Page 34 of Tango
“So you’re the only one who believes me.” If she’s hurt, she hides it well.
“Pretty much. And I hate being wrong, so I really hope you’re telling me the truth.”
She eyes me with mild annoyance. “Would I tell you if I weren’t?”
I smile. “Fair enough.” Pulling open the door, I let Alice into the main room of the sheriff’s office before following her out.
“So how far have you gotten on the video?” Alice asks.
“Not far. Whoever did it, does good work.”
“I know who it likely was,” she says, then waves at the receptionist. “Thanks again for the cookies, Jenny, they were delicious.”
Jenny’s entire expression lights up. “You’re welcome, Alice. I hope to see you around! Though preferably not behind bars.”
Alice laughs. “Me too. See you around!”
We step out onto the sidewalk, and I’m still staring at Alice.
“What?” She brushes her dark hair over her shoulder.
“I thought you said you weren’t social.”
“I’m not usually. But when you’re stuck in a cage with no one to talk to, you improvise. Jenny is really sweet too, so that helps.”
“They let you have cookies in jail?”
“Cookies and—get this—coffee.” Her eyes go wide, and she smiles before turning her attention back to the street. She looks completely different despite spending the night in jail. Like the weight of the world has been lifted off her shoulders.
“You’re in better spirits this morning.”
“I had a talk with God and was reminded that, ‘though a mighty army surrounds me, my heart will not be afraid.’”
“Psalm 27,” I comment appreciatively.
“You know it?” she asks.
“I do. Well.” It’s literally tattooed on my chest. Though she’ll never know that. When evil people come to devour me, when my enemies and foes attack me, they will stumble and fall. I got it right after I rescued Dylan. A reminder that, no matter how deep the waters are, God won’t let me drown.
“It’s probably my favorite of the Psalms,” Alice says.
