry, vaguely threatening note in her mailbox at home. She wanted to hate him for it, but he’d been doing his job. He sold a lot of papers, and she should have been wiser. It had been an excellent lesson: a little truth could travel a very long way in the hands of someone determined to twist it. “No comment” was her favorite answer any time he called now. Since then, unless something was part of the public record or a feel-good piece for community outreach, she’d made up her mind to say as little as possible to anyone who might write it down and publish it for the world to see. She’d also stopped reports to the local radio station and had to think long and hard before she answered any emails to her office.

None of that kept him from calling, emailing or stopping her on the street to ask for updates or quotes. And sometimes she thought he did it just to annoy her. For him, it wasn’t that hard.

Obviously she couldn’t trust Mark Taylor. But he bothered her more than she’d care to admit. He was always rumpled, but it was hard to pinpoint the problem exactly. Maybe it was his hair. He knew his way around styling products. Hair that perfectly messy and adorable had to be worked at, didn’t it? And it wasn’t his height. As the girl who’d held down the middle of every back row of every class picture all the way through middle school, Andi knew a thing about height. And Mark Taylor was only average. He’d certainly never played center on the high school basketball team. As Andi studied the smirk on his face, she figured him for a fast, sneaky guard, the kind that would score before she even knew he was in the neighborhood. And that was likely the problem. Mark Taylor was smooth. And Andi distrusted both the eternally rumpled and the naturally smooth.

He’d moved to town and slipped right into the flow as if he’d always been here. Andi had heard plenty of stories about his Little League sponsorship, his volunteering to help the high school yearbook staff and his charming smile. The ladies of Tall Pines loved him and loved to talk about him. She’d been born and raised here. The only family she had was here, but Andi still felt so out of step some days.

As Mark’s eyes met hers, his left eyebrow rose. And that one small gesture reminded her she was supposed to be investigating...something. “Sheriff, you have any questions for me? I’m completely at your service, but yesterday Joe Sales told me the fish are biting and Spring Lake is calling my name.”

She shrugged and did her best not to blush at being caught off guard. The only solution was to cut to the chase. “What brought you to the diner, Taylor?” He’d rattled her with one question and a mobile eyebrow.

He pointed at Jackie. “This one called me before I even made it out the door and demanded I get over here. When I asked him why, he said I knew why and I better get to the diner or I’d be in serious trouble.”

“And do you know why?”

He smiled slowly and shook his head. “Nope. No idea. But it might make for an entertaining story.” He shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “Entertain me, Sheriff.”

Jackie propped both hands on his hips. “You were the first person I thought of, newspaper man. I know you’re jealous of my recipes. I better not see any more turn up in that blessed newspaper or I’m gonna lawyer up, you see if I don’t.”

At last year’s chili cook-off, Jackie won again, as he had every year since the contest started, but Mark, the new kid in the pot, won second place and published his recipe, minus one secret ingredient, in the paper. Jackie was convinced the recipe had been based on his. He’d never been able to explain how Taylor had gotten it or why he’d steal a recipe to alter it, but Taylor had produced a stained, handwritten recipe and a character witness in the form of his mother to prove his innocence. And he’d taken Jackie’s accusations the same way he took everything: with a joke and a laugh. If Jackie was a man who took his cooking seriously, Mark Taylor seemed to be a man who took nothing seriously. Well, maybe nothing but the news and how well it sold, anyway.

Andi noticed Mark Taylor noticing Wanda and wished she could arrest him for something, anything, but that’s not a game she wanted to play with the newspaper man, especially in an election year.

Before Andi could question the other man at the scene, Jackie’s busboy, Oscar, Jackie motioned at him. “And Oscar didn’t see anything.”

Oscar nodded. Andi and Oscar looked at each other and waited. Apparently that was his best answer. One quick glance at Taylor showed he was politely refusing to laugh. Andi had no idea how long that would hold out or what would happen to her temper if he did laugh. It was definitely time to get to the bottom of this.

“Jackie, why don’t you show me what’s missing? And walk me through your arrival.”

He hopped down from the bench and pushed open the door. The small group followed him in and froze in the doorway. Winning twelve chili championships means lots of trophies. A man like Jackie puts those trophies front and center so all who enter his restaurant may be astounded by his performance. And now Jackie had a big, empty trophy case with faint outlines of where the trophies used to live.

Andi waved her hand vaguely over the large case. “All right, so your trophies...they’re missing?”

Jackie’s glare was intense, but what bothered Andi was the sight of Taylor taking notes.

“Listen, Sheriff, the trophies are important, but they aren’t nearly as valuable as the safe. This week’s receipts, all my recipes—” Jackie rubbed his forehead and for the first time Andi noticed that he was worried “—and some important papers, things of mine and Mona’s...they’re all gone! Worse, somebody’s got ’em!” He was more agitated than usual.

Andi wished she’d spent more time mainlining hot black coffee before attempting the day. “Show me the safe, Jackie.”

The whole group followed him through the swinging door and crammed into his small office. The safe door was hanging open, and the safe was empty.

“I won’t rest until I have everything back and whoever stole it is rotting in jail,” Jackie said. Andi didn’t doubt he meant what he said.

He turned to glare at Taylor. “If it’s not the no-good newspaper man, then this girl here—” he motioned disdainfully at Wanda, who looked like she’d never been inside the Country Kitchen or any other establishment that served fried food in her life “—she knows who was here. She’s got a guilty look about her.”

In reality, she looked mildly revolted as she surveyed the diner and tried to make herself as small as possible, as if the fat in the air might attach itself to her thighs somehow. Taylor was amused. Oscar was bored. None of them seemed interested in trophies or recipes. It was hard to rule out an interest in money. “How much do you think was taken?” Andi had no idea how much business the Country Kitchen did, but any loss would be hard to absorb.

Jackie shrugged. “Have to check my ledger, but I think I had about eight hundred dollars and some change on hand.” He shook his head and strangled the spotless white towel in his hands. “Those papers are priceless, Sheriff!” Jackie grabbed her wrist and waited for her eyes to meet his. “I mean it. Those papers...they’re important.”

Andi spent a lot of time being annoyed at Jackie. It was an automatic reflex at this point, but the look on his face said he was worried and maybe a little...sad. She smiled with confidence, hoping to encourage him. “All right, Jackie. Let’s find them then.”

With a sigh, she settled down at the counter. “First, I’m going to need a big, steaming cup of black coffee, and keep it coming.”

Jackie crossed his arms over his chest and shot her an evil glare. “Sheriff, I’m losing business until you secure this crime scene.”

Andi silently counted to ten. Coffee was pretty much the only forensic aid she had at her disposal. “Of course you are, but coffee helps me think. While you get the coffee, I’ll take some pictures and a closer look, maybe dust the trophy case for fingerprints. Then, after you get the next cup, I’ll quickly interview everyone over there at that booth.”

She turned to point at the booth she always sat in when she came to Jackie’s. From there, she could see both the sidewalk and the kitchen, allowing her to time the arrival of her food and anticipate any unexpected visits from the mayor or Ray Evans, the former sheriff. He’d been forced to drop out of the last election after a heart attack, but he was back in fighting shape now, fifty pounds lighter and at least twice as mean—but only to Andi. Since she’d taken office, he liked to shoot her dismissive looks, make snide comments under his breath and generally act as a thorn in her side.

Jackie stormed off as Andi approached the trophy stand. He might be hard to please, but he kept a spotless place. Wanda didn’t have much to worry about in the Country Kitchen. If fat left any residue, Jackie had ruthlessly eliminated it along with any other dust and dirt. The imitation wood grain of the six-foot-tall trophy case was almost spotless. The sliding glass doors that normally kept prying fingers away were open and moved to one side. There didn’t appear to be any scratches on the wood or smudges on the glass. Figuring out how a person could manage that would be a gift to humanity.

“Sheriff, I gotta say it’s an unexpected pleasure to run into you this morning. May I say you’re looking lovely as always.” Andi could see Mark Taylor’s face reflected in the glass and did her best to appear perfectly unaffected yet slightly annoyed. Despite her best effort, Mark Taylor’s husky voice that close to her ear sent a shiver down her spine. In a good way.

