Small-Town Secrets. Linda Wisdom Randall
He’d drunk gallons of coffee and eaten pounds of homemade coffee cake while discovering bits and pieces about various residents that he kept filed away. Pieces of information that didn’t always make sense.
Sure, it was possible for someone suffering from inoperable cancer to succumb to a heart attack. No reason why someone diagnosed with impending blindness as a complication due to diabetes wouldn’t die from slipping in the shower. Some of the deaths Cole could have believed were suicide, but there was just something about them that didn’t add up in his mind.
Maybe he was looking for a story that wasn’t there. Seeing things that didn’t exist.
Except for Uncle Charlie’s notes.
Uncle Charlie who hadn’t had one fanciful bone in his body.
Cole leaned back in the easy chair that faced his big-screen television set. He had CNN on now, but the sound was muted. An open pizza box had two pieces of mushroom pizza remaining. A can of beer sat on the table by his elbow. For now, he was content to think about Bree.
Ordinarily, he kept his distance from a woman with children. Trying so hard to get her to go out with him wasn’t his usual modus operandi.
He didn’t consider himself good relationship material. A failed marriage had taught him all he needed to know—he wasn’t good in the long run. After his ex-wife told him his work came before anything else and she was tired of not meaning anything to him, he’d decided she was right.
Except things weren’t the same after she left. He felt as if he’d failed. Going after any and all stories, no matter how dangerous, was his way of coping.
Amazing how a bomb almost turning him into confetti had got him to make a few changes in his lifestyle. He took life a little easier now. But one rule was still hard and fast with him: any woman he dated knew from the get-go he wasn’t the commitment type.
Marriage and family weren’t meant for him. But that didn’t stop him from enjoying an evening, and maybe even all night, with a woman.
It wasn’t the thrill of the hunt Cole thought about when it came to Bree. He’d outgrown that behavior years ago. No, what he felt was a tug toward the lady. All he wanted was the chance to follow through on his interest.
But first he had to convince her he wasn’t such a bad guy.
“Did you look through the files I sent you?”
Cole’s husky drawl filtering through the telephone line was surprisingly devastating to a woman who believed she was immune to the man.
Bree thought of the manila envelope delivered to her home. There was no note inside, but there didn’t need to be. She knew the identity of the person who’d sent her copies of accident reports and a few doctors’ statements. Clipped to the first page of each report was a lined sheet of paper filled with neatly printed comments.
No way he could have fallen in the shower. He preferred baths.
Medical report more fiction than fact.
Any reason why only Holloway signed off on most of these accidents?
Heatstroke theory doesn’t wash.
“Tell me something, Becker. Why me?” she asked now.
“You look like a lady who likes a challenge.”
Bree picked up her pen and began doodling on the pad in front of her. Anyone looking at her would think she was taking notes.
“Did anyone ever tell you you’re as irritating as poison ivy?” she asked.
His chuckle was like a warm breeze in her ear. “That’s a new one. Trust me, I’ve been called worse. Come on, Bree, help me out here.”
“Again, why me?”
“Because you’re new to the area. You don’t have any preconceived ideas about any of these people or their deaths. Because you worked homicide and were good at it. And because you don’t believe anyone should die unnecessarily.” The humor had leached out of his voice as he spoke quietly, but with a note of determination.
“You have no proof,” Bree stated.
“There’s proof out there. And I plan to be around when it shows up.” He was silent for a moment. “I feel that proof is there on your end.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Think about it. Whenever there’s a cover-up it usually goes back to the cops.”
She straightened up so quickly, Jinx raised his head to watch her.
“Don’t go there, Becker,” she warned.
He couldn’t miss the ice in her voice. “All right, big mistake. Let me apologize by taking you out to dinner.”
Bree laughed in spite of herself. The man never quits. “I would think you’d have dates running out of your ears. If I were you, I’d think twice about trying for a woman who has three children, two of them in high school.”
“Ordinarily, I’d be running the other way,” he said candidly. “I guess there’s just something special about you.”
“No, there isn’t.” She matched his candor with some of her own. “You’re not used to being turned down. Good-looking guy like you.”
“You’re weakening, Detective. You just admitted you think I’m good-looking.”
“Tell him I’ll call him back,” Roy could be heard saying to someone.
Bree looked up just as he stopped at her desk.
“Please, ma’am, don’t apologize for calling,” she said in her calm official voice, as if she’d been occupied with a business call. “If you think your handyman has been seen on America’s Most Wanted, you should call us right away. We’ll certainly check on it. Thank you for calling.”
“Coward!” She heard Cole’s accusation as she laid the receiver in the cradle.
Roy dropped a file folder on her desk.
“It’s one of those cases that should be simple, but isn’t,” he told her. “A uniform was out there early this morning to take the initial report, but the complainant is still up in arms. She wants action. This is a situation that’s been escalating for some time now. I’m hoping that sending you out there will diffuse it. I’ll warn you, Mattie Williams isn’t too easy to deal with and, personally, these calls are more crank than legit. But I’m not going to have anyone say we didn’t follow up on a call just because we don’t take it seriously. The day could come when it would be serious.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll get right over there.” She picked up the file and opened it. She realized the man was still standing by her desk. She looked up. “Is there anything else, Sheriff?”
“The Pattersons said you gave a good talk,” he said.
“I’m glad they were pleased,” she replied, warmed to know her first public appearance was well received.
“It was a good beginning for you. You might want to attend the city council meetings, too,” he suggested. “I like my people getting involved in the community.”
“I’ll do that.”
He nodded and moved away. The moment his office door closed after him, Bree noticed everyone else’s eyes shift back to their desks.
She picked the case folder up again and began reading. Once finished, she kept it in her hand and stood up. The moment she rose to her feet, Jinx got to his. The dog immediately moved to her left side.
“I think I’d rather have a human for a partner than a dog,” Frank Roberts said. “At least then I’d know my backup was carrying a weapon.”
“Oh really?” Bree’s expression was bland as she kept her gaze centered on him. There was no inflection in her