Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
The next morning, Beau sat at his desk in the Jessup Peak sheriff’s office, the faint hum of the ancient computer’s hard drive drowning out the spit and sizzle of the equally ancient coffee pot. A half-empty cup of coffee sat beside a notepad cluttered with his shorthand observations, along with the beginnings of a profile he’d been piecing together on Teddy Van Meter.
Despite the quiet, the tension in his shoulders hadn’t eased since sunrise. He couldn’t seem to get Abbie Carter out of his head, especially after their meeting yesterday. Something had changed between the two of them and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. He would like nothing better than to pursue a romantic entanglement with Abbie, but he wasn’t ready for a long-term commitment, and he had found over the years, commitment and a white picket fence were most women’s end game.
The knock on Beau’s office door came so hard and sharp that it startled him. He barely had time to mutter a gruff "come in" before the door swung open with a force that made it slam against the wall. And there she was—Abbie Carter, eyes blazing and jaw set, her determined energy filling the small room like a storm rolling in.
“Good morning to you too,” Beau drawled, leaning back in his chair. He didn’t bother to hide his smirk. He’d been expecting her, but not this early and not with quite so much fire, especially after their softer good-bye yesterday. “What can I do for you?”
“You can start,” she snapped, her voice clipped and her hands on her hips, “by explaining why I haven’t heard a single word from you about the investigation.”
Beau sighed, dragging a hand over his face. He should’ve known this was coming. He set his pen down on the cluttered desk and gestured to the chair across from him. “Why don’t you take a seat?”
“I don’t want to sit,” Abbie shot back. “I want answers.”
Beau arched an eyebrow, amused despite himself. There was something about the way she stood there, all righteous indignation and fiery determination, that made it impossible for him not to poke the bear. “Answers to what exactly? Because unless you’ve forgotten, it’s been less than twenty-four hours since we last spoke. Not much has changed since then.”
“That’s not the point,” she retorted, stepping closer and planting both palms flat on his desk. Her emerald-green eyes bore into his, sharp and unrelenting. “The point is that I’m limited on time, and yesterday, you said between the two of us, we’d figure this whole thing out. Well, don’t you think that’s kind of hard to do when there’s no communication between us?”
Beau leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, and gave her his most disarming grin. “Sweetheart, I’m willing to communicate with you all you want, but…there’s nothing to add since our conversation yesterday afternoon.”
“Don’t call me sweetheart ,” Abbie snapped, her voice laced with irritation. “And don’t patronize me.”
He ignored her ire and her admonition. “I’m quite experienced with the police side of the law and there’s a process to these things, and right now, I’m building a profile.” He almost added sweetheart just to goad her but decided to take another tactic.
“A profile?” Abbie repeated, her brows furrowing. “On whom?”
Beau leaned back again, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Teddy Van Meter.”
Abbie blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Teddy? You really think he has something to do with all of this?”
“Well,” Beau drawled, “considering the man showed up out of the blue offering way more than the ranch is worth, it’s enough to raise a few flags. That kind of generosity doesn’t come without strings attached. And since you used to date him…” He let the sentence trail off, his eyes locking onto hers with an unspoken challenge.
Abbie straightened, crossing her arms over her chest. “So that’s what this is about. You think I can give you some kind of insider information on Teddy?”
“Can you?” Beau asked, his tone casual but his gaze sharp.
Abbie opened her mouth to reply, but before she could say anything, the door to the office burst open again. This time, it wasn’t Abbie making a dramatic entrance.
“Sheriff McMasters, I need some help with—” a short and stocky woman, breathless as she stepped inside stopped short the minute she laid eyes on him. Her thick blonde braid hung down the back of her worn bib overalls, one snap undone hanging to one side, and a button-up, blue-plaid cotton shirt with rolled-up sleeves.
Beau stood, his full height dwarfing the petite woman as he nodded toward her. “The sheriff’s not here. I’m Detective Elliott. Can I help you with something?”
The woman’s eyes widened slightly as she took him in, her gaze lingering just a little too long on his broad shoulders and rugged jawline. “Oh,” she breathed, a flirtatious smile spreading across her face. “I’m sure hopin’ so.”
Beau tilted his head, his lips curving into a polite but distant smile. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about being the object of her obvious ogling, especially not with Abbie standing a few feet away, looking like she wanted to crawl out of her skin.
Abbie rolled her eyes so hard, he half-expected them to tumble out of her head and land on his desk. She took a step back, crossing her arms in that way she always did when she was trying to keep herself from blowing a gasket. Beau knew the signs by now.
The blonde, oblivious or indifferent to the growing storm brewing beside her, practically shoved Abbie aside in her attempt to get closer to him. Beau resisted the urge to sigh, already sensing how this was going to go.
“Are you kidding me?” Abbie muttered, her voice low but sharp enough to cut glass.
“It’s my goat,” the blonde replied, batting her mascara-laden lashes at Beau like he was the only man on the planet. “I was just running into the store for a minute, and when I got back to my truck, Ernie had climbed out the window. He’s nowhere to be seen.”
“A goat?” Beau repeated, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes, my sweet little Ernie,” the woman said, her voice taking on a sugary lilt. “He’s such a rascal, but I just can’t stay mad at him. I thought maybe you could help me find him.” She tilted her head, letting her long, highlighted hair fall over one shoulder.
Abbie’s snort of disbelief cut through the woman’s syrupy tone. “You lost a goat? How does someone even manage to lose a goat?”
The blonde’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before she recovered, straightening her posture and fixing Abbie with a saccharine smile. “Well, not everyone has the luxury of being perfect, now, do they?”
Beau bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, but the glint in Abbie’s eyes told him she wasn’t going to let that slide. He decided it was best to step in before things escalated further.
“All right,” Beau said, towering over both women. “Let’s focus on finding Ernie. Any idea where he might’ve gone?”
The blonde lit up like a Christmas tree, clasping her hands together. “Oh, thank you, Detective. I knew you’d know what to do.”
Abbie, meanwhile, looked like she was about to combust. She threw her hands up in exasperation. “Seriously? A goat? I came here to talk about an actual investigation, and you’re getting roped into a wild goat chase?”
Beau shot her a look, one brow arching. “It’s a public safety concern, Miss Carter. Can’t have a goat running loose in town, now, can we?”
Abbie opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again, her lips pressing into a thin line. Her green eyes sparked with irritation, and Beau could tell she was biting her tongue to keep from saying something she might regret.
The blonde, apparently sensing an opportunity, stepped even closer to Beau, her perfume wafting toward him in an overpowering wave. “You’re so right,” she cooed. “Ernie could get hurt, or worse. I’d just be devastated.”
Beau nodded, stepping back slightly to put some distance between them. “Why don’t you start by showing me where you last saw him?”
The blonde beamed. “Of course! My truck’s just outside.”
She turned and sashayed toward the door, her hips swaying with exaggerated purpose. Beau glanced at Abbie, who was glaring after the woman like she wanted to set her on fire with her mind.
“I’ll be right back,” Beau said to Abbie, his tone light but tinged with amusement.
“Take your time,” Abbie replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sure the goat is priority number one.”
Beau smirked, tipping an imaginary hat at her before following the blonde out the door. He couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath as he heard Abbie mutter something about ridiculous men and their inability to focus.
Ten minutes later, Beau returned, brushing a few stray strands of hay off his shirt. Ernie had been found a few blocks away, munching contentedly on someone’s garden. The blonde had been overjoyed, smothering the goat in kisses before driving off with a lingering wave in Beau’s direction.
He stepped back into the office, shutting the door behind him and glancing at Abbie, who was now perched on the edge of his desk, arms crossed and one foot tapping against the floor.
“Find your damsel’s goat?” she asked, her tone flat.
“Found him,” Beau replied, leaning against the doorframe. “No thanks to you, by the way.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Abbie said, her voice saccharine and sarcastic all at once. “I didn’t realize you needed my help playing farmhand.”
Beau grinned, pushing off the doorframe and stepping closer. “You jealous, Carter?”
Abbie’s eyes widened, and for a split second, she looked genuinely flustered. Then she recovered, narrowing her eyes at him. “Of what? A goat?”
Beau chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning against the edge of his desk. “Not the goat.”
Abbie rolled her eyes again, but this time there was a faint hint of color in her cheeks. She pushed off the desk and took a step toward him, her chin tilted up in defiance.
“You’re ridiculous,” she said, her voice quieter now but no less firm.
“And you’re avoiding the question.”