“Annoyed” was her number-one defense. If she spent too much time around him without it, she started to think about how handsome he was and how long it had been since she’d had dinner with a man, good-looking or otherwise. Thoughts like that distracted her from how dangerous he was, how easy he made it to trust him. And that was the last thing she needed. The only time she wanted to wind up on the front page was when she won this election.

She didn’t turn to face him, but he stood close enough that she could smell clean clothes and warm man. It was a good smell. Andi licked her lips and said, “I am busy here, Mr. Taylor. We can chat momentarily.”

When she braved a glance his direction, his lips twitched and he gave her a small salute. “I live to serve, Sheriff. Although I am going to enjoy having the shoe on the other foot.”

“What do you mean?” Andi asked.

“I mean you’ll be the one asking questions this time. Maybe I’ll be easier to work with than you are.” He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for her answer.

She forced her shoulders back down to their normal spot and fought the urge to fidget with her shirt. “Of course, the fact that I wear a badge and gun will help you make a decision.”

He whistled and went to sit at the counter.

Rolling her eyes at how easily he distracted her, Andi thanked her lucky stars Jackie’d been preoccupied.

Andi took out her phone and snapped a few pictures of the case and the sparkling glass before she walked over to check the door. There were no signs of forced entry on the inside. There were no scratches on the lock outside the door, either. No marks on the door. No broken glass. She went back to the office to snap pictures of the safe and Jackie’s spotless desk. The safe had an electronic keypad, but it was just a good, basic burglar-and-fire safe. Whoever had broken in had spent the time to get it open instead of hauling it away. But why take the trophies? This didn’t feel like a random theft.

Andi made a quick trip to her SUV to pull up the field kit. As she did her best to find clear, unique fingerprints on the door, the trophy case and the safe, she cataloged questions and what she knew. And just as she’d expected, she couldn’t find a single print she’d call evidence.

She stepped back into the dining room and propped her hands on her hips, taking one last look to make sure she hadn’t missed a thing. Every table in the restaurant looked to be perfectly placed, neat and set for the morning’s service. The white counter and stools along the front of the room were absolutely spotless. The black-and-white linoleum looked clean enough to eat off of. A small crowd stood outside on the sidewalk. Andi opened the door and gestured for them to come inside.

As they entered, she handed each one a menu. “Morning, folks. You’re welcome to sit anywhere. Someone will be over to get your breakfast order in just a minute.”

Jackie didn’t need to lose any business. And Mayor Jones didn’t need to see distressed tourists loitering on the sidewalk. Andi contemplated darting out to move the bench back to where it belonged, but Jackie set her coffee on the counter.

“Jackie, you can open for business. I just want to ask a few quick questions for now.”

He nodded curtly and marched over to her usual booth. He slid in and slammed his crossed arms on top of the table. As she picked up the coffee mug, Andi said in a low voice to the remaining suspects, “Thank you for your patience. I’ll have you back on your way as soon as possible. Oscar, you can go ahead and get their orders. Jackie will be back in a second.”

Oscar smoothly pulled out his pad and glided over to the table by the window where a family of four was perusing the menu. Their study shouldn’t take long. At breakfast Jackie was big on the basics: pancakes, biscuits, sausage, bacon and eggs. The only real question was how much food they wanted piled up on the table at one time.

Andi slid in across from Jackie and pulled out her notebook and pen. She used to rely on her memory for all the pertinent details. Then Mark Taylor moved to town and Andi decided she might need her own little notebook.

“So, Jackie, is the diner exactly as you found it this morning when you came in?”

“You mean other than the lineup of criminals sitting at my counter? Yes. I didn’t touch anything.”

“Other than the door and the phone, you didn’t touch anything, right?”

His bushy brows beetled over his nose. “Well, yeah, I had to touch the phone to call your office, didn’t I?”

“And to call Mr. Taylor.” Andi sipped her coffee and watched the color rise in Jackie’s cheeks. He gritted his teeth and nodded curtly.

“What about the trophy case?” Andi asked. “Was it locked when you left last night?”

He stared over his shoulder as if the trophy case would tell him the answer. When he looked back, he was frowning, but he finally nodded. In her book, Andi noted that the case might have been unlocked. He didn’t look certain.

“Was the safe locked? And where do you keep the combination?” Andi watched him think.

“Yes, the safe was locked. I didn’t have the combination written down anywhere I can think of.” He sighed. “But I kept the override key in the top drawer of the desk. Probably wouldn’t have been hard to find if he knew what he was looking for.”

She made a note to check for prints on the key. A savvy robber might expect the key to be hidden in the desk, but it didn’t change her mind that the thief was somebody who knew Jackie pretty well. He had a thing for organization and efficiency.

“And where was Wanda Blankenship when you stopped her?”

He huffed once. “She ran past me while I was unlocking the door. You know she makes laps. When she came by again, I grabbed her and told her to sit right down.”

Andi pursed her lips. “And she did? She sat right down when you told her to?”

Jackie shrugged. “I might have threatened to tell a secret about her if she didn’t stay put.”

Andi paused, her pen ready to add whatever shocking secret Jackie had over Wanda Blankenship, but he picked that moment to clam up. “And what is that secret?”

He shook his head. “Nope. I won’t tell.”

“Listen, Jackie, it’s honorable to keep secrets for people who’ve asked you to, but it might help me to know what Wanda’s hiding. I’m pretty good at keeping secrets, too.”

He frowned. “I might need that secret someday. It’s already helped me once. I’m not giving it up.”

Andi fought the urge to sigh. It was difficult but she managed, barely, to meet his eyes. “And it has nothing to do with this case?”

“Can’t see how it does, Sheriff.” He met her stare without flinching, and Andi decided to move on.

“Okay, does the restaurant have a back door, Jackie?” This strip of Main Street had been converted to smaller spaces from a large mercantile. Some of them had back entrances and some didn’t.

Jackie shook his head. “No, Sheriff, we use the front door, have to carry trash around the end of the block to the Dumpsters out back.” He pulled out his order pad as the door clanged shut behind new customers. Jackie glanced at them and back at Andi. “It’s a real pain.”

She jotted down his answer. “You mentioned important documents. Like deeds and legal papers...that sort of thing?”

“Yeah, stuff I wanted to keep safe, things that...well, it’s all important but some of it’s...it can’t be replaced.” He made the wrap-it-up gesture. “Just find my property, Sheriff. Fast. Mona’s going to be real upset until you do, and I can’t have that. The twelve gold trophies ought to be a real easy trail to follow.” He pointed over at the new table of customers. “All right if I go now?”

She nodded. And made a note that Wanda wasn’t the only one with some kind of secret. Jackie didn’t want to talk about whatever was in the safe. Andi wrote down his wife’s name and a big question mark.

Figuring she knew how it well it would go, Andi sucked up her frustration before calling over her shoulder, “Oscar, can I talk to you for a second?”

He silently glided over and hovered.

Andi pointed at the seat across from her. “Do you want to sit down?”

There was a minute adjustment of Oscar’s head that might be a refusal. Apparently he preferred to stand.

“Jackie said you arrived after he did this morning. Is that right?” Another infinitesimal adjustment that might be construed as a nod. “What time did you leave yesterday?” Andi waited. This was going to be good.

“Four.” She didn’t know that she’d ever heard Oscar speak, but he had a nice, deep voice.

“Can anyone verify your whereabouts between four and when you arrived this morning?”

Her answer was a small tic that looked like a no but might also be a yes. She sighed. “All right, Oscar, go ahead and get back to work. I’ll track you down if I have any more questions.” And a deep desire to ram my head against the wall. Oscar would have known about the safe and the key, but he had to be smart enough to know he’d be the number-one suspect if something like this happened.

Andi glanced over to see Wanda Blankenship and Mark Taylor in what appeared to be a cozy conversation. Wanda was leaning against him. One tanned, leanly muscled shoulder rested against him. Andi took a deep breath. “Miss Blankenship, can I talk to you for a second? I know you need to be on your way.”

Wanda looked at Andi impatiently before she patted Mark on the back. She leaned forward to whisper something in his ear, and they both laughed at whatever sparkling gem that might be before she slid off the stool. There’s no other word for it. The woman was a slinker. She slunk across the diner toward the booth, and Mark Taylor seemed to appreciate every minute.

Wanda perched gingerly on the seat before she waved at him. Andi noisily flipped the page in her notebook to get Wanda’s attention. “So, Wanda, I understand you were running on your normal circuit this morning when Jackie stopped you.”

