She wrapped her fingers around her cup and stared down into the warm liquid. “Do you cook?” she asked and looked back up at him.
He sat back in his chair with surprise. Of all the things he’d expected her to say, her words weren’t even close to being on the short list. “Frozen pizza, microwave meals. Cooking has never been a big priority of mine. Why?”
“Then it’s not all gloom and doom. If I’m going to stay here then you can expect a home-cooked meal every night. I’ll either whip up something here or bring home-cooked meals from the diner. It’s the least I can do.”
“I’m not going to argue with you,” he replied with a smile. He was pleased to see some of the color coming back into her cheeks. “But if you cook all day long, why on earth would you want to cook for me when you’re off duty?”
She shrugged. “Cooking is what I do, it’s what I love. It makes me happy to cook for other people.”
“Then we probably need to work in a stop at the grocery store before the day is done. My refrigerator and pantry aren’t stocked with much of anything but canned soups and bologna and cheese.”
She took another sip of her coffee and eyed him over the rim of the cup. “This is going to be weird. I’m sure you aren’t used to sharing your space with anyone, and I’m definitely not used to sharing mine. I’ll try to be as unobtrusive as possible.”
“Nonsense,” he scoffed. “I want you to feel at home here for as long as you need to be here.”
She lowered her cup and flashed him a smile. “I’m sure it will only be a day or two and you’ll get Bittard in custody, and we can both go back to our own lives.”
With the warmth of her smile swirling around in the pit of his stomach, Flint almost hoped he didn’t find Bittard so soon. But it was a wayward, foolish thought. His first priority was keeping Nina safe. His second was to get the murderer back behind bars where he belonged, and so far Bittard had remained effective at remaining on the loose.
She got up to pour herself another cup of coffee and when she returned to the table, they lined up the schedule for the day. He would take her to work and then he’d go to work. He’d pick her up sometime early evening, and they’d stop to get her some clothes and things she’d need and stock up on some groceries before landing back here.
They left his house at just after seven, and he dropped her off at the diner, comforted that she assured him there were at least three people already there ahead of her and two of them were male cooks who came in at six each morning to prep for the day.
They had exchanged cell phone numbers earlier, and he told her he’d call her before picking her up that evening. From the diner he headed straight to the place where Jolene Tate had been murdered.
Officer Patrick Carter’s patrol car was parked next to the corner where bright yellow crime-scene tape marked off the area where Jolene’s body had been found.
Patrick got out of his car to greet Flint. “I’ve been sitting on the scene all night, and Officer McGlowen is at the house that Jolene has rented for the past month as it appears the confrontation between her and Hank started there.”
Flint nodded as he focused on the body form displayed on the ground and the markers that noted potential evidence that had already been collected. Jolene hadn’t had a stellar reputation in town, but nobody deserved to die the way she had. He gave himself a moment to grieve the dead and then looked around once again.
His team had done a good job, as he’d trusted them to do while he’d dealt with Nina the night before. “The coroner report should be on your desk sometime this morning, but the cause of death was definitely strangulation by rope,” Patrick said.
“That’s exactly what Nina described. I’m going to check out the house. I’ll be right back,” he said to Patrick. Flint headed up Cherry Street where two houses from the corner Jolene Tate had lived alone for the past month in a small bungalow.
Officer Dana McGlowen sat on the front porch and stood at his approach, her brown eyes looking like a puppy dog eager to please. She was a relatively new hire but had already shown herself to be highly motivated to do a good job. She had quickly become a valued member of the team.
“Have you been here all night?” Flint asked.
“Yes, sir,” Dana replied. “The crime scene boys were here last night and collected some things but intend to be back here this morning. They didn’t want to do too much before you had a chance to check things out.”
She stepped aside so he could enter the small living room. “It looks like a fight started in the kitchen, and then Jolene managed to run out of the front door in an attempt to get away. The front door was standing wide-open when we arrived last night to check it out.”
Normally, Flint would have been at both scenes immediately, overseeing the evidence gathering and leading his team, but Nina’s arrival at the station had forced him to allow his men to do their jobs without him. He could have assigned another officer to sit on Nina, and he had to admit that his desire not to had been strictly emotionally-driven. He’d simply felt he was the best man to stay with her.
He followed Dana into the kitchen, where it was obvious some sort of brawl had taken place. A kitchen chair lay on its back near the table, and broken glass littered the floor. A half-empty bottle of cheap wine sat in the center of the table, with a single glass. Flint suspected the other glass was what crunched beneath his feet.
“Any sign of forced entry?” he asked.
“None.”
“Then she must have invited him in,” Flint said thoughtfully. “If it was Bittard, then why in the hell would she let him inside? Why wouldn’t she call for help?”
“They were lovers before he got arrested. Women do stupid things when they’re in love,” Dana said as if she’d had personal experience in the matter. “He was probably trying to talk her out of testifying against him, making promises to her that she wanted to believe. Maybe he was trying to talk her into going on the run with him, and as soon as the quarantine was lifted, they could get out of town and be together with a fresh start.”
