A Minute on the Lips. Cheryl Harper
Why take trophies?
Knowing Jackie and his suspicious nature, the list of people with keys would be short. Maybe only Jackie, in fact. Maybe his wife, Mona. Possibly Oscar. But the back window was unlocked, so all three of the people she’d interviewed had means and opportunity, as well. Maybe Jackie had accidentally left it that way. Maybe Oscar had opened it for himself or someone else. She didn’t figure Jackie drank his coffee out of a World’s Best Boss mug.
As far as an action plan, she had only two options. First, Andi would have to ask Jackie what his list of enemies looked like. She’d need to take a much larger notebook on that day. And second, she needed to get her hair done. Luckily, it had been almost two months since her last visit, and she had an appointment already scheduled. She could take care of both tomorrow.
* * *
AFTER A BLISSFUL afternoon spent at her desk pushing paper around and detoxing from a caffeine high, Andi decided to relax at the Smokehouse—Tall Pines’s answer to finer dining. Jackie’s business was a breakfast, lunch and snack proposition except when the fall color hit. For the Fall Festival, he spruced up his dinner menu with chili any way and every way he could imagine it. Otherwise, the Smokehouse was the place to go for an evening meal.
When she walked into the shadowy coolness of the restaurant, Andi sighed with relief. It was a bit early for dinner but that would be a good thing. She could avoid the mayor and enjoy her meal in peace and quiet.
A steady flip-flop approached, and Andi turned and smiled at Sarah Wilson. The Wilsons had been her neighbors growing up. Sarah’s parents still lived in Tall Pines but Andi did her absolute best to avoid that neighborhood now. It was too painful.
“Afternoon, Sheriff. Want your usual spot?” If she’d thought about it for a minute, it might have bothered Andi that she was so predictable. She had usual drinks, usual meals and usual spots. That constituted a rut.
“That’d be great.” Andi followed her to the table, biting back the advice that wanted to tumble out regarding proper restaurant footwear. It wasn’t her place. And so what if flip-flop, flip-flop was annoying? If it didn’t bother Amanda in her own restaurant, then it shouldn’t bother Andi. Clearly, she needed to concentrate on what was important here: dessert.
Andi decided to take the seat facing the kitchen, with her back toward the door. The place was deserted now but it was only a matter of time until someone came in, spotted her and tried to pump her for information on what had happened at Jackie’s. She had no illusions about the spread of the story. At this time of day, Andi could call somebody two counties away and get some distorted version of what had happened, what she said and where the body was hidden.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Sarah asked.
“Sweet tea, please,” Andi responded, as always. Sarah flip-flopped her way to the kitchen to get Andi’s drink.
Even though she’d be having her usual, Andi perused the menu because that was the right thing to do in restaurants. A small breeze stirred over her shoulder and, thinking it was Sarah returning with the tea, Andi looked up with a smile on her face.
Mark Taylor smiled back. “Well, Sheriff, I have to say I didn’t expect such a warm welcome.” He pulled out the seat across from her and sat down before he rested both elbows on the table. “What are we having?”
Andi snapped the menu closed and got ready to blast him. She did not want her dinner interrupted by Jackie’s case.
Sarah intervened with a sweaty glass of iced tea. “Well, Mark, I didn’t know you were joining the sheriff. What can I get you to drink?”
Andi opened her mouth to say that his drink should be delivered to another table, any other table, but she could tell with one quick look that Sarah would have trouble remembering anything she might say. Her large blue eyes were locked on Mark Taylor like he was the second coming of Tom Cruise right here in Tall Pines.
He didn’t see her worshipping gaze. When Andi looked at Mark to give him the stunning glare of death, he was smiling back at her. “And that’s more like it.” He shot a glance up at beautiful young Sarah and said, “Make it tea.”
She nodded distractedly. Andi wondered if Sarah heard his answer but then realized it didn’t matter. She would have his choice memorized.
“Are y’all ready to order?” Sarah asked them both, but she was looking at Mark.
Clearing her throat, Andi said loudly, “I’ll have the chef salad with vinaigrette on the side, Sarah.”
Sarah nodded again but didn’t take out her notepad. She had probably already put in Andi’s usual order.
“A salad? In a rib joint?” Mark looked at Andi. Both eyebrows were raised and his mouth hung open. He was clearly offended. He glanced up at Sarah. “Can she do that?”
Sarah answered with a maniacal giggle. “Well, I guess so, Mark. She does it almost every time she comes in.”
He shook his head as if he couldn’t quite believe it but he’d allow it anyway and handed over the menu. “I think I’ll have the special tonight, Sarah. And make sure it has the sweet sauce instead of the mild, okay?”
She stacked the menus and put extra swish in her exit, glancing back over her shoulder to see if she had an audience. When she saw that Andi was the only one watching, she straightened her shoulders, slammed the menus back in the basket next to the phone and pushed through the swinging doors.
“So, Sheriff, a salad? Here? In the home of the best ribs in the northeast part of the state?” His lips twitched as he pointed to the sign hanging over the front door that listed that exact honor. The Smokehouse had been voted number one in the newspaper’s annual poll.
Andi nodded. “Yes, but you’ll wish you’d gone a different route when Sarah brings me a slice of cheesecake bigger than my head.”
“Ah, I get it. You store up a few karmic calories so that you splurge on dessert.” Mark shrugged. “Whereas I live by the philosophy that there’s absolutely no reason I can’t have both if I want to.”
Andi tapped her finger to her lip before she said, “You know, that doesn’t surprise me a bit.” She opened her napkin with a snap and spread it over her legs. “And if I lived by that philosophy, I’d definitely have to buy a bigger uniform.”
“Sheriff, I’m beginning to think you don’t know me at all.” Mark made a show of glancing over her tan uniform. “But this uniform looks pretty good on you, so your philosophy must be working.”
Andi couldn’t help it. She rolled her eyes.
He laughed. “What? You don’t think my flattery is sincere?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure anything about you is sincere.” It was a good thing the restaurant went for mood lighting. If they’d been anywhere with lightbulbs stronger than forty watts, he’d be able to see how flustered he made her. Sarah brought out their drinks, a basket of rolls and pats of butter. She didn’t say a word but retreated to the front door to greet any new visitors that might come in.
“Now, Sheriff. That sorta hurts my feelings.” Andi couldn’t see it in this lighting but he might have slapped on a halo before he answered. “I believe you have me pegged as some sort of city slicker out to pull the wool over your eyes for some nefarious reason.”
Andi shook her head. “No. I have you pegged as some city clicker who’s out to pull the wool over my eyes because it keeps you entertained. And if you get a juicy story, too, so much the better. It sells papers.” She snorted. “Am I wrong? You did move here from the city. You do seem to take extreme pleasure in poking at me. And now you’re trying to convince me that you find my uniform attractive. And the truth is you could crook your finger and have any number of women lined up, so there’s no reason to tease me.”
As he buttered a roll, he considered Andi’s answer. He took a big bite and offered the rest to her. She gave him a repressive frown but knew it