Wanda pouted. “Yes, Sheriff, I was running the block around the courthouse square like I do every day. I didn’t notice anyone near this place as I ran, but it was dark when I started. The sun had come up when I saw Jackie unlocking the door.”

Andi nodded. “Why’d you stop when he told you to?”

The question rattled Wanda, who was clearly wondering whether Jackie had given away her secret, but she’d played this game before. She leaned back against the leather of the booth. “I am a good citizen and a business owner myself, of course. If I can help in any way to apprehend criminals who break into the businesses of our fair town, then I am certainly glad to do so. Besides, I didn’t steal anything.” She tilted her head forward. “Where in the world would I hide it?”

Wanda was laying it on pretty thick, which made Andi reconsider how juicy a secret it would be.

“Jackie says you’ve got a secret. He wouldn’t share it. Would you like to? What makes an innocent woman follow Jackie’s orders?”

She widened her doe eyes and fluttered her eyelashes. At this point it had to be natural instinct or just habit. It had no effect on Andi.

One delicate shoulder rose slowly. “Well, Sheriff, I—” she glanced around the diner and back at Mark Taylor before she leaned forward over the table “—depend on Jackie to keep certain habits secret.”

Andi tried to process that as she asked, “Like...?” She couldn’t come up with a single possibility.

Wanda squeezed her eyes shut and then she mouthed, Pie.

Andi leaned back against the booth. “Did you just say pie?”

Wanda bit her lip. “I’ve got a real bad problem. Jackie’s my supplier. The town’s only fitness icon...and I’m addicted to pie.” Her eyes filled with what seemed to be real tears, and Andi was stumped.

Finally she asked, “Where were you after the Country Kitchen closed last night?”

Wanda sniffed. “I left The Gym at my usual time, about six. I didn’t leave the house until I started my run down here, and I think Jackie was the first person I ran into.”

Wanda Blankenship owned the single health club in town. To be technically correct, her father owned it, but if anyone wanted a treadmill, an elliptical machine, a swimming pool or a tanning bed, then Wanda’s place was the only game in town. She was a walking advertisement for good health and the benefits of regular exercise and short visits to tanning beds.

Wanda had plenty of time to break into the diner and no alibi, but from the mild look of dismay on her face, Andi was nearly certain Wanda would never want to. Unless she needed a way to counter Jackie knowing her secret, but what would she have been hoping to use as leverage?

Andi drew a line through her name on the list of suspects and quickly did the same with Mark Taylor. She just couldn’t imagine what the motive might be.

Wanda looked down at her watch. “Am I free to go, Sheriff?” Andi nodded and picked up her steaming hot cup of coffee. As she sipped, Andi watched Wanda sashay across the diner to the counter where Mark Taylor sat checking his phone for whatever he checked...text messages from girlfriends, hot tips on no-news events in town, sports scores. When Wanda patted his back and bent down to say something, he laughed. Wanda turned to leave and amped up the seduction in her walk. All eyes, even those of the twelve-year-old boy in the booth by the window, followed her exit.

With a deep sigh, Mark Taylor turned to say, “Ready for me, Sheriff?”

Andi really didn’t think she was. She took another sip of coffee and put it carefully back on the table. “You bet.”

CHAPTER TWO

MARK TAYLOR SLID into the booth across from prickly Sheriff Andrea Jackson. Facing off against her was familiar but that didn’t make it any less interesting. Or exciting. She was not a restful person. She was...motivated. Busy. Determined to prove herself. He ought to know. He was recovering from the same obsession himself. Burnout and watching his first wife walk away with a man who’d be home every night had convinced him to try a new life, one with free time and fishing.

Covering bake sales and school plays had taken some adjustment, but he’d embraced his new life wholeheartedly and had the lower blood pressure and friends in town to show for it.

When he settled against the booth, she crossed her arms defensively. As always, he watched the sheriff closely without letting her know he did. She wore her normal spotless uniform and had her hair pulled back so tightly he was surprised she could move her eyebrows. She looked like the type of person who’d build her own ammunition just for fun. He’d bet the fortune he didn’t have that she wasn’t wearing a speck of makeup. She was too tightly wound but pretty.

He braced his elbows on the table. The sheriff flipped a page in her notebook and did not meet his eyes. “So, Sheriff, how goes the investigation?” She was stubborn and uncommunicative on the best days. He wouldn’t get much out of her without a poke.

“Fine. Want to tell me why you’re here if you had nothing to do with this?”

He shrugged. “I knew there would be a good story. We put the paper out yesterday so it’s time to start rounding up the news for next week.”

He leaned forward like he had a secret. “That’s sorta how the whole newspaper thing works, you know.”

Andi picked up her full cup of coffee and stared at it for a second. As he’d chatted with pretty, obvious Wanda Blankenship, he’d watched the sheriff and the rest of the diners. The sheriff was good at focus. She’d probably noticed every hair out of place on Jackie or Wanda, but she was bad on the periphery. He’d had experience in cataloging lots of tiny details all at once. Good stories depended on those. Oscar had refilled her cup at least once, and it was clear that this was the first time she realized it. He watched her watch Oscar and could almost see the lightbulb go on over her head.

“Do his ninjalike coffee skills make you wonder what else he might be capable of?” he asked as he reached over to ruffle the pages of her notebook. When she snapped her head back, stiffened in her seat and snatched her notebook out of his reach, he added a mental note to the list of things he wanted to know about the sheriff. What’s in the notebook?

Curiosity had always been one of his best assets. It was also one of his biggest challenges. He’d never learned how to let a story go, something his ex-wife had shouted more than once.

When he pulled his hand back, Andi took a deep, calming breath. And then she went back on the offensive. “Oscar’s skills aren’t all that important right now, Mr. Taylor. Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts between the time the restaurant closed and when you arrived this morning?”

Something about that “Mr. Taylor” got to him. He wanted to ruffle her a bit. She wouldn’t put up with it for long—she never had any time to waste. He’d better make it good.

He shook his head. “Nope, Sheriff. I spent last night at home.” He leaned forward again and looked up at her through his eyelashes. “I was all alone.”

Andi scribbled a note and met his stare again.

“Isn’t that sad?”

“That no one can vouch for your whereabouts?”

He shook his head. “No, that I was all alone.”

Andi snorted. Or tried to. It came out as a strangled snarf, but he gave her points for trying. With a huff, she retorted, “That is very sad. Hearts all over Tall Pines and the tri-county area would break if they heard such a sad story.”

He did his best not to laugh. Andi Jackson was adorable when she was riled.

“All right, Mr. Taylor. If I have any more questions, I know where to find you.” When he didn’t move, Andi raised both eyebrows. “You can go.” She made little encouraging gestures with both hands.

He started to ease out of the booth but paused on the edge. He didn’t want to leave. “You know, Sheriff, I’m a pretty good investigator. I spent a few years working the crime beat for the state paper before I came here.” His skills were a little rusty, but offering to help might get him into the tight-lipped sheriff’s good graces. Getting any info out of her was next to impossible. “I’d be happy to assist with your investigation. We could exchange information. Sure would make my job easier and the story better.”

She nodded once. “Thank you, Mr. Taylor. I will let you know if I have any questions.”

He shrugged one shoulder and stood. “I guess I’ll just have to stick close to you, Sheriff Jackson. For my readers.”

Andi slapped her notebook closed and slid it into her pocket with authority. And meaning. What would she think if she knew he found that cute rather than authoritative? He should have his head examined. “We’ll have to see about that, Mr. Taylor. I can’t have you interfering with an investigation.”

Of course not. She’d fight every step. That could be both frustrating and fun. He wanted to know what her problem was, why she fought him so hard. Some cops were glory hounds, anxious to get their names on the first page. Not Sheriff Jackson, not even in an election year. It was weird.

“I’m not sure you’re seeing the big picture, Sheriff. A newspaper editor spends a lot of time tracking down the real story and in this town, there’s a whole lot more than meets the eye. I know a few things that might surprise you.” He thumped the table with two fingers and smiled at her over his shoulder as he left the diner.

* * *

ANDI WATCHED HIM leave. She couldn’t help it. Jeans and a polo were his normal summer uniform, but it worked for him.

As she slid out of the booth, Mark stepped outside and maneuvered the heavy bench back into place under the window. When it was situated in the perfect spot, he stood up and put both hands on his hips. Their eyes met through the window and he ducked his head as if to say, See what I did there?