Flint shook his head. “She saw Hank kill Donny Gilmore in cold blood. What could Hank possibly say that would make her change her mind about testifying? Make her even think about hiding out or going on the run with him?”
“Apparently, from the looks of the way things went down, he didn’t get her to change her mind. Something went wrong. Jolene tried to escape, but he caught up with her and made sure she wouldn’t be a threat to him.”
“This is just what we need with everything else that’s going on in town,” Flint replied in frustration. “Is somebody relieving you here?”
“Mike Harriman should be here within the next hour or so,” she replied.
“When he gets here, go home and get some sleep. I have a feeling we’re all going to be putting in plenty of long hours until we get Bittard under arrest again.”
Flint left the house, his head swirling with everything that needed to be done as far as this particular case. He needed to start at the beginning, reinterview all of Bittard’s low-life friends and check out the old haunts where he used to hang.
He had to be getting help from somebody to stay hidden in a town with no exit, and Flint was determined to arrest anyone who was aiding and abetting him.
Approaching his car, his gaze fell on the place where Jolene Tate had breathed her last breath. For just a moment, his mind cast him back in time and instead of Jolene Tate, he saw an older woman with blond hair sprawled on the ground after having been shot in the head.
Madelaine Vasso had witnessed a gang shooting, and unlike so many, she had been determined to put some of the thugs away. It had been Flint’s job to keep her safe until she got to the courthouse to testify. They had been walking up the courthouse steps and had nearly reached the front door when a single bullet had pierced her head and instantly k
illed her.
His utter failure to protect her and the depth of his grief and guilt had eventually made him leave the Cheyenne Police Department and return home, back here to Dead River.
He shook his head to dislodge the memory of Madelaine and instead was punished by a vision of another woman’s body lying on the ground, her wavy auburn hair like a lush blanket beneath her head.
Nina.
His heart crashed, and he drew a deep breath, knowing he needed to keep it together. He would not have another failure like Madelaine. He refused for Nina to suffer the same fate as Jolene Tate.
Somehow, someway, he had to find Bittard and neutralize him before he got to Nina and before the quarantine was lifted and a killer ran free.
Chapter 3
Nina stood at the front door of the diner, waiting for Flint to pick her up. The talk of the day had been Jolene’s murder and the house fire at Nina’s. While most of the conversations had been sober, at least it had taken the thought of the Dead River virus out of everyone’s head for a short period of time.
Business had been a little better today than in the past couple of weeks as people ambled in to get a bite to eat and soak up the latest gossip. She had been touched by the concern she’d received from customers and her staff. But she knew the uptick in business wouldn’t last. By the time all the gossipmongers got their fill, they’d disappear back into their own isolation.
There was no question in her mind that her business had taken a hit because of the disease that kept the town quarantined. It broke her heart to see people shunning each other as fear of catching the virus guided their decisions and movements.
She hoped the big Thanksgiving Day feast she’d planned in less than three weeks would bring people out of their homes and give them a single day to put all their fears behind them and come together with the community spirit that had been sadly lacking since the quarantine.
Wilma, an older woman who worked as a waitress for Nina, moved to stand next to her. “Nina, are you sure you’re really okay? I know you with your Pollyanna smiles and your need to make everyone else feel comfortable and happy, but you went through quite a trauma last night.”
“I’m fine, really,” Nina assured her. Wilma had no idea what kind of trauma Nina had endured in her life before last night. “I won’t lie, it was a horrible night, but I’m confident that Flint will find Hank Bittard soon, and he won’t be an issue for me or anyone else anymore.”
Wilma’s eyes darkened. “Everyone in town wants that murdering creep back in jail where he belongs. He was a bully as a teenager, and now he’s responsible for two people’s deaths.”
“And don’t forget the officer who is still in the clinic recovering from the injuries he received when Hank escaped,” Nina added.
“At least you have one of the most handsome bodyguards in town.” Wilma winked slyly. “There are plenty of single women in Dead River who think the chief of police would be a fine catch. They wouldn’t mind being in his custody for at least a night or two.”
Nina laughed. “Don’t go starting any rumors about my love life, or lack thereof. I have no attraction to Flint, and in any case, he has more than enough on his plate without adding in any time for romance. I imagine that’s the last thing he’s thinking about right now.”
“Maybe, but you’ve been here in town for a little over three years, and you’ve never even dated anyone,” Wilma said with obvious curiosity.
“In case you haven’t noticed it, I’ve had a fairly demanding business to run. Besides, I’m not looking for anyone in my life. I’m perfectly satisfied alone, always have been and always will be. Now get back to work and stop trying to matchmake for me.”
“It’s just a darn shame. You’re so warm and have such a big heart. You’d make somebody a wonderful wife.” Wilma sighed and disappeared into the kitchen.
