Now my cheeks felt like they’d been lit on fire. “I haven’t been pretending to be anything.”
She raised an eyebrow and ran a hand over the top of her flat top. “Right. Look, I can imagine how you might be a little bored at home and how—”
“Now, wait a minute!”
“—it must be kind of fun to get out and play cops and robbers or whatever you’d like to call it,” she continued. “But getting in fights with people and going around and questioning everyone you meet is not a good idea. And I can’t have you getting in the way of my investigation.”
Jake leaned forward. “I don’t think anyone is getting in the way of your investigation.”
I could tell by his body language—shoulders up, brow furrowed, lack of a smile—that while he may have disagreed with what I’d been doing, he wasn’t terribly happy to have Detective Priscilla Hanborn interrupting our dinner and reprimanding me.
Which made me love him all the more.
“Not yet,” Hanborn said, shooting him a look. “But that’s the way we seem to be going and I’d like to put a stop to it.” She looked back at me. “Right now.”
“So, what exactly have you learned so far?” I asked, doing my best to not wrestle her to the ground like I had with Olga.
She looked down her nose at me. “That really isn’t any of your business.”
“It’s not? The body was in my house. I think it’s absolutely our business.”
“The crime committed wasn’t against you,” she said, shrugging. “Therefore you don’t really have a vested interest.”
“I have a vested interest because that man was found in my home,” I said, my voice firm. “And because everyone in town knows he was found there and it’s affecting my kids and my family. So don’t tell me it’s not any of my business.”
She gave me a hard stare, one I’m sure she saved for all of the dangerous criminals that she rounded up in Moose River on a daily basis. I managed to not wither and run away in fear.
“It’s an ongoing investigation,” she said. She tugged on her bolo tie, straightening it. “It’s none of your business.”
It was like someone told her what buttons of mine to push in order to irritate the hell out of me. She’d found the button and stuck her finger on it.
“I’m asking you to mind your own business and stop asking questions,” she said. “I’m the question-asker around here.”
I wanted to reach out and grab her little bolo tie and strangle her.
“We’re going to finish our dinner now, Detective,” Jake said. “If you’ll excuse us.”
She kept her eyes on me for an extra moment, then nodded. “Certainly.” She stood. “It appears my dinner date has arrived, anyway.”
Both Jake and I turned in the direction of the door. A beautiful blond woman was making her way toward us. Her hair fell nearly to her waist and she wore a tight-fitting black top and matching skirt that looked like it was painted on to her ridiculously fit body. She smiled at both Jake and me, then wrapped her arms around Detective Hanborn’s neck and planted a kiss on her cheek.
“Hey, Pris,” she whispered.
“Belinda,” Detective Hanborn said, beaming. “Go grab us a table.”
“For sure.” She nodded and sauntered off.
I stole a quick glance at Jake. His mouth was wide open and I knew it wasn’t because the woman who’d just approached our table was a knock out. He was wondering the exact same thing I was.
Detective Hanborn cleared her throat. “You’ll forgive me for not introducing my sister.”
“Your sister?” Even I could hear the blatant disbelief in my tone. “Really?”
Detective Priscilla Hanborn cinched up her belt and gave me a disgusted look. “Who did you think it was?”
TWENTY EIGHT
“Of course I thought it was her lesbian lover,” I said to Jake as we drove home. “Who else would it have been?”
He turned the wheel and pulled the SUV into the dirt lot we called a driveway. “Her sister, for one.”
“You thought the same thing,” I reminded him.
“No, I didn’t,” he said.
But he was grinning and I just shook my head. “Sisters,” I snorted, shaking my head. “Because they looked so much alike. Please.”
He chuckled. “Just can’t make assumptions these days.”
“Whatever,” I said, crossing my arms. “I don’t like her.”
He cut the engine and pulled the key from the ignition. “No. You don’t like that she told you to back down. Which, by the way, I’ve also been saying.”
“I’m aware,” I said, frowning at him. “But what exactly is she doing? I mean, she hasn’t been back to talk to us and I certainly haven’t seen her around town, talking to the people I’ve been talking to.”
He reached for my hand. “I’m sure she’s doing whatever she’s supposed to be doing. Like her or not, she’s a detective and I’d assume a competent one since the town employs her.”
I shook my head and turned to the window. All of the lights in the house were on. That was standard operating procedure when we were out at night. I was pretty sure the kids thought hitting every switch in the house would keep them safe.
I turned back to Jake. “So do you think I should knock it off?”
“I’ve already given up on that.”
“I’m asking seriously.”
He threaded his fingers into mine. “Do I think that going around and asking questions to try and find out what happened is the best use of your time?” He shook his head. “No. I don’t. But I also know it’s kind of driving you nuts and that it’s not exactly your thing to just sit back and relax.” He smiled. “And that’s why I’m not going to bang my head against a wall telling you to knock it off.”
He leaned over and kissed me and thoughts of the detective and the investigation evaporated. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him close and he kissed me harder and I wondered how I’d gone twenty years without being kissed the way he kissed me.
I pulled my mouth away from his. “The kids are going to come out,” I whispered. “And scream that we are making out.”
“Let them,” he said, kissing me again. “We’ve heard it before.”
We stayed out there for a few minutes, kissing, until my phone started vibrating. Reluctantly, I pulled away from Jake and took the phone out of my purse.
It was a text from Will.
Calling the police.
Why?
Car in driveway. I can’t see who it is. Might be robbers. Or worse. When will u be home??????
We ARE home.
???
We are the car in the driveway!!!
Why r u out there? It doesn’t look like u.
Jake and I are making out.
GROSS!!! But I will call the police back and tell them not to come.
“We have to go inside,” I said.
“Why?”
“Because Will called the police.”
“What??”
I continued. “And is now calling them back to tell them not to come—because he mistook his parents making out in the driveway for robbers,” I said.
Jake leaned his head back against the seat and laughed. “At least they would’ve known the address.”
TWENTY NINE
The sun was out early the next morning and the frigid winter winds had once again subsided, which meant I could actually send the kids outside to play without fear of them dying from exposure. The winter had been especially cold, even for Minnesota, and they’d started to go stir crazy having to find ways to entertain themselves indoors. Even Will, who was almost always content camped out in front of his computer, had bemoaned the fact that winter was the only season we’d seen for months.
They foraged for their snow pants and jackets and were out the door as soon as they were done with breakfast, rummaging through the garage for shovels and sleds, intent on tricking out the bobsled track they’d built earlier in the week.