Andi rolled her eyes and fought back a smile. She mouthed, Thank you. He nodded once, then turned around to take a seat. Sitting on a bench and watching the world go by might actually be part of a newspaper editor’s job. The boredom would probably kill her. Andi looked around the diner. Since the breakfast crowd didn’t appear to be too hectic, she walked over to the counter. “Jackie, I’m just going to take another quick look in the back.”

He waved a hand as if to say, Sure, don’t bother me, as he went to help a customer at the cash register.

Oscar was washing dishes as she walked through the swinging door. Jackie could stand to have extra help. Andi wandered back to Jackie’s office and made note of the window over the freezer in the back. The window was small and pretty high off the ground, but someone Oscar’s size could fit through it. She stretched, but the freezer kept her from reaching the latch.

“Hey, Jackie?” Andi called out. He stuck his head through the order window. “Is this window locked?”

Jackie glanced from her to the window. “Well, yes, why wouldn’t it be?”

Andi silently counted to ten. “Are you sure it’s locked?”

Jackie’s lips moved without sound before he said, “Oscar, grab a chair and check the window.”

They both waited while Oscar floated across the kitchen to Jackie’s office. He came back with what appeared to be the first metal chair ever made. Rust dotted the legs, and Andi wondered if metal ever got dry rot. When he climbed on top, she moved behind to catch him in case the metal gave up the ghost.

Oscar yanked on the handle, and the window rose soundlessly.

“Why is that window unlocked?” Jackie’s face was a brilliant red, and Andi wondered if the three hairs he had left were going to run away in fear.

Oscar shrugged. Andi did, too. “Well, I’m going to take a look outside. I’ll let you know if I find anything new, Jackie.”

* * *

MARK DID HIS best to contain a grin when Andi turned the corner into the crazily clean alley behind the diner, saw him leaning against the wall and cursed silently. He’d have to give Sheriff Jackson credit. No matter how often he caught her off guard, she recovered quickly. This time she straightened her shoulders and resumed a precise march.

“What are you doing back here, Mr. Taylor?” She didn’t meet his stare but obviously looked to his left and right in what she’d call “searching for clues.” There were none. He knew that very well.

“Just waiting on you, Sheriff.”

Andi pulled out her phone to take pictures of the alley. “You didn’t touch anything, did you?” There was a scowl on her face. Mark figured it was an automatic reaction at this point. He decided then and there to change it. Automatic smiles were so much better, made for easier working conditions. And her smiles were really nice, probably because they were rare.

He shook his head. “No, ma’am. I used to work with the police a lot. I only invaded one crime scene without permission, but I learned quickly not to do it again. The detective had a good six inches and a hundred pounds on me.”

“Did you destroy any evidence that time?” Andi glanced back to watch him.

“Nah. I got lucky. My guardian angel kept me out of trouble that time or maybe it was dumb luck. Either way, I’m pretty sure the only reason I’m standing here today is because Detective Wright yanked me back by the scruff of my neck just as I was about to make a fatal error.”

Andi was curious. He could tell by the way she turned her head in his direction without really looking at him. She was also determined not to ask. “Okay, do you want to tell me what you’re doing back here? Other than standing right beside the scene I’m investigating?” He was cramping her style. Good. That would make him impossible to ignore. She’d already given him more than her normal blank-faced “no comment.”

“Just want to make sure I’ve got enough details for my story, Sheriff.” He glanced around the alley. “I don’t see much of interest back here.”

Andi shot him a peeved glare.

He held up both hands. “Don’t shoot the messenger. Tall Pines may be the only place in the world where even the back alleys are litter free.”

He ticked off his observations on the fingers of one hand. “Pavement means no footprints or tire tracks. Window’s got no scrapes or scratches. Traffic on a weeknight is almost nonexistent so the thief had the opportunity to come in through that window, even with a stepladder, but there’s nothing here to say he did.”

Andi propped her hands on her hips. “There’s no proof that he or she did, but the window was unlocked so I can’t rule it out.”

“Not much to go on, is it?”

Andi shook her head. “On the bright side, no one murdered the mayor or robbed a bank, either.”

They walked back toward the end of the alley.

“Still, you know Jackie’s going to make your life difficult until he has someone to point fingers at.” He shrugged. “And, of course, there’s the fact that you don’t like loose ends.”

Andi frowned at him. “How do you know my feelings on loose ends?”

“Good guess.” He surveyed her neat uniform, tidy hair, polished boots and precise steps. “Let me help.”

Andi raised both eyebrows, communicating her surprise and disbelief. “Why would you want to help me? What’s in it for you?”

“I know it’s not easy to deal with an unhappy Jackie. Plus, it’s good for me, too. People read the Times for news and stuff. This would be the news. Most of the time, I’ve just got a whole lot of the stuff.” He thrust both hands in his jeans pockets. After what felt like a full minute of contemplating his arms, Andi locked both eyes back on his face. He moved closer as if he was about to tell an important secret. Andi started to lean back but managed to hold her ground. “And, if helping you out with this case means that from now on you’ll be a little more open to sharing information, I consider it worth the effort.”

When he stepped back, Andi inhaled deeply and blinked before she said, “Mr. Taylor, you and I both know why I won’t be accepting your offer. Besides, I’m really good at this. You just go ahead and toss your lure in the lake, okay? I’ll let you know how it all turns out.”

Mark whistled. “Hmm, a low blow.” He reached down and grabbed her hand to slow her forceful retreat. “Sheriff, no matter how hard you work today, there’s going to be twice as much tomorrow. Twice as many crooks. Twice as many questions with no answers. You should learn to enjoy each day anyway. The work will always be there. Don’t forget about life.” He trailed his thumb over her pulse and the smooth, warm skin of her wrist before he let her hand slide out of his.

* * *

REFUSING TO RUB away the odd warmth lingering on her wrist, Andi turned and walked over to her SUV. The sun had risen, so instead of a nice, shaded truck, it was a metal box set on broil. Add that to the fact that she’d probably had her weekly intake of caffeine between the ride over to the diner and Oscar’s ninja coffee skills and the close proximity to the newspaper editor and Andi was starting to feel a bit steamed and a whole lot jittery. She needed air-conditioning, a gallon of water and some distance. It was no wonder her fingers were tingling like that. It probably had nothing to do with Mark Taylor.

Taking a deep breath, Andi yanked open the door and managed not to take two steps back from the heat blast. Leather seats were such a bad idea.

Still, she was satisfied that she’d managed to stand her ground with Mark Taylor even if she hadn’t actually gained any. Andi dropped down in the driver’s seat with a wince at the heat baking through her uniform pants, started the car and pulled away from the curb. As she reached down to crank up the air conditioner, she looked in the rearview mirror. Mark Taylor was standing at the edge of the curb watching her drive away with that smirk on his face. Andi was suddenly less sure whether she was holding her ground or losing the battle and she just didn’t know it yet.

CHAPTER THREE

THE SHORT TRIP back to the office was lengthened by multiple stops for nervous tourists who were darting into the streets outside the designated crosswalks. If the pavement hadn’t been hotter than the sun, Andi might have pulled over and issued some stern warnings. Jaywalking was illegal—it was a safety issue. Scaring people straight was part of the sheriff’s job, but the mayor didn’t appreciate that.

When she finally pulled into her designated parking spot, Andi turned off the ignition. She might have rested for a bit except she was afraid of baking her brain. She slid out quickly and slammed the door. Her palms still had a slight tingle going on, the effect of a massive amount of caffeine. Obviously.

“Morning, Sheriff.” Lori had taken Nettie’s spot at the dispatch desk. Nettie worked early mornings, when things were a bit slower and she didn’t have to deal with as many citizens. Andi envied her the right to choose.

Lori and Andi had gone to school together, but Lori stayed in Tall Pines to marry, divorce and remarry. Every greeting she issued might come with a smile, but there was also the edge of sharp teeth and the hint of a grimace. She’d worked for the old sheriff and might resent Andi taking his spot. He was her father, after all. Still, a job was a job and in Tall Pines, no one quit a good job on the principle of the thing. They were just too hard to come by. So Lori performed right on the edge, well enough to keep coming in every day but not so well that it could be misconstrued as approval or anything other than a deep-seated wish to inflict nonfelonious harm.

