Page 10 of All the Missing Pieces

And damn, I liked the way her voice transformed with it, taking on an almost sultry air. “That depends. If I run you, am I going to find any warrants I need to arrest you for?”

Her eyes didn’t flash this time; they danced. “Only one way to find out.”

Hell.The dancing was worse. I cleared my throat and handed the license back to her. “I’ll let you off with a warning. This time. Try to keep from inciting any future riots, would you?”

She snatched the license and shoved it and her wallet into her back pocket. “Can’t make any promises, Law Man.”

And with that she climbed into her van.

I couldn’t help but watch as she expertly backed out, navigating the van in a way that said she was perfectly comfortable with the vehicle, which matched the aura of the woman completely. A light, sunshiny teal, flowers laid along the dashboard, and some sort of pendant hanging from the rearview mirror.

I stayed standing there until the van completely disappeared from sight. Something about it, abouther,held me to the spot until the connection was completely broken. The moment it was, my back teeth ground together.Goddamned moronic.

For all I knew, Ridley Bennett was a con woman making her way across the US by swindling grannies. I should run thelicense just in case. Time had given me a good memory for those combinations of letters and numbers.

Pulling out my cell, I typed the license number into my notes app. I’d look it up back at the station. Then I switched to my text app.

Me

You need anything from town? I’ll swing by your place on the way home.

Shortcake

I wouldn’t hate some coconut curry… My treat?

I stared down at the screen. She had the menu memorized by now even though she’d never once seen it in person.

Me

You got it. Banana fritters?

Shortcake

I never say no to dessert.

I checked the time and then shoved my cell back into my pocket. I had two and a half hours before the end of my shift and a mountain of paperwork I needed to catch up on, but still, I found myself wandering in the opposite direction of the station.

In a matter of minutes, I was pushing open the door of The Whiskey Barrel. It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the low light of the bar. At half past two, only the diehards were present, a couple at tables and a few more at the bar.

I clapped a man on the shoulder as he stared up at a silent game on the screen in one corner of the bar. “Hey, Hal.”

He didn’t look away. “Colt. Any good trouble today?”

“Celia tried to rip a trash can out of the ground.”

Hal chuckled. “Protecting baby geese crossing the street or raging at someone for not recycling?”

“Trying to break a cat out of a car.”

That had Hal glancing my way, eyebrows raised. “That cat recover from the ordeal?”

“Thankfully she didn’t succeed.”

Hal shook his head and turned back to the game as I headed toward a man on the other side of the bar. His dark-blond hair was in its usual disarray, facial hair halfway between scruff and a beard. His gray eyes in their usual fixed position, on a worn paperback.

“What is it today?” I asked.

Trey lifted the book as he kept on reading. The title had an epic string of words that involved cults and bioterrorism. I grunted. “Real cheery reading.”

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