What was Jason’s SUV still doing here?
I crossed the street and walked around the vehicle. Then I tried the doors. Locked. No surprise. I cupped my hands to block the light and peeked in the windows. The inside was clean as a whistle.
“I could arrest you for attempted breaking and entering,” he drawled.
My heart raced a bit when I faced him. “I was just looking, Sheriff.”
“Uh-huh. I saw you pulling on the door handles.”
Busted. “Go ahead and slap the cuffs on me.”
“Being’s you’re running against me, if I arrested you, some people might see it as an abuse of power on my part, so I’m gonna let it slide.” He paused. “What’re you doing here?”
“My truck is on its last legs. I’m considering an upgrade. Thought I’d check the repo lot first. See if the bank’s prices were better than at Stevenson’s car lot in Viewfield.”
Dawson grinned, but I couldn’t read his eyes beneath his sunglasses. “You always have an excuse handy?”
“Only when I need one.”
“So what’s your excuse for not telling me you’d agreed to run in Bill O’Neil’s place? You know, the night I spent in your bed?”
Mature of me, not to look around to see if anyone was listening to our conversation. “I hadn’t decided.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s the truth. They asked me, and I told them I needed time to think it over. Then some stuff happened and…” Stop talking, Mercy. You owe him nothing.
“You running to spite me?”
“No, I’m running in spite of you, Dawson.”
That startled him. “Good to know. But you’re not going to win.”
I offered him a bold smile. “Cocky much?”
He shrugged. “You wanna bet on it?”
“If I do win, will you stay on as a deputy?”
No answer.
“Don’t want to work under a woman?” I taunted.
“Oh, if you’ll recall, darlin’, I do my best work when I’m under a woman.”
I blushed. Damn him.
“I heard about the fire. Glad no one was hurt.”
“Me, too. I was surprised you weren’t there.”
“Why?”
“You seem to be everywhere.”
“You mean I’m present at all your catastrophes?”
“Not nice, Sheriff.”
“Gotta admit, Sergeant Major, you’ve had more adventures in this county in the last nine months as a civilian than most residents have in their entire lives.”
“Is this where you bring up the Gunderson curse?”
Dawson peered at me over the top of his sunglasses. “Is this where you tell me why you’re somehow involved in every suspect thing that goes on around here?”
I opened my mouth to shoot back a retort, but approaching footsteps caught our attention.
Bob Schofield, bank president, hustled between us. “Should I be worried you two are coming to blows?”
“Ask the sheriff. I’m unarmed.” I smiled with my teeth.
“That’s a first.” Dawson smiled with his teeth right back at me.
Hey, he was enjoying this.
So are you.
“Everything is all right?” Bob prompted.
“Me ’n’ Miz Gunderson were just having a friendly discussion.”
“A friendly wager, you mean.”
Dawson’s eyebrow winged up.
Bob said, “Really? What’s the bet?”
“I told the sheriff if he wins the election, I’ll kiss a pig. In public.”
“And Sheriff? What about you?”
When Dawson gave me that lethally sexy cowboy grin, I knew I was totally hosed.
“If she wins? I’ll play the part of the pig and let her kiss me in public.”
That pigheaded jerk.
Dawson eased away from the MasterCraft boat he’d leaned against. “Bob. Nice seeing you.” He shook the banker’s hand. Then he took a step toward me and offered his hand.
I had no choice but to take it. I expected he’d stroke his thumb on the underside of my wrist, or squeeze a bit harder than necessary. He did neither. He simply shook it and said, “See you around, Mercy.”
The retort “Not if I see you first” automatically jumped from my mouth, and both men laughed.
Mature, Gunderson.
Tongues would be wagging about our exchange, and I wouldn’t put it past Bob Schofield to start a betting pool. Bankers. Opportunistic bastards.
I walked to the Blackbird Diner and selected a table close to the front door. Starved, I ordered the noon special, a patty melt with potato dumpling soup.
My mind kept replaying every word of my exchange with Dawson, like some teen crush. Maybe I was a little shocked he wasn’t more pissed off about my running for sheriff, just that I hadn’t told him sooner. That was the kicker; Dawson wasn’t aware he had been the first person I’d told.
I looked up when the door chime jangled. Deputy Moore ordered a cup of coffee to go. She meandered over.
“Mercy. How you doing?” she asked, like she hadn’t spent an hour with me, strategizing a campaign to overthrow her boss.
“Hungry. Got a minute to join me?”
“Only about that. I’m on a coffee run for the sheriff.” She tossed her bag on the chair across from me. “Mitzi, bless her heart, always brews Sheriff Dawson a fresh pot, since he’s so damn picky about his coffee.”
How well I knew that about Mr. Coffee Connoisseur. “So have you heard about Pete’s new venture? Enticing the masses in Eagle Ridge to buy four-dollar cups of coffee?”
“I imagine that we, in the sheriff’s department, won’t have a choice but to patronize it. Can’t be accused of showing favoritism.” She kept her eyes on mine. “I have a package for you. When the coast is clear, I’ll slide it under the table.”
“Okay.” I watched Mitzi duck down beneath the hostess stand. “All clear.”
With stealth I admired, Kiki passed it to me, while nonchalantly sipping her coffee. My fingers briefly grazed the edges of a manila envelope before I secured it in my trusty wonder bag. “What is it?”
“Is Mitzi hovering anywhere nearby?”
“No. She’s wiping tables.”
“She’s got hawklike hearing. I swear she’s Dawson’s best source in this town. I debated coming in here or bringing it to you later.”
“How’d you know where I was?”
Kiki quirked a brow. “Dawson’s web of spies. How do you think he tracked you to the bank parking lot so fast after you left Pete’s?”
Damn.
“Besides, I thought you’d want to see this right away. It’s the coroner’s report on Jason Hawley.” Kiki leaned forward. “And the list of Jason’s personal effects.”
“How’d you manage that?”
“Wasn’t easy. It came yesterday, and the boss immediately locked it in his desk.”
I frowned. “Is that standard procedure?”
“No. Which is why I know something is up. He didn’t show it to Jazinski or me. And neither of us was allowed to catalog the contents of the victim’s vehicle or the motel room.”
A small sheriff’s department meant all employees, from the deputies to the office support staff, knew damn near everything that went on in the county office. So why wasn’t Dawson sharing with his coworkers?
Maybe because he suspects those coworkers are leaking information about an open case to his competition.
“Why are you telling me this?”
Kiki removed her hat and raked a hand through her hair. “As a candidate for sheriff, you should be in the loop on current cases. Plus, I think you actually care about catching whoever killed Jason Hawley. Dawson doesn’t seem to have the level of dedication you do. Which bugs the crap out of me and is also why I’m backing you.”
“I appreciate it, but does Dawson know you’re supporting me?”
“No. He never would’ve left me alone at the station today.” Her nose wrinkled. “At least Jolene was working and not Jilly.”
“Jilly?”