Lori and Andi had a history anyway. Lori had been homecoming queen and head cheerleader. Andi had been president of the math club, a desperate overachiever intent on winning a college scholarship. She’d snatched valedictorian out of Lori’s pom-pom-waving paws at the last minute and still congratulated herself on that now and then. Lori probably didn’t think about it much. She had two beautiful little boys to show off. Pictures lined the wall beside the dispatch desk. The towheaded twins had to be about eight years old. Their names were Alexander and Andrew and they were perfectly identical. When they came in, Andi had no idea which was which and settled for a jovial and nonspecific “boys” whenever she had to address them directly.

Andi’s small pangs of jealousy hadn’t driven her to put up pictures of her cat, Mojo, on the same wall. Not yet.

“Morning, Lori. Is there anything urgent?”

“Nope. Dan’s headed out to check on the one call we’ve got. Mrs. Haley thinks there’s been someone prowling around her garage at night.”

Andi nodded. This prowler would probably be just like the last, a deer knocking over the chairs on Mrs. Haley’s porch, but the woman had a shotgun and an active imagination. It would be a good thing to check out.

Andi waved at Dan as he stood up from one of the four desks crammed into the large room. It was time for the patrols to change over, so both Dan Jones and Jimmy Monroe were there. Jimmy was writing a report, and Dan had just finished checking any notes left from the previous shift. It was a small office. There were six full-time deputies for the entire county and reserves who helped out as needed.

Jimmy looked up. “Anything we need to know about the incident over at Jackie’s?”

Andi scratched her forehead as she tried to figure out how to answer. “Well, his trophies and the money and everything else in his safe were stolen. He’d corralled Oscar, his busboy, Wanda Blankenship and Mark Taylor when I got there. I couldn’t see any signs of a break-in, and Jackie swears the door was locked when he got there.”

Dan crossed his arms over his chest and Jimmy leaned back in his chair. Andi could smell Lori hovering behind her. She had a thing for strawberry bubble gum.

“So it’s somebody with a key,” Dan said. “Should be easy enough to figure out.”

Andi agreed. Mostly. “Unless it’s a random thief who’s good with locks and safes.”

They both shook their heads. “Doesn’t seem likely.”

“Except...I can’t rule it out, either,” Andi said.

Dan held up three fingers. “C’mon, boss. Motive. Means. Opportunity.”

“It’s hard to come up with a reason for stealing trophies, but money’s always a motivator.”

Lori popped a bubble dangerously close to Andi’s ponytail. She couldn’t help but think it would be even more difficult to prove criminal intent for gum in her hair.

Dan picked up his radio and walked around the desk. “Sounds personal, boss. You should definitely find out if Jackie has any enemies.”

All three of them were quiet for a minute before Andi snorted. “Right. This is Jackie we’re talking about. If he wasn’t the best chili cook in this part of the state, he probably would’ve been chased out of town after his second lawsuit.”

Both Dan and Jimmy nodded. They had strict instructions to stay away from Jackie. One of the deputies in the former administration had gotten too close for comfort, and Jackie had taken him all the way to court for harassment. He hadn’t won, but the court of public opinion was harder to argue with than the men in black robes.

Jimmy slapped Andi on the shoulder. “Well, there’s always the traffic camera.” Another heavy silence filled the room before all four of them burst out into guffaws. The traffic camera was suggested at least once a season, most often by a tourist who’d seen years of police dramas and wanted to find out whether something had been taken from his car or hotel room.

Tall Pines had a single stoplight on the two-lane highway that ran through town. And there was no camera on it. Everywhere else, traffic was controlled by well-placed stop signs and law-abiding citizens. Most of the time everyone was happy to live in a place where the only security they might need was the lock their car or house was already equipped with.

“I will certainly get right on that, Deputy. That is a fabulous suggestion.”

Dan waved as he walked out into the bright sunshine. Lori wiped the smudged mascara from underneath her eyes and wandered back to the dispatch desk. Jimmy shuffled the paperwork on his desk into a folder and handed it to Andi. “Let me know if I can give you any help with that investigation, boss.”

She nodded and slid the folder under her arm as she headed for her office. “Sure thing. You guys might want to avoid the Country Kitchen for a bit. Jackie will make any visit miserable until I can get some information for him.”

“Got it,” Jimmy said. “See you tomorrow.”

Andi made a detour to the small kitchenette for a glass of ice-cold water. As she perched on the edge of her chair and did her best to ignore the squawk it made as she leaned back, Andi set the glass down and pulled out her notebook.

She opened a new incident report and transcribed the few details she’d managed to pick up from her interrogation of the “suspects.” She also tried to brush aside the memory of Mark Taylor’s hand wrapped around hers.

Her gut said this was an inside job. Someone with a key had waited until the diner was closed to take the money Jackie had on hand. Surely everything else was an afterthought. Why take trophies?

Knowing Jackie and his suspicious nature, the list of people with keys would be short. Maybe only Jackie, in fact. Maybe his wife, Mona. Possibly Oscar. But the back window was unlocked, so all three of the people she’d interviewed had means and opportunity, as well. Maybe Jackie had accidentally left it that way. Maybe Oscar had opened it for himself or someone else. She didn’t figure Jackie drank his coffee out of a World’s Best Boss mug.

As far as an action plan, she had only two options. First, Andi would have to ask Jackie what his list of enemies looked like. She’d need to take a much larger notebook on that day. And second, she needed to get her hair done. Luckily, it had been almost two months since her last visit, and she had an appointment already scheduled. She could take care of both tomorrow.

* * *

AFTER A BLISSFUL afternoon spent at her desk pushing paper around and detoxing from a caffeine high, Andi decided to relax at the Smokehouse—Tall Pines’s answer to finer dining. Jackie’s business was a breakfast, lunch and snack proposition except when the fall color hit. For the Fall Festival, he spruced up his dinner menu with chili any way and every way he could imagine it. Otherwise, the Smokehouse was the place to go for an evening meal.

When she walked into the shadowy coolness of the restaurant, Andi sighed with relief. It was a bit early for dinner but that would be a good thing. She could avoid the mayor and enjoy her meal in peace and quiet.

A steady flip-flop approached, and Andi turned and smiled at Sarah Wilson. The Wilsons had been her neighbors growing up. Sarah’s parents still lived in Tall Pines but Andi did her absolute best to avoid that neighborhood now. It was too painful.

“Afternoon, Sheriff. Want your usual spot?” If she’d thought about it for a minute, it might have bothered Andi that she was so predictable. She had usual drinks, usual meals and usual spots. That constituted a rut.

“That’d be great.” Andi followed her to the table, biting back the advice that wanted to tumble out regarding proper restaurant footwear. It wasn’t her place. And so what if flip-flop, flip-flop was annoying? If it didn’t bother Amanda in her own restaurant, then it shouldn’t bother Andi. Clearly, she needed to concentrate on what was important here: dessert.

Andi decided to take the seat facing the kitchen, with her back toward the door. The place was deserted now but it was only a matter of time until someone came in, spotted her and tried to pump her for information on what had happened at Jackie’s. She had no illusions about the spread of the story. At this time of day, Andi could call somebody two counties away and get some distorted version of what had happened, what she said and where the body was hidden.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Sarah asked.

“Sweet tea, please,” Andi responded, as always. Sarah flip-flopped her way to the kitchen to get Andi’s drink.

Even though she’d be having her usual, Andi perused the menu because that was the right thing to do in restaurants. A small breeze stirred over her shoulder and, thinking it was Sarah returning with the tea, Andi looked up with a smile on her face.

Mark Taylor smiled back. “Well, Sheriff, I have to say I didn’t expect such a warm welcome.” He pulled out the seat across from her and sat down before he rested both elbows on the table. “What are we having?”

Andi snapped the menu closed and got ready to blast him. She did not want her dinner interrupted by Jackie’s case.

Sarah intervened with a sweaty glass of iced tea. “Well, Mark, I didn’t know you were joining the sheriff. What can I get you to drink?”

Andi opened her mouth to say that his drink should be delivered to another table, any other table, but she could tell with one quick look that Sarah would have trouble remembering anything she might say. Her large blue eyes were locked on Mark Taylor like he was the second coming of Tom Cruise right here in Tall Pines.

He didn’t see her worshipping gaze. When Andi looked at Mark to give him the stunning glare of death, he was smiling back at her. “And that’s more like it.” He shot a glance up at beautiful young Sarah and said, “Make it tea.”

