Page 7 of To Catch a Latte Thick as Thieves

“Any point of contact yet?”

“Well...” Fisher paused.

“Spit it out, Special Agent McCoy,” Van Buren said.

“Yeah.” Brian echoed. “Spit it out.”

“I’m going to a wedding with her on Saturday and a rehearsal dinner on Friday,” Fisher said.

“Ha!” Brian hooted. “Way to move, you dog.”

Van Buren’s eyebrows lifted, but he said nothing, waiting for Fisher’s explanation.

“It’s not like it sounds,” he said. “She needed a date because of an ex-boyfriend who’s going to the wedding. She asked me to help her out. I thought it would be a good opportunity to observe her and the people in her life, to see exactly who has access to the accounts of the shop, etc.”

“Sounds good,” Van Buren agreed. He left, calling over his shoulder, “Don’t screw it up.”

“Or her,” Brian added.

Fisher threw a pencil at him but Brian ducked just in time. Too bad.

Annie hefted the last chair up onto a table and grabbed her broom. She swept up the crumbs that littered the wooden floor. The Coffee Break had done a brisk business today, and she was grateful. She loved living hip deep in coffee beans and crème brulée.

She left the counter light on while she dumped the refuse into the garbage bin and shoved the broom in the closet. She was about to take off her apron and head upstairs when the front door clanged open with a rattle of bells.

A scream was halfway up her throat before she recognized the man standing in the shadows before her.

“Fisher! You scared me,” she said, feeling her heart knock on her ribs.

“Was there a reason you didn’t lock the door?” He stepped into the shop, scowling.

He moved with a predatory grace that Annie couldn’t help but admire. Shoulders back, square jaw jutting forward, he walked into the room as if he owned it. Every silly, feminine nerve in her body responded with a nervous flutter. Oh, dear.

“Uh...I forgot,” she stammered, forcing herself to concentrate on the conversation.

“Forgot?” he echoed in disbelief. “We’re in central Phoenix and you forgot to lock your front door?”

“I would have remembered eventually,” she protested, stepping around him to lock the door.

“After you were robbed or raped or worse?”

“You’re just a ray of sunshine this evening, aren’t you?” she asked, trying to lighten the serious cast to his features. When she’d first met him, he’d struck her as an overly serious sort. Someone who needed to smile more. It was an impossible challenge to refuse.

“Just promise me that you’ll be more careful,” he said, his features softening a fraction. Annie was encouraged.

“Scout’s honor,” she said, raising her right hand.

“That’s no good.” He shook his head. “How do I know you were a Scout?”

“Are you doubting me?” she asked, plunking her hands on her hips with mock offense.

“Prove it,” he said. “What’s the scout’s credo?”

“Thou shalt not nag?” she asked pointedly.

“Try, ‘always be prepared,’” he said.

“That was my second guess.”

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