How was she ever going to return to the shop she’d poured her heart into for five years without picturing Susan’s body behind the counter?
Fingers wrapped around her mug, Kristin took a sip of her tepid tea and slid onto a stool at the kitchen island. Played with a piece of lettuce poking out of the turkey sandwich she’d made after her stomach reminded her it was closer to dinnertime than the lunch hour. Shoved the plate aside.
She needed to eat, but the day’s events were twisting her insides into knots—as was the thought of returning to the shop.
Rising again, she resumed the restless pacing that had filled her day. When did the police expect her to do the walk-through Detective Carter had mentioned, anyway? It was already four forty-five. Going in daylight would be bad enough. But returning at night, even with all the lights on, even with the detective by her side?
Ugh.
And why hadn’t he called to give her an update? He came across as a buttoned-up kind of guy. Efficient, professional, focused.
Maybe another hot case had called him away.
Or he might have decided to call it a night and head home to the wife—and perhaps family—the wedding band on his left hand indicated he had.
Yeah, yeah, she’d noticed the ring on Saturday night . . . after those dark green eyes, with their hint of sadness, had sucked her in. Not to mention the tall, toned physique, brown hair that looked like it would be oh-so-soft to touch, strong jaw, deep voice with a hint of . . .
A musical chime echoed through the condo and she jerked, sloshing the pale liquid in her mug.
Who would be at her door at this hour of the afternoon?
Heart hammering, she set the mug on the counter. Had one of the reporters who’d called the condo decided to track her down in person?
Rubbing her icy hands together, she tiptoed to the door and peeked through the skylight.
The man on her doorstep wasn’t a reporter after all.
It was Rick.
Relief surging through her, she pulled the door open. “What are you doing here?”
“What do you think I’m doing here? And hello to you too.” He walked in, juggling a large Panera bag in one hand and a tray with two drinks in the other. He set everything on the table in her foyer, closed her front door, and pulled her into a hug. “I’d have come right after you called if I wasn’t in the middle of a slight emergency at the camp. How are you holding up?”
Tears pricked her eyelids, and she gave him a squeeze. “I’ve had better days.”
“I bet.”
He didn’t release her until she edged back. Even then, he grasped her upper arms and kept her close while he gave her a critical appraisal. “You haven’t eaten anything since breakfast, have you?”
“I made a sandwich. What kind of emergency did you have?”
“You’re evading my question. Made and eaten are two different things. Which means you haven’t had any food. I brought dinner.”
She looked at the man who was closer to her than any brother could ever be, and her vision blurred. What would she have done without him and Colin for the past twenty-plus years? Her parents might say they loved her, but her friends were the ones who’d always been there for her.
“I didn’t expect you to drive all the way in. I only called so you wouldn’t hear about this on the news.”
“I don’t live that far out. And you’d have been in big trouble if I did hear about it on the news. Remember—all for one and one for—”
Her bell chimed again.
She cringed. “I hope that’s not a reporter.” She swiveled around and peeked through the peephole again.
Detective Carter stood on the other side.
Huh.
She hadn’t expected him to show up without calling first.
“You want me to handle this?” Rick draped a protective arm around her shoulders.
“No need. It’s the case detective. You met him at the wedding on Saturday. I’m supposed to go back to the shop and do a walk-through, see if I notice anything missing or out of the ordinary.”
“Not until you eat.” He tightened his grip.
She twisted the knob and pulled the door open.
The detective looked from her to Rick. Recognition dawned in his eyes, and he gave the other man a brief nod before his gaze flicked to the arm around her shoulders and returned to her face.
“Sorry to interrupt. I was passing this way and decided to stop by with an update rather than call.”
His words sounded a bit stiff. Like he was miffed. Or more likely just tired. The man had no doubt had a long day.
“Would you like to come in?” Kristin backed up.
“Not necessary. The CSU tech needed longer than expected, and we were busy with interviews this afternoon. Rather than go back tonight, why don’t I pick you up in the morning? Unless you have another ride?” He glanced at Rick.
“No. Rick lives too far out. I don’t expect him to come back into town in the morning to be my chauffeur.”
His expression shifted subtly. Kristin couldn’t quite identify the emotion, but it almost seemed like . . . relief?
No. That was absurd.
“I’ll come by at eight o’clock, if that’s not too early.”
“That’s fine. I’m an early riser. Thanks for stopping in.”
He dipped his chin, turned on his heel, and retreated down the curving walk that led from her condo to the parking lot.
“Not the most sociable guy.” Rick reached around her and closed the door.
“I suppose dealing with murder and mayhem every day can do that to a man.”
“I guess. He wasn’t too happy to see me here, either.”
“Why would he care about that?” Kristin followed as he picked up their dinner and carried it toward the café table in her kitchen. “And how did you come to such an off-the-wall conclusion, anyway?”
“It’s a guy thing.”
“Oh, please.”
“It is. Ask Colin.”
“He’d side with you. He always does about that kind of stuff. Besides, he’s not available.”
“You should call and let him know what’s going on.”
“Are you nuts? He’s on his honeymoon!”
“You want me to call?” He paused beside the counter to examine her uneaten turkey sandwich, shook his head, and continued to the table with their dinner.