She nodded distractedly. Andi wondered if Sarah heard his answer but then realized it didn’t matter. She would have his choice memorized.

“Are y’all ready to order?” Sarah asked them both, but she was looking at Mark.

Clearing her throat, Andi said loudly, “I’ll have the chef salad with vinaigrette on the side, Sarah.”

Sarah nodded again but didn’t take out her notepad. She had probably already put in Andi’s usual order.

“A salad? In a rib joint?” Mark looked at Andi. Both eyebrows were raised and his mouth hung open. He was clearly offended. He glanced up at Sarah. “Can she do that?”

Sarah answered with a maniacal giggle. “Well, I guess so, Mark. She does it almost every time she comes in.”

He shook his head as if he couldn’t quite believe it but he’d allow it anyway and handed over the menu. “I think I’ll have the special tonight, Sarah. And make sure it has the sweet sauce instead of the mild, okay?”

She stacked the menus and put extra swish in her exit, glancing back over her shoulder to see if she had an audience. When she saw that Andi was the only one watching, she straightened her shoulders, slammed the menus back in the basket next to the phone and pushed through the swinging doors.

“So, Sheriff, a salad? Here? In the home of the best ribs in the northeast part of the state?” His lips twitched as he pointed to the sign hanging over the front door that listed that exact honor. The Smokehouse had been voted number one in the newspaper’s annual poll.

Andi nodded. “Yes, but you’ll wish you’d gone a different route when Sarah brings me a slice of cheesecake bigger than my head.”

“Ah, I get it. You store up a few karmic calories so that you splurge on dessert.” Mark shrugged. “Whereas I live by the philosophy that there’s absolutely no reason I can’t have both if I want to.”

Andi tapped her finger to her lip before she said, “You know, that doesn’t surprise me a bit.” She opened her napkin with a snap and spread it over her legs. “And if I lived by that philosophy, I’d definitely have to buy a bigger uniform.”

“Sheriff, I’m beginning to think you don’t know me at all.” Mark made a show of glancing over her tan uniform. “But this uniform looks pretty good on you, so your philosophy must be working.”

Andi couldn’t help it. She rolled her eyes.

He laughed. “What? You don’t think my flattery is sincere?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure anything about you is sincere.” It was a good thing the restaurant went for mood lighting. If they’d been anywhere with lightbulbs stronger than forty watts, he’d be able to see how flustered he made her. Sarah brought out their drinks, a basket of rolls and pats of butter. She didn’t say a word but retreated to the front door to greet any new visitors that might come in.

“Now, Sheriff. That sorta hurts my feelings.” Andi couldn’t see it in this lighting but he might have slapped on a halo before he answered. “I believe you have me pegged as some sort of city slicker out to pull the wool over your eyes for some nefarious reason.”

Andi shook her head. “No. I have you pegged as some city clicker who’s out to pull the wool over my eyes because it keeps you entertained. And if you get a juicy story, too, so much the better. It sells papers.” She snorted. “Am I wrong? You did move here from the city. You do seem to take extreme pleasure in poking at me. And now you’re trying to convince me that you find my uniform attractive. And the truth is you could crook your finger and have any number of women lined up, so there’s no reason to tease me.”

As he buttered a roll, he considered Andi’s answer. He took a big bite and offered the rest to her. She gave him a repressive frown but knew it was a waste of time.

After a quick swig of tea, he said, “Yes, I moved here from the city but maybe that’s an example of my sound judgment. Did you ever figure that?” Without waiting for her answer, he added, “And I enjoy teasing you, that part’s true. If you could see your face, you’d have a hard time always doing the right thing, too.”

He leaned forward. “And as far as that uniform goes, I never meant to say I found it attractive.” Andi shook her head and managed to meet his gaze. “I find you attractive. And that’s nothing but the truth.”

He sat back with a satisfied smirk on his face. Andi needed a gulp of air but she didn’t want to appear undignified. To buy some time, she picked up her glass and managed to snort tea straight up her nose. As she coughed and sputtered, Mark calmly devoured his roll.

After she wiped her face and managed to catch her breath, Andi croaked, “You can’t say things like that to me. Are you trying to kill me?”

He laughed softly and shook his head.

“Listen, I don’t know anything new about Jackie’s robbery yet. When I do, I’ll pass it along, okay? I promise. You don’t have to follow me around to eavesdrop.”

“Okay. Glad to hear it.” He picked up another roll and an amazing glop of butter and introduced them.

“Don’t you have someplace else to be?”

He looked confused. “Uh, no. I’ve ordered dinner. It’ll be here momentarily...” He paused dramatically and Sarah’s flip-flops sounded from the kitchen as she entered the dining room with a tray on her shoulder.

He leaned back to let Sarah place an overflowing plate of ribs right in front of him, with sides of slaw and potato salad. She set down Andi’s meal—iceberg lettuce with chopped vegetables and a few strips each of ham, turkey and grilled chicken—then reached back to get the dressing. When she’d cleared the tray, Sarah tonelessly said, “Enjoy.”

As she watched him pick up the ribs and start eating, Andi scratched her forehead. “You’ve ruined her day, you know? You could pay her a little bit of attention.”

He looked up quickly. His mouth had a small smear of barbecue sauce on it. Andi wanted barbecue sauce in that minute more than she’d ever wanted it. She glanced back down at her uninspiring plate of rabbit food.

“Who? Sarah? I’m a pretty good tipper.”

“No, she wants you to notice her.”

He looked in the direction Sarah had disappeared and shrugged before he returned to the ribs. He muttered, “She’s just a baby,” before taking a big bite.

Andi watched him chew for a minute and picked through her salad for the choicest, meatiest bits. “It must be nice to have all that attention.”

He mumbled something like “from babies” but didn’t look up from his meal.

Andi still wanted that barbecue sauce. “Wanda Blankenship’s no baby.”

He glanced up before he hooted. Andi looked around the nearly empty dining room and tried to shh him, but the hoots turned to guffaws and he dropped his ribs back onto the plate. When he finally managed to get control of himself, he took a long drink of his tea, then leaned across the table. He looked left and right, then he whispered, “You’re jealous!” Andi shook her head furiously as he sat back and clapped his hands twice. “Jealous! I love it! And I’m honestly relieved, Sheriff. I mean, I managed to charm my way into most of this town’s good graces, but you...you’ve been a real challenge.”

Andi tried to pretend she didn’t know him. She would have pretended not to know herself if she could figure out how. It was one thing for him to be right and a whole different thing for him to know he was right.

Andi tried to act calm. She took measured bites of her tasteless yet perfectly suitable salad and sipped her inoffensive iced tea. When Sarah came over with a refill, Andi thanked her politely.

And she waited.

After his celebration ended, he picked up his ribs again and proceeded to demolish them. When he leaned back with a sigh, he said, “All right, Sheriff. Clearly you have the hots for me but you don’t trust me. I can understand that, as I am a newcomer in a town filled with people who sprang up here when the earth was formed.” He shook a finger at her. “What I don’t understand is why you won’t work with me. In my experience, there are two kinds of cops.”

Andi sighed. “Oh, really.”

He nodded. “There’s the grandstander, who considers publicity a perk and a duty. Most places, I find a few of those and I’m set. And then there’s the strong, silent type. Apparently you’re one of those, even though some publicity would help a woman running for reelection. I mean, it was one story, Sheriff. I quoted you directly. How did we go from that to ‘no comment’ on each and every question?” The look on his face said he was mystified and maybe a little...hurt? And that made her mad.

She dropped her fork on her plate with a loud clatter, picked up her tea and tried to convince herself to let it go, just let this moment pass without telling him exactly what she thought. She didn’t need bad press now. But when she put the glass back down with a thump, he’d sat back in his chair and for the first time, he looked serious.

So she took a deep breath. “Yeah, okay. Let’s think back to that story, why don’t we? Domestic violence. You asked for a solid definition, statistics and tips on what to look for and what to do.”

“Yeah, and that’s what I put in the article. Word for word. Just the facts. None of that seems like a reason for the cold shoulder.”

Andi shook her head. “Honestly, I can’t even... Don’t you know what that story did?”

He tugged on his earlobe and considered the question. “Well, it reported on the problem of domestic violence in small communities and provided tips on how to help.” He frowned. “I’d expect you to be happy about that, Sheriff. I know it’s an issue you’re really interested in.” He tapped his finger on the table. “I called you because that was something you spoke about in your campaign. What’s the deal? Did you want more credit?”

Andi realized her tense shoulders were creeping up and forced herself to relax. “What I would have liked was for you to report the story, the whole story, not pick and choose and make me look like some...”

Mark glanced around to see if anyone was listening, and Andi realized she’d raised her voice. The kitchen was probably enjoying the show.

“Like some what?” Mark asked. “I reported the facts, and they weren’t just for this town or this county. I had other sources, too.”

Andi rubbed the crease between her brows. “What you did was pick and choose. You didn’t include my comments on how well the people in Tall Pines support their neighbors, how lucky we are to have a close-knit community, how the incidents of abuse have been in a steady decline over the past five years, or how the previous sheriff contributed to that with his own programs. You didn’t even compare our statistics to rates in larger cities. So what you did report made it sound like we were this cute little town with a big problem, and that I was convinced I could ride to the rescue.” She picked up her fork and shuffled lettuce around on her plate. “And maybe I even believed the last part, but I would never have said it.”

When Mark didn’t answer, Andi chanced a look up and saw that he’d braced both elbows on the table and covered his face with his hands. Telling him the rest was easier that way. “People stopped me in the street to tell me just what they thought of my point of view and my taking credit. I got a few threats. And I’ve been...wading through public opinion since, doing my best to protect the people who elected me even though they don’t think much of me.”

His shoulders slumped. If she believed his face, he was surprised, miserable and maybe a little bit sick. “Sheriff, I had no idea. I just...I think I’ve spent so much time going after public figures that...” Mark wiped his mouth with his napkin. “How come no one in this town came after me, the new guy? You’re a native. Seems like they’d be ready to tar and feather me instead of you.”

Andi sighed. “That’s a long story.”

“One you sure don’t want to tell me because of how I’ll report it, right?” He shook his head. “I’m really sorry.”

She almost believed him. Instead of charming or teasing, his face was dead serious, the smile absent. “I just wish more journalists—” she shook her head “—no, more people, would stop to consider that there’s a lot more to truth than just the facts.”

He leaned forward again. “More to truth...” He looked like he wanted to understand but had no idea what she meant.

Andi wished she’d decided to have a microwave dinner. “Truth is...” She sat back. “In Mandarin, you’d say shí huà. The first character means real or solid and the second is more like talk or conversation or words. Mandarin’s an analytical language so you have to study the context, the order of the words, to understand the meaning.”

“So, you speak Mandarin.” He looked as if he didn’t really know what to do with that.

Andi got the same reaction from everyone in town anytime it came up. “I worked for the FBI translating, monitoring persons of interest.”

“In Chinese?”

“And Persian, although I read that better than I speak or hear it.” She felt like such an idiot for bringing it up. Possibly because he was looking at her as though she had two heads. “My point is this...in linguistics, you get a real good understanding of what words can do and what they can’t do. No matter that we’re both speaking English, truth means different things to you than it does to me. Because of context.”

Mark studied the ceiling while he thought about her answer. Finally he nodded. “I’ve got it...but to me, that’s semantics.”

Andi laughed. “Actually, that’s called pragmatics and it’s a case of six of one and a half a dozen of the other.”

Mark wrinkled his brow. “Isn’t that what I just said?”

“It’s close. You think facts are truth.”

He shook his head. “Aren’t they?”

“Not always, no. Facts are black-and-white. Truth...it has more depth.”

“Are you actually speaking Mandarin now? Because I’m afraid the conversation has gotten away from me. And that never happens. I’m a writer. I live on words, you know?”

“It’s like...the facts might be that someone broke into the Country Kitchen. You can put in the time and the amount that was stolen. You might even be able to put in the name of the thief and a confession, but that’s not the truth of the story. Or not all of it anyway. You’d be missing the context. I want to know the why. And I can’t help but look for it. That makes me good at my job. I don’t think most reporters spend a lot of time thinking about that context.” Andi shook her head. “Just let me eat my salad in peace, please.”

He reached across the table to squeeze her hand. “I’m not sure I agree, Sheriff, but I think I understand.” He shook his head. “What I don’t get is why in the world you’re still here. If you win this election, you’ve got two more years of the town’s scrutiny to look forward to. Why not head out for greener, more crime-ridden pastures? FBI experience would probably open most any door you wanted around here, wouldn’t it?”

Andi bit her lip as she tried to figure out a way to shunt him out of the Smokehouse. She’d get up herself but not without her cheesecake. “I can’t leave Tall Pines, not yet. My grandmother’s still...she needs me.” Two years ago, when she’d heard about her grandmother’s fall, Andi was frantic to get home. Her career hadn’t meant much then. Gram wouldn’t move to Atlanta, so Andi had to make her way in Tall Pines. Unfortunately, that meant old history, elections and politics.

Mark wadded up his napkin as Sarah returned to take his empty plate. He smiled up at her, then smiled at Andi. “You’re ready for your dessert now.”

Andi had cleared a bald spot in the middle of the forest of her salad. He was right. She was ready for her reward.

Before Andi could give Sarah her usual order, he said, “She’ll have her usual and I’ll have what she’s having.” Sarah smiled and marched back to the kitchen. Mark and Andi both watched her go, then Mark turned back to look at Andi. “I do appreciate your jealousy but I’m not sure you know what you’re talking about. She seems fine to me.”

Andi pointed to the table with a single twentysomething man near the window. “I think she’s got someone else to attract at this point.”

He heaved a troubled sigh. “Well, all right. At least I’ve still got you.” The corner of his mouth tilted up, but he didn’t say another thing about jealousy. “I’m surprised I hadn’t heard about your FBI experience. The first thing some people did when I moved to town is trot over to tell me all about Tall Pines’s most famous citizen.”

Andi was ready to blast out a defense. Her father had quit his job at the radio station, divorced her mother and left town to pursue his dream. He’d landed in Nashville where he hosted a popular country music talk show, and every Christmas he sent her a card with a check. Until she was eighteen, she’d lived with the morbid curiosity and sometimes pity of the people in town who knew he hardly called and never visited his daughter. She didn’t want to talk about her father, either his successes or his monumental failure.

Sometimes she had to face the bitter truth that she could place a big part of her drive to be the best and build a successful law-enforcement career at her father’s feet. She was determined to prove herself better than him, better than anyone who’d pursue their own selfish goals like that, through serving the public and excelling at all she did. But now was not the time to get into that.

Mark held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “But I don’t want to talk about that. It’s nice to know more about you. Why don’t you ask me whatever burning questions you have? You might start to see me for the fine, upstanding citizen I really am. Then maybe we could work together.”

“That’s one idea.” Sarah placed a towering slice of cheesecake complete with strawberry drizzle on the table. After she’d left both plates, Andi added, “Or you could sit there and be quiet so I can enjoy this piece of cheesecake.”

“I don’t get you, Sheriff. People generally like me. Everybody except you. And Jackie, but him I can live with.” Andi didn’t say anything, because that was exactly the problem: people always liked him. He could get away with murder because he was charming. Her father had been the same way. Everything was fun and games until he lost interest, found a better option and moved along, leaving other people to pick up the pieces. And she’d tried to do the very best job she could, but it wasn’t enough here.

He tapped his cheesecake with a fork and shook his head sadly. “You seriously do not get how this date thing goes, do you? We’re supposed to trade our favorite colors, movies, songs and end with a rousing display of our five-year plans.”

Andi tilted her head to the side. “I’m not sure I’m the one with the problem in understanding, Mr. Taylor. I’m pretty sure you could ask ten people and they’d all say a date should start with an invitation. And I’m also pretty sure we can both agree there was absolutely no invitation involved in this little dinner.”

Andi picked up her fork and took her first bite of the sinful satisfaction that was cheesecake at the Smokehouse.

“Ooh, that was a burn. I think you got me.” He watched Andi take her second bite. “If I had asked, what would you have said?”

“No. Of course the answer would be no.” Andi rolled her eyes. “You just want to talk about Jackie’s case.”

“What if I promised the case wouldn’t even come up?” Mark tilted his head to the side.

“My answer would be a louder no.” Andi sighed. “And I don’t believe you. You’ve already proven the story is king.”

He shrugged. “I’m a really good investigative reporter, and my stories are fair. You can trust me. My mother will vouch for me, of course, as a fine young man. What’s the harm in a dinner or two, just to ease relations between the paper and the sheriff’s office?”

Andi shook her head. “I don’t see the need. I won’t give you the inside scoop.”

Both of his eyebrows shot up. “You don’t see the need? For the sheriff’s office to work with the newspaper? For the woman running for reelection to get some positive press? I don’t believe it. You’re smarter than that.”

He had a point. She did her best to fight back the smile that threatened when he rolled his eyes. He forked the last bit of dessert into his mouth before he wiped it with the cloth napkin.

“Maybe you’re right about that, but is having a better working relationship with the sheriff’s office worth following me, invading my space and playing the getting-to-know-you game?” She had no idea where the question came from. Possibly the sugar rush.

Mark blew out a gusty sigh. “Yes, my job would be easier if you could see me as a good guy, one who only wants to serve Tall Pines...with the facts and your truth, if I can wrap my head around it.” He arched an eyebrow to make sure she caught his drift. Andi nodded. “And there’s something about you, Sheriff. I want to help you even when you make me crazy. As a sincere apology and proof of my good intentions, let me help with Jackie’s case.”

He motioned Sarah over and asked for coffee, then rested his elbows on the table. “Or I can keep following you around, jump out when you least expect it and ruin other desserts.”

The steady pressure of his stare got to her. She wanted to enjoy her last bites, and she couldn’t do that with him watching so closely.

He shrugged. “I used to be just like you, Sheriff. Worked harder, longer hours than anybody else because I believed in what I was doing. I wanted to save the world one news story at a time. All that got me was an angry ex-wife who didn’t believe a man could be working all those nights—so there must be another woman—an ulcer and trouble sleeping at night. But I want to help you and I’m very good at asking the right questions. Let’s work together.”

Then he waited. When Sarah returned with the coffee, Andi huffed a put-upon sigh. “Why are you even here in Tall Pines? It’s not exactly a hotbed of news or social life.”

He licked his lips, then smiled. “Okay, since I don’t think you’re going to play the game correctly because you have a decided ornery streak, I’m going to give you the long, convoluted answer.”

And Andi was hooked. That one sentence told her that he understood a whole lot more than she’d given him credit for. And she wanted to know more.

He stirred cream and sugar into his cup and placed the spoon on the saucer. “I love news but more than anything I love newspapers. I worked for my high school paper, my college paper and I studied journalism. I love the words and how they look on the page. I like how newspaper smells and I even enjoy the black smudges ink leaves behind.” With a sigh, he said, “And since you won’t ask me, I’ll tell you that I love them because my father and I would read the paper together every day. When I was little, he’d hold me in his lap and ask for my considered opinion of the headlines, but when I got older, we would talk about sports or current events at the breakfast table. He’s been gone since I was a senior in college, but newspapers remind me of those times.”

So his entire life hadn’t been charmed. It was clear he still missed his dad a lot. Uncomfortable with her discovery, she pushed away the plate that once held a lovely tower of cheesecake and asked, “But why Tall Pines?”

Andi could tell he was pleased. He believed he was reeling her in—and he just might be—but she wasn’t going to let him know.

“Burnout. It’s as simple and complicated as that. My whole life was about the job. I pursued the biggest stories I could, tried to make a name while fighting a kind of crusade. And I was very good, but everything else fell apart. Here, I love what I do again. The Times might be stories of elementary school spelling bees, histories of old farmsteads and the occasional unsolved mystery, but I like the pace. Advertising is easy to sell. There’s not much of a crime beat, thank God. I can breathe, sleep through the night and fish very badly.” He smiled at Andi. “I have a life here, not just a job.”

“Right. So were you looking for small-town papers for sale and stumbled upon the Times?”

“Nah, I actually knew the editor from way back. When he decided to sell, he sent me an email to see if I’d be interested.”

“Wasn’t it hard to pack up and move hours away to a place where you don’t know anybody? I can’t imagine trying to wedge myself into a town like this where everybody knows everybody from way back and most of them are related somehow.”

He shrugged. “It wasn’t hard. I think Jackie’s accusations helped make me a sympathetic figure, and I’ve made a real effort to fit in. If you’d told me five years ago I’d be entering cooking contests and running recipes under my column, I’d have asked what planet you were from.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them and rolled his head on his shoulders. “You aren’t going to ask about my personal life, either. I can tell. I was divorced about six months before I moved to town. She’s remarried to a corporate lawyer who makes very good money and spends every night with her. And I’m here, living the good life.”

Andi snorted and he laughed. She wondered if this might be what a really good date was like. She’d had so few of those that she wasn’t sure.

“Sounds like you might be too unbusy to help.” Andi shrugged. “And I can handle Jackie’s case on my own. Besides, how would it look if I needed your help to solve this case? Ray Evans would have a field day.”

Mark glanced around the shadowy restaurant, and Andi noticed the crowd had gotten a little larger. When she saw Sarah and Amanda with their heads together, whispering in the corner, she realized how this might look to the people in the restaurant.

“There’s an easy enough way to handle that. We’ll pretend. We’ll go out to dinner again and just like that, we’re dating. No one would suspect that I was your secret weapon then.” He reached across the table and picked up her hand. “How am I doing?”

Andi wasn’t sure if she gasped or not. His hand was hot and the tingling in her fingers was back and spreading.

“What, like a working date or something?” She jerked back her hand and straightened in her seat.

Sarah chose that minute to deliver the check. Mark snatched it out of Andi’s numb fingers, took a couple of crisp bills from his wallet and handed it back to Sarah with a smile. “Keep the change.”

She flushed before she flip-flopped back to the kitchen.

When he looked back at her, Andi wiped one sweaty palm over her brow and tried to take calm, even breaths.

For once in his life he did the right thing. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t smirk. He didn’t tap or jiggle or jostle or in any way appear impatient. When Andi managed to look at him, he just looked certain. And that scared her more than anything else.

“I don’t get you. I’ve made your job really difficult. On purpose. And now, all of a sudden, you want to help. Why?”

He shrugged. “Honestly, this is the first chance I’ve had to smooth things over. This is the first time you’ve done anything other than silently murder me with your eyes. Let me help. Think of how much better the story will be if I have all the facts...truth.” He tilted his head.

Andi looked down at her missing watch and pretended to know what time it was. She needed out and she needed him to have his head examined before the next time they met. Business, working together, that was one thing. A date, even a pretend one where they were really working, was something else entirely.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea, not even a working date. So...I need to go check on Gram.” She patted the table with both hands. “This was... Thanks for buying dinner, Mr. Taylor.” And she wanted to smack her head against the table. Mr. Taylor? That was just stupid at this point.

“Mr. Taylor?” He didn’t add on the “that’s just stupid” comment, but she could read it on his face.

Andi’s shoulders slumped and she couldn’t resist hiding her face in her hands. She finally mumbled, “Yeah, you’re right. I think we’re past that.” She was nothing if not brave. She lowered her hands and said, “Thank you, Mark, for buying my dinner.”

There were the beginnings of a smile on his face as he nodded. “You are very welcome, Sheriff. Please just think about it. Maybe when I ask again, you’ll say yes.”

Andi shrugged and put one hand over her stomach. She was afraid if she didn’t reach a calmer state soon her cheesecake was going to make a return appearance. “Change my mind? I guess maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”

His smile grew as he scooted his chair back. Andi did the same and was hyperaware of him following her out of the Smokehouse. She wanted to fidget with her uniform but managed to fight off the impulse. When they made it back onto the sidewalk, they stopped. The heat had subsided to a heavy blanket instead of a frying sizzle.

Suddenly Andi couldn’t figure out what to do with her hands. She finally settled for crossing her arms over her chest.

Mark pushed his into the front pockets of his jeans. Maybe his hands didn’t know how to act right, either.

He rocked back on his heels. “Sheriff, can you forgive me for that first story? I guess I didn’t understand how things work here. After talking with you...well, maybe I’m starting to see your point.”

With a sharp nod, Andi glanced up and down the street. Jackie was looking out the window of the diner. If she didn’t get out of there pretty soon, he’d be headed her direction to demand some progress. “You made a mistake. I understand that. I’ve made a few. But...that doesn’t make it easy to forget, M-Mark.”

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