Flint had called earlier to tell her that he would pick her up at five o’clock, and at precisely that time his car pulled in front of the diner.
She started out the door, but he halted her by placing his hand up to keep her just inside the doorway. He got out of the car and came into the diner and greeted her with a grim smile.
“I’ll walk you out,” he said. He looked exhausted, as if he’d fought with the day, and the day had definitely won. He took her by the arm and pulled her close against him.
Instantly, she was surrounded by the pleasant scent of him and the solidness of his tall, muscular body intimately close to hers. He kept her close against him until they reached the passenger side of the car and only then did he release her.
She slid into the seat and watched as he walked around the front of the car to the driver’s-side door. He cut a handsome figure in the black uniform that fit him perfectly and with the cowboy hat that added a rakish flair.
She knew he had her safety upmost in her mind, but she couldn’t help the faint wariness that mingled with her physical attraction to him.
She had lied to Wilma. She’d been attracted to Flint Colton since the very first time he’d walked into her diner about a year ago, but there was no question in her mind that he could never be the man for her. Besides, what she hadn’t lied about to Wilma was that she was fine living her life alone.
She’d made the decision a long time ago that marriage wasn’t in her future, and nothing in her thirty-one years of living had come close to changing her mind.
“You look positively exhausted,” she said as he got into the car.
“I think that’s become my permanent state of being over the past couple of weeks,” he replied. The lines of his face that made it interesting, that gave him character, appeared deeper than usual.
“If you don’t feel like stopping by the discount store now, I can make do for another night and have one of the other waitresses take me tomorrow,” she suggested. “I’ve got plenty of uniforms at the diner to put on during the day.”
He shook his head. “That’s not going to happen. I don’t want you going anywhere with anyone else but me. We’ll swing by the store and pick up what you need and then stop to get some groceries. I haven’t forgotten that you said you’d cook for me while you’re under my protection.” He flashed her a quick smile that warmed her from head to toe. “So, how was your day?”
“I was the talk of the town,” she replied. He headed down Main Street toward the store where she could buy whatever she needed to get her through for a week or two. “It’s amazing how fast the grapevine works in small towns. Everyone who came in already knew about Jolene’s murder and the fire at my house and there were definitely more customers in today than has been in the past couple of weeks.”
“I wish somebody had been able to tell you where Bittard is hiding out,” he replied. “We worked today interviewing some of his former friends, but nobody professes to have any idea where he might be holed up.”
“I wish somebody would have given me some information you could use. I’m used to being independent and coming and going as I please.” A sudden knot of emotion pressed tight in her chest. “Now I don’t even have a house to come and go from.”
Despite the fact that she’d had the entire day to process everything that had happened, it still didn’t feel real to her. She felt as if she had stepped into somebody else’s life and was just waiting to get back into her own.
“Did you contact your insurance company today?” he asked.
“I did, but unfortunately, the adjustor is not local and so he can’t get into town to do anything right now. I can start the paperwork, and I need reports from the fire chief, but there’s little else that can be done until the quarantine is lifted.”
“You’re welcome to stay at my place for as long as you need, even after I get Bittard in custody,” he replied.
“Thanks, I appreciate the offer, but as soon as you get Bittard back in jail, I
’ll either rent a small apartment or just use the back room of the diner until I can figure things out and get the house rebuilt.”
His offer confused her. Why would he want to be stuck with her any longer than he had to? She couldn’t help the flutter of emotion that stirred in her. She’d never had a man be so protective of her, especially a man she found so attractive.
“Right now you don’t have to worry about where you’re living. As long as Bittard is loose, you’re stuck with me. We issued a press release this afternoon indicating that we have a witness in protective custody and that the investigation into Jolene’s murder is ongoing. We didn’t name a suspect.”
“At this moment, I can’t be one hundred percent certain that the man I saw was Hank Bittard,” she replied.
“And that’s why we didn’t name him,” he replied.
She was grateful when they reached the store and she could step out of the interior of the car where his woodsy cologne wrapped around her and his nearness was definitely unsettling to her peace of mind.
She didn’t want to like the way he smelled. She didn’t want to like the way his piercing green eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. It was like an unexpected gift on a face that wasn’t accustomed to smiling too often.
She waited as he got out of the car and came around to the passenger door. She couldn’t help but notice that the snap over his gun was undone, allowing him easy access to the weapon.
This single action alone forced her to face the reality she’d tried to downplay in her head for the past twenty-four hours. Before she’d been a little afraid that she might catch a virus that seemed to pick and choose people to attack at random, but now a real terror simmered deep inside her.
This was a specific threat to her, a man who wanted her dead, and the only thing that stood between him and her was the lawman next to her.
* * *
Pink panties.
Hot-pink panties.
Flint closed the door to his master bedroom and began to change from his uniform to more casual clothes to wear for the remainder of the evening.
Her Colton Lawman Page 4