Chapter 2 #2
Settling his hands on his hips, he watched her peek at the wound. “You’ll want to clean that. Disinfect it.”
“So now you’re a doctor and the sheriff? Lucky me.” She pulled a face and strode to the back door of the building.
He followed, chuckling. “You’re only lucky because I don’t charge for my medical advice. That’s free of charge. A little something I learned from my father, who is a doctor.”
“Hmm,” she grunted, clearly unimpressed. She marched into a small, sparse break room and searched the cabinets until she found a plastic box with a red cross on top. After opening the first-aid kit, she removed the items one at a time, checking labels.
Enough of her stubbornness. He closed the distance between them and gripped her forearm lightly. “You should wash it first. Come with me.”
To his surprise, she complied without a fuss as he led her to the sink and helped her wash the scratches with soap and water, then blotted the area dry with paper towels.
She sat in a rickety chair by the small Formica table and allowed him to administer the disinfectant, then tape a large bandage over the wound before stepping back to admire his handiwork.
His father, a surgeon at the local hospital, couldn’t have done any better, Cal decided.
Jules, too, studied the bandage, but instead of thanking him, she said, “At least he ate something. The poor thing was starving.”
He tipped his head. “Pardon?”
She gave him a look that said her meaning should be obvious. “The kitten. He ran from me earlier this morning. I put the tuna out hoping he’d come back and eat. Didn’t you see how thin he was?”
“Can’t say I noticed that while you were dodging claws.
” After removing his hat, he set it on the table and sat in the chair across from her.
Studying the way her chestnut hair framed her delicate heart-shaped face, he clicked open his pen again.
As he pulled out his notepad, he asked, “So what time was it when you arrived this morning?”
The roll of her eyes told him she was unhappy with the transition to his investigative duties. She sighed, then said, “Early. About six thirty.”
“Did you notice anything unusual when you arrived?”
“Besides a starving stray kitten at the back door, you mean?” she asked, her tone full of attitude.
“Yes. Besides the kitten. Although I’ll want to interview Mr. Scratchy next.
No telling what he saw before you arrived.
” He couldn’t stop the grin that tugged his cheek.
Despite her sarcasm toward him, he saw something softer below the surface.
Her concern for the cat, for example. She had a soft heart, despite the hard shell she presented to him.
And ducking her verbal darts reminded him of the give-and-take that was common between him and his five siblings. He could joust and tease with the best.
Did her cheek just dimple with the beginning of a smile? He was almost certain he’d seen a hint of amusement before she’d turned her face away and assumed her resistant arms-folded position again. “No. I didn’t see anything suspicious. I came in the store and started setting up as usual.”
“Okay.” He made a note of her reply. “When did you become aware of the body outside?”
“When that tourist family came back into the store screaming for me to call the police.”
“What time was that?”
She gave him an exasperated look. “Didn’t check the clock. Sorry. Maybe you could consult the 911 recording for a time stamp. Huh?”
He jerked a serious nod. “A very good suggestion. Thank you.”
She snorted and looked away again.
“Did you go out to see the body at that point?”
Jules sighed. “I did. I called 911 after I went out to see the body for myself. Mainly I wanted to verify the man was dead before I raised the alarm. I’ve had drunks sleep off a bender in the parking lot before.”
“And how did you verify that the man was dead?” he asked, taking down her comment.
She shot him another expression that said his question was stupid.
Despite the grim tenor of the glare, he was intrigued with the glint of intelligence and spark of mettle in the emerald depths of her eyes.
His body stirred as if answering a battle cry, a challenge to match wits or win her over.
A whisper in his ear exhorted him to seduce her.
“I knew by looking at him. Did you see his pale skin? His glazed eyes and fixed stare?” Her description of the dead body grounded him quickly. He was here to do a job, not find a date.
His grip tightened on his pen. “Did you touch him?”
Her face reflected revulsion. “Lord, no! Why would I want to do that? Gross!”
“Just clarifying for the record. We have to establish a history regarding the evidence. Do you know the man? Can you tell me who he is?”
“Nope.”
Cal tapped his pen against the pad, disappointed by that dead end. And what did he think? He’d waltz out here, ask a few questions and have all the answers presented on a silver platter? That he’d have the case tied up with a ribbon by lunchtime?
He flipped the page on his notepad and changed angles. “How long have you worked at the gift shop, Ms. Bailey?”
“Only a couple of months. And I’d like to keep my job. Do you mind if we move this interrogation out to the sales floor?”
“Actually, I think it would be wise to close the shop for at least a while. The forensic team will need the whole area around the body cordoned off until they can gather all traces of evidence. For example, how did the dead body get there? Are there tire tracks or footprints?”
“You should ask the guy that was with him,” she said.
Callum looked up at her and frowned, replaying what she’d said mentally. “Come again?”
“The guy that was with him in the shop last night. He’d be a good place to start,” she said, her facial expression once again suggesting “well, duh…”
Cal straightened, his heart ticking faster. “Hang on. You saw the dead guy alive last night? With another man?”
She nodded. “They came in the shop, right before closing.”
He grunted and shook his head. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”
“You didn’t ask!”
“I asked if you recognized him. You said, ‘No.’”
“No, you asked if I knew him. If I could tell you who he was. And I don’t, and I can’t. Not only am I new in town, I don’t make it my business to get to know the local drug crowd.”
Again Cal’s pulse tripped. “Drug crowd?” Now she’d really piqued his interest. “What makes you think the guy is involved with drugs?”
She scoffed. “It was pretty obvious.”
“Obvious how?”
Jules shrugged. “Because I don’t live under a rock. I may not do drugs myself, but I can tell when somebody is stoned and when I witness a drug deal.”
When his eyes widened, she waved a hand and clarified. “Maybe not the actual exchange of money and goods, but…” She shrugged. “Clearly a precursor. They barely spoke before they left, but it was obvious they were going to do business later.”
He pulled out his cell phone and swiped through a few screens until he opened a voice recording app.
“I want you to start from the very beginning, from the minute the first man arrived in the store and tell me everything you recall. Every detail no matter how minor it seems. I’m going to record your statement. All right?”
“Would it matter if I said it wasn’t all right? Don’t you law enforcement types do what you want regardless of whether it’s all right with the public?”
He hesitated, giving her a hard look. “Is there a reason for your dim view of law enforcement? Have I done something to upset you?”
She groaned and shook her head. “Not you.” She flicked a brief glance at him, then added, “Yet.”
“Yet?” He gave a wry chuckle. “I’ll consider myself on notice.”
She stared down at her hands, and he noticed how ragged and raw her cuticles looked, as if she’d spent a lot of time chewing or picking at them, typically a habit that reflected stress or anxiety.
But what had Jules Bailey stressed? What had given her such a bad impression of law enforcement?
He made another mental note to do a background check on the shop manager.
A niggling suspicion told him there was a story here he needed to know.
“Ready?” he asked, his finger hovering over the screen of his phone.
She exhaled heavily and frowned. With an uncaring flap of her hands, she said, “Fine. Record me.”
He pressed Record, and said, “Sheriff Callum Colton in the break room of the Enchanted Highway Mile 0 gift shop. Voluntary interview with Jules Bailey, shop manager. June 30th at eight thirty-five a.m.” He slid the phone closer to her and said, “Start at the beginning. Tell me what you saw and heard last night.”