“No! I do not want you to interrupt his honeymoon. Promise me you won’t.”
“He’ll be mad when he finds out you kept him in the dark.”
“I’ll deal with it. Promise.”
“Fine.” He sat and motioned to the chair on the other side of the table. “I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”
She covered the sandwich with some plastic wrap and joined him. He bowed his head while she said a blessing, then dived in.
“You weren’t kidding about being hungry.” She took a sip of soda.
“I missed lunch.”
“Because of your emergency?”
“Yeah.” He tapped the box containing her sandwich, waited until she opened it and took a bite, then spent the next fifteen minutes regaling her with a hilarious story about the antics of one of the kids who’d come out for a day camp and promptly wedged himself between two trees.
“As a last resort, we lubricated the trees with a ton of vegetable shortening. It worked, but his clothes were a total loss and he had to stand under a hot shower for thirty minutes to get all the grease off. Pardon the pun, but he was not a happy camper.”
By the time he finished, Kristin had eaten most of her sandwich and all of her chips. He’d even managed to elicit a few chuckles.
“You missed your calling, you know. You should have been a stand-up comic.”
“I’d rather make people I care about laugh. So . . .” He closed his empty box and grew more serious. “Now that you have some food in your stomach, do you want to talk about what happened today?”
“There isn’t much to talk about.” She repeated the story she’d told twice already. “I don’t know what’s been happening since the police whisked me out of the shop.”
He covered her fingers with his. “I’m sorry.”
That was all he said—but those two words held a world of compassion.
“Me too. Especially for Susan.” Her voice hitched, and she took another drink of soda.
“Did the police speculate on a motive?”
“They’re going to check out her ex, but I don’t think that will amount to anything. He’s in Denver.”
“What else could it be?”
“I haven’t a clue.”
He gathered up their empty containers, creases denting his brow. “Are you comfortable staying here by yourself tonight?”
She shot him a startled look. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know. It just seems odd that your shop was targeted. The jewelry store down the street would have yielded a much bigger payoff.”
“Assuming robbery was the motive.”
“That’s what I mean.”
She digested that for a moment. “Are you suggesting this was somehow personal to me?”
“I’m speculating, not suggesting.”
“But Susan is . . . she’s the one who died.”
“She wasn’t supposed to be there Monday afternoon, though—right?”
Kristin crumpled her napkin into a hard ball, her dinner congealing in her stomach. “Are you trying to scare me?”
“No. Trying to come up with some theories about what’s going on.”
“I don’t have any enemies.”
“I know. Your detective has his work cut out for him.” He swirled the ice in his cup. “Did he say anything to you about being careful?”
“No.”
The tautness in his features relaxed a hair. “That makes me feel better.”
“Why?”
“Because he likes you—and if there was any reason to be concerned about your safety, I think he would have suggested you be cautious.”
She choked on her sip of soda. “Wait a minute. Back up. What do you mean, he likes me?”
“You heard me. He likes you.”
“That’s crazy. He’s married.”
“How do you know?”
“He’s wearing a ring.”
“Ah-ha. You checked. And you always claim women are above that.”
“It’s a distinctive ring. Hard to miss.” True—but not the reason she’d noticed. A confession she had no intention of sharing with Rick, despite his best-bud status.
“Married or not, he likes you.”
“How in the world did you arrive at that preposterous conclusion?”
“It’s all in the eyes.” He tapped the side of one of his baby blues. “They warm up when he looks at you.”
“I think your lemonade was spiked.”
“Nope. I noticed it at the wedding, and again tonight.”
“Oh, come on.” She didn’t attempt to hide her skepticism. “You’ve spent all of . . . what? Two minutes in the man’s company? You’re reading far more into whatever you’re seeing than is there.”
“Think so?” He stood and deposited the trash from their dinner in her waste can.
“Yeah.”
“Then why did he seem relieved to hear I wasn’t spending the night with you?”
Maybe she hadn’t imagined the detective’s reaction, if Rick had picked up on it too.
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Nope. I’d bet you on it, but I don’t want to take your money.”
She stood too. “I’m done with this discussion.”
“You’re blushing, you know.”
“I am not.” Yes, she was. Her cheeks were hot.
“If you say so.” He grinned and strolled toward the door.
She followed.
When he turned back to her, though, his demeanor was again serious. “Call if you want to talk. Or if you decide you’d rather not be here alone tonight.”
“I’ll be fine, Rick. But I appreciate the thought—and the dinner.”
“Anytime. Call me tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
After another hug, he followed the same curving path to his car that Detective Carter had taken.
She waited until he pulled away with a wave out his window, then shut and locked the door.
Truth be told, she wouldn’t have minded some company tonight. But Rick led a busy life, and he had a long drive home.
Besides, much as she loved him, she’d prefer a different kind of company this evening.
Like a tall, handsome detective—who was not named Colin.
Too bad her detective buddy wasn’t around, though, so she could ask a few questions about his new colleague.
Not that it mattered, of course.
A man who wore a wedding ring was either married or sending a “not available” signal.
In other words, he was off-limits.
Which was one more downer on this mother-of-all-downers day.