Chapter 2
Heather stood under the hot spray of her small shower, wishing she could linger. But that would only make this feel more like a real date.
And it wasn’t.
She’d finished her morning shift at the Rooster despite the questions and speculation dogging her every step. Ruth had been particularly determined to understand just what was going on between her and Mr. FBI.
It bothered her that it had been so easy to give them a dreamy-sigh kind of answer. She told herself being attracted to Dale served a purpose. It would only be dangerous if she tried to act on it.
The rest of her day, spent mostly alone, had gone smoothly. She’d finished inputting the latest reports on turkey populations for the Department of Natural Resources and then headed out to the animal shelter.
She should have known better than to swap her night shift with an afternoon. Afternoons were busy with visitors, surrenders, and feeding time. The hours had flown by, but she’d come home exhausted and wearing a stink better suited to a skunk than a date.
She lathered and rinsed once more from head to toe and then shut off the tap, knowing the clock was ticking closer to six.
Mr. FBI didn’t strike her as the type to be late for anything.
She checked the clock on the wall and swore, knowing she’d have to rush to be ready. While drying her hair, she mentally tried on and discarded several outfits. It probably only saved her a few seconds, but those counted as her doorbell rang just as her grandmother’s cuckoo clock started celebrating the hour.
Peering through the peep-hole, she was more than a little relieved to see him in the stylish suit she thought looked so good on him. Much of the day, her mind had wandered over where he was really taking her. At least she’d guessed right with the hunter green dress and heels. She took a second for herself, reminding herself to smile, and hoping she was ready for what would happen next.
She opened the door wide. “Right on time. Come on in.”
He paused, his eyes meeting hers, then drifting down her body and back up again. “You look nice.”
“Thanks.” Damned with faint praise, she thought. “You too.” He looked better than nice, but she wasn’t about to up the compliment game. At the moment, she was more concerned with getting him to come inside. So much for typical date behavior. “I’ll just get my coat.” The cool air was giving her a chill. She pulled her coat off the tree by the door and stepped outside, locking the door behind her.
She’d wanted to introduce him to Bentley, her Maine Coon rescue cat, but that would have to wait. Probably for the best, she thought. Dale might have thought meeting her cat meant she’d gotten the wrong idea about the evening being a real date. She knew this was business.
Her end of the porch on the front of the duplex had a small rocker and table and there was physically enough space, but she felt crowded. Turning, he was too close and she wanted to nudge him back so she could get her coat on without bumping into him. “Pardon me,” she said, hoping he would take the hint.
He didn’t. He took the coat and held it open for her.
“Thanks,” she murmured as his hands smoothed the warm wool over her shoulders. She pulled her hair out of the collar as she followed him down the steps.
She stopped, shocked when he opened the passenger door of a brand new Camaro. “Nice.” She used the word with more enthusiasm than he had. “What was this? An evidence seizure?”
“No.”
Well, he had taste—and some manners—she admitted grudgingly as he made sure her dress and coat wouldn’t be caught in the door. Sinking into the seat, she realized it was definitely his car. His masculine scent enveloped her. Watching him walk around the front of the car, she caught the slight hitch in his gait that showed up occasionally.
She didn’t know him well enough to ask about it, and she doubted he’d tell her anything anyway.
Without a word, he settled into the driver’s seat and put the car in gear. The awkward level inched up as he headed out of town until she finally couldn’t take anymore.
“Where are we headed?”
He kept his gaze on the two-lane road stretched out ahead of them. “Columbia. Sushi.”
“But I thought—”
“You thought I was just trying to get you alone so we could discuss the thumb drive you dumped in my lap.”
“Yes.” She wasn’t offended. Couldn’t afford to be. She needed his help to protect her friend as well as the animals from the terrible dogfighting ring touring the state parks.
As far as she could tell, no one else even suspected the truth. It wasn’t on the news, not even after she’d called in an anonymous tip.
“When we get there,” he said, pulling her out of her thoughts, “play along with whatever happens.”
“Meaning?” She watched his long fingers grip the steering wheel before sliding down the curve. To her shock, he reached over and touched her hand.
His palm was warm and firm as it engulfed hers. Her heart stuttered and she ruthlessly reminded it there was nothing remotely personal going on. This was an act.
A little voice in her head pointed out they were alone in the car, but she ignored it. The gesture was a test, a reminder to stay in character.
“You fell right in with my ploy at the Rooster today,” he said, confirming her thoughts.
“And paid the price.”
“What do you mean? Did your brother give you grief?”
“J.C.? No. But every woman in the establishment asked me about it and then told a friend. Soon every woman in town was pestering me, wanting to know our intentions.”
“Our intentions?”
She laughed at his echo. “Consider it the community take on the ‘what are your intentions with my daughter’ question.”
“No way.”
“Way. I’ve gotten used to it. The whole family has been expecting me to crack since my dad got sick and died.”
“But you’re always smiling.”
“Dad said it was my best feature.” It was all the explanation she wanted to give right now. “Maybe a desire for details is more accurate than asking after our intentions,” she said trying to get the conversation back on the pertinent reason they were playing any game at all. “They wanted to know how long you and I had been looking at each other that way.”
“That way?”
“The way you looked at me across the counter turned heads.” And not only her own. “You knew it would.”
He cleared his throat. “Yes, I did. Thanks for reacting the right way. Just do the same sort of thing tonight. Whatever happens.”
What did he have in mind? “Is someone involved with this dogfighting ring planning to be at the restaurant?” That would explain his last-minute timing. “What have you found out?”
“Nothing definitive. Tonight is just the two of us having dinner. We’ll have to wait and see where it leads.” His mouth tipped into a faint smile and he gave her fingers a squeeze before releasing her hand.
The schoolgirl urge to never wash it again irritated her. “That’s a loaded suggestion,” she muttered.
“Well it was a loaded file. Why did you dump it on me?”
“It’s a corruption issue, something the FBI is supposed to handle.” She was a little disappointed he hadn’t seen what she’d seen in the data. But with the recent escalation in dogfight nights, she didn’t think wasting time arguing about what he should know was the right thing to do. She needed to convince him to take action. Now rather than later. “And I suspect someone in the Haleswood Sheriff’s Department is or has been involved.”
“It’s a small department.”
“Meaning what? They’re small town, not stupid.”
“It is a clever set up,” he allowed. “But I thought you knew everyone on that payroll.”
“Just because I’m a deputy’s sister?”
“That and because Sheriff Cochran seems inclined to recruit you to his department.”
“Sheriff Cochran isn’t connected to this.”
“That isn’t—”
“I’m not interested in a career in law enforcement.”
“Could have fooled me.”
She bit back the sharp retort, tired of having the same battle. Being good at something didn’t mean you had to go do that something. “Whatever you think you know from looking at that data, the sheriff isn’t the problem. Let’s get that much clear right now.”
“Relax,” he said, holding up one hand in surrender. “You brought this case to me.”
“I know.” And corruption or not, she was regretting it. She hadn’t expected him to drag her in, to hold her hand while they drove out of Haleswood in a fast car. She hadn’t expected to spend any time at all with him, to like his crisp cologne and perfectly knotted tie. He was supposed to believe her, to fix the problem and restore order to her normal, boring life. “But someone with serious clout is greasing the wheels for these fight locations.”
She was trying to be patient, but this wasn’t going at all like she thought it should. She’d wanted him to act. On the case. He wasn’t supposed to concoct some bizarre hoax that they were dating just so there was a Haleswood-approved reason for them to be seen together.
“Following that logic, you’ve narrowed the suspect pool.”
“I know.”
“And ruling out the sheriff and your brothe—”
“Wait, you automatically ruled them both out?”
“Yes.” His voice was strung tight as a wire across that single syllable and she thought he was clenching his jaw.
“Why?”
“If you’d let me finish…”
She mimed locking her lips when he paused to glare at her from the corner of his eye.
“You were born and raised in Haleswood, but oddly enough, you’re not blind to the faults of your family and neighbors.”
“Gee thanks.”
“It is a compliment. Most people, especially in a small town, assume the best about people they love and the worst about everyone else. You provided solid data that cleared them.”
“You checked alibis?” Oh, Lord, how that could backfire. “I expected you to be discreet.”
“And here I was under the impression you expected me to act,” he said, his diction too precise. “Don’t worry, I didn’t ask questions with any obvious intent. I know how to have a conversation.”
“Well, there’s good news.”
“Here’s hoping you do too.”
Columbia shimmered on the horizon and suddenly her stomach was home to a thousand daredevil butterflies. “I’m a waitress. I can talk about anything.”
She didn’t like the skeptical look he aimed at her as he waited for a traffic light to change on Assembly Street. “How far can you walk in those boots?”
“Miles. All the way home, if necessary.”
He reached for her hand once more. “It won’t be.”
His hazel eyes gave new meaning to smoldering. Her pulse kicked up and she kicked it right back down. This was an act, capital A-C-T.
An act she could play along with if it meant bringing an end to the dogfighting ring. She sent him a smile infused with all the romantic hopes she knew this man wouldn’t fulfill.
Not for her.
She reached for the door when he parked.
“One more thing,” he said.
She waited, wondering if it would be another reminder that she was about to venture into the big, bad city. “Yes?”
He opened a box and pulled out a ring. A diamond ring. Appropriate for an engagement. “Put this on.”
“Pardon me?” She leaned away from the sparkling monstrosity nestled in sapphire velvet.
“We’re celebrating tonight.”
“Celebrating what?”
“You said yes.”
She stared at him, felt the lack of even her most distant smile. “You should have discussed this with me.”
“Why? You’re not seeing anyone.”
His stark analysis didn’t make it any easier to hear. “You are a very rude person.”
“I’m focused.” He sighed. “Try it on. I had to guess at the size.”
She cursed her trembling hand as she yanked the ring out of the box and slid the cool platinum over the ring finger of her left hand. “A perfect fit. I’m so enchanted,” she said with plenty of sarcasm.
“Good. Now here’s what happens when we’re—”
“How?” she interrupted, flexing and stretching her fingers, getting used to the weight on her hand. On the rare occasion when she had thought how a diamond might land on her hand, she never pictured anything like this.
“Heather, listen.”
She was listening as much as she dared. “How did you know my ring size?”
“Educated guess.”
“Educated? You worked as a jeweler before the FBI?”
“No. And that’s not the point. Our reservation is in fifteen minutes.”
“Then you should have brought up this development earlier.”
“We’ll have dinner. Discuss mundane things like family and weddings.”
Family and romance were mundane. Duly noted. “As ourselves or do we have code names?”
“As ourselves.”
That made life easier. “Then what?”
“I’ll watch who comes and goes tonight while we’re at the restaurant. We’ll go back to my place and discuss our options while we wait and see what happens next.”
“Your place. Like an engaged couple.” She didn’t trust herself to smile. “I didn’t pack for a sleepover.” She hated the uncertainty in her voice, hated the vulnerable feeling in her gut even more. “Or did you guess my size on clothes too?”
“No guessing. I raided your closet this morning while you were at work.”
“What?” That was flat-out wrong. He’d taken this whole mess too far. She could just imagine what he thought as he rifled through her wardrobe from jeans to lingerie. “You didn’t disrupt anything.” It freaked her out that she hadn’t noticed anything missing. She had been in a rush to get ready… maybe she’d just overlooked the signs.
“Relax. I checked your sizes and then went shopping this afternoon.”
“Oh my God. That’s absolutely creepy.” She wanted to get out, to run far away from Mr. FBI and his perfectly tailored suit. “What did my cat do?”
“It, ah, stared at me. And purred.”
“He does that.” She shook her head. “Tell me it made you uncomfortable.”
“A little, yeah.”
“Good.” Her lips twitched. “My family will have a fit when I get home.”
“You aren’t going home. Not for the next forty-eight hours at least.”
She glared at him. “Tell me right now how that helps us throw a net around a conspiracy case.”
“As my fiancée, we’re taking a romantic weekend together. No one will expect us to be thinking about business or tracking down the next dog fight.”
Suddenly a piece of this bizarre puzzle snapped into place. She blamed the delay on the shiny thing dragging down her hand. “What did you do?”
He checked his watch. “We have to get to the restaurant.”
She laced her fingers together and rested her hands in her lap. Her mom and dad hadn’t raised a fool. He needed her to be seen. In Columbia. With him.
“You will tell me what you did,” she said in the steel-infused tone she applied to her most challenging customers. It was a shade too polite to be scary, but no one ever argued with it.
“Right after dinner.”
Apparently her tone remained effective. “I have your word?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.” Why she felt that mattered after he’d manipulated so many details was beyond her ability to analyze right now.
Through his deliberate actions he’d made it clear what he thought of her and her modest small-town upbringing. But she was valuable to the case. Probably as bait.
Now all she had to do was get through dinner while making everyone around them believe they were in love. Well, he wasn’t the only one capable of performing on cue.