Chapter 3
Jules swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry.
How many times had she or her sister given statements to the police that amounted to nothing?
Unreliable witness accounts, circumstantial evidence, contradictory alibis.
The cops always seemed to have a reason to dismiss what she and Abby told them, and her sister’s stalker would go free… again.
Now this North Dakota sheriff wanted her statement, her help in solving a crime? The irony galled her.
But if he was forcing her to keep the gift shop closed while he conducted his investigation, she might as well tell him what he wanted to know. The sooner the shop reopened, the sooner she could start earning her meager salary again.
Yippee, she thought, heaving a desultory sigh.
She made a mental note to call Bonnie and tell her not to come in today.
The teen would probably be glad for the day off to…
well, do whatever teenagers did these days.
She’d never had the luxury of being a carefree teenager, thanks to her parents.
She’d had to work and look after Abby and—
“Whenever you’re ready,” the sheriff said, drawing her out of her thoughts. “What happened last night?”
Jules huffed out a breath and mentally reconstructed the events of the previous evening.
“So…the dead guy was the first one to come into the shop.” She paused, giving an involuntary shudder as an image of the man’s ashen skin and cloudy eyes flashed in her mind.
She drummed her fingers on the table restlessly as she tried to erase the gruesome memory and concentrate on reconstructing the events from the night before.
Focusing was hard enough given the sheriff’s distracting appearance and confusing manner.
Every time she met his blue eyes, her thoughts scattered, and his habit of brushing off her sarcasm with lopsided grins that made his chiseled good looks even more strikingly handsome rattled her.
The fact that he could so easily shake her composure was reason enough to keep her guard up, but considering he was in law enforcement, she knew she needed to double down on her caution around him.
So give your statement and get rid of him.
She cleared her throat and continued, “He came in at about five fifty-five. I remember the time because the store closes at six on weekdays, and I was just about to lock the door for the evening.”
Sheriff Colton bobbed his head once in acknowledgment. “Okay. What did he do while in the shop?”
“Wandered aimlessly for the most part. He didn’t act interested in the merchandise, just stayed by the wall of T-shirts, which is the wall farthest from the register.
He acted jittery, kept his back to me. I tried to keep an eye on him, thinking he might be considering shoplifting or, I don’t know, pulling a gun and robbing the shop. ”
“You said there was another man. When did he arrive?”
She scowled at the sheriff. “I’m getting there. You said tell you everything, so…”
He raised a hand. “Apologies. Please continue.”
“I called to him once, saying the shop was closing, but he didn’t react, didn’t answer. Just kept hovering by the back wall and glancing at the front door every minute or so.”
“As if he was waiting for someone? Expecting someone?”
Jules nodded. “Exactly. The second guy came in around ten after six. I can’t close the store while customers are still inside, so I was kinda peeved about the late arrival.
” She traced the fake marble pattern in the Formica tabletop.
“But once the second guy showed up, he only stayed thirty seconds. They talked for a few seconds and left the store about a minute apart.” She snorted.
“As if they were trying to play it like they weren’t together, leaving separately.
” She shook her head. “I know a drug deal when I see one.”
“What made you think it was a drug deal? Could you hear what they said?” the sheriff asked, his blue eyes bright as he narrowed his incisive gaze on her. “What did the second guy look like?”
She gave a short wry laugh. “Impatient much, Sheriff? I’m getting there…in an orderly manner.”
His laugh bubbled up like spring water, clear and refreshing. His gaze mirrored the same mirth as he grinned at her. “More apologies. My family is always telling me I get overeager. Please continue…in an orderly manner.”
His grin stirred something light and warm inside her, and she felt as if her chair were tipping. She splayed her hands on the tabletop to steady herself and pulled out her practiced defenses. Sharpening her tone, she asked, “Are you mocking me?”
He blinked as if startled that someone could think his charming demeanor and ready smile were fake. “No. Certainly not. I appreciate thoroughness and order. Please, finish.” His expression sobered as he pinned her with a look that burrowed to her core. “Why did you think they were dealing drugs?”
She lowered her eyes to the table again, unable to focus while she looked into that sky-blue stare. She didn’t want to tell him how many drug deals she’d seen her father conduct, so she just said, “I recognized the signs. I’m not naive, Sheriff.”
“Didn’t mean to imply you were. I meant what specifically told you it was a drug deal?”
She sighed. “The first guy acted jumpy. Not nervous so much as edgy, needing a hit.” She knew the difference, having seen it in her father so often growing up, but the sheriff didn’t need to know that private detail of her life.
“The second dude was wearing a UNLV hoodie and kept his hood up, shielding his face. He clearly didn’t want me or any cameras to identify him. ”
“But you said there are no cameras here,” he said.
“Doesn’t mean he knew that. Do you want me to tell my impressions or not?”
He waved a hand. “Please continue.”
She knitted her brow as she dredged up memories of the night before.
“The first guy was kinda scrawny, but the second guy was more average height and seemed to have a large build. But that could have been because of the big hoodie. Again, I couldn’t see his face, and, honestly, I couldn’t tell you for sure what race he was.
His hands were in his hoodie pocket. Only reason I know it was a man is because I heard him talk. His voice was low and deep.”
She sensed that the sheriff wanted to ask another question, and, flicking a glance at him, she held up a hand to stay him.
“The first guy, the dead guy—” she jerked her head in the general direction of the Geese in Flight sculpture, where the body had been found “—he asked UNLV guy if someone named Gina or Tina or some such was with him.”
Sheriff Colton perked up and began scribbling in his notepad. “What did UNLV answer?”
“Not sure, he was mumbling. But his tone said he didn’t like the question.
Dead guy said, ‘I know’…then something I didn’t catch.
But UNLV’s reply was clipped. Just a couple grunted words.
I did catch five and blue, or maybe two—something with an oo sound—before he turned and hurried out, his back to me.
Dead Guy acted all the more restless and jittery after UNLV left.
Like he was impatient to leave. So I kindly reminded him I was trying to close, and that seemed to be all the encouragement he needed to hustle out of the store.
” She fell silent, exhaling the coil of tension inside her.
If she never had to talk to cops again, it would suit her just fine.
When Sheriff Colton said nothing, she risked a glance at his penetrating blue gaze. He was studying her closely, and when their eyes met, he curled his cheek up with a grin. Oh, Lord. He had a dimple.
She scowled, internally stomping on the giddy trill that buzzed through her veins. “What?”
“Just making sure you’re finished before I speak” His smile brightened, and she matched his mirth with a darker glower.
“You are mocking me! Didn’t your mother teach you manners?” She folded her arms over her chest, determined not to be mollified by the rich timbre of his chuckle.
“She did. My many siblings, however, taught me to tease.” He fingered the brim of his hat, his expression unrepentant.
After another beat, he reached in the breast pocket of his uniform shirt and extracted a business card.
When he handed it to her, the paper was warm from having been tucked against his body heat, and a shimmy of sensation rolled through her, wakening nerve endings and stirring up hormones she’d kept under lock and key for the last few years.
Displeased with her reaction to the sheriff, she gritted her back teeth, trying to rein in the feral attraction to him. But like wild horses, the feelings flaring in her bucked and fought constraint.
When he pushed back from the table and rose from his chair, she couldn’t help but notice how tall and fit he was.
His broad shoulders and muscled arms stretched the fabric of his uniform shirt in all the best ways.
He rested his hand loosely on the service weapon at his hip and started for the door.
“That’s all for now, but please stay available in case we have more questions for you.
Since the victim, by your account, was in the shop prior to his death, I’m sure the forensics team will want to have a poke around.
We’ll have to keep the shop closed until they finish.
” He jammed his campaign hat back on his head. “To be sure no evidence is disturbed.”
She winced. He noticed.
“What?” he asked, his gaze narrowing.
“I’ve cleaned the store since last night when those men were in here.”
“Cleaned?”
She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Yes. Cleaned. The shop doesn’t clean itself, you know. And after a day of tourists plowing through T-shirts and tracking in mud, and grubby children touching everything that sparkles or makes noise, it’s plenty messy.”
“Define ‘cleaned.’” He took a step back into the break room.
“Dusting stock, cleaning fingerprints from the glass door of the drink cooler, vacuuming, refolding T-shirts for the hundredth time…”
He held up a hand to stop her. “Okay. Well, don’t clean anything else until my men have a chance to go through here. Save the contents of the vacuum bag.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Really.” He flashed another annoyingly handsome smile. “No one ever said forensic work was glamorous. Sometimes it means tediously picking through the contents of a vacuum for hairs or skin cells.”
She grunted. “Sounds like weekends I’ve spent in the lab looking for evidence of one molecule.”
He cocked his head. “Pardon?”
She waved off the comment. “Nothing. Forget it.” Then, recentering her composure, she said, “I will save the vacuum contents, dust rag and not clean another thing until cleared to do so.”
He ducked his chin once. “Thank you. If you think of anything else that could be helpful to the investigation, please call me.”
He waved a finger toward the business card she still held.
Was it her imagination or was there something more in his voice when he asked her to call? A plea? A personal request? That damnable tremor raced through her again.
She squeezed her hands into fists, which crumpled the business card, then she firmed her mouth. “I will.”
He disappeared into the short hall, and when she heard the squeak of the back-door hinges, she released the breath she’d been holding. Too soon.
He stepped back into the break room…grinning, of course. “You have any more of that tuna? Your little wild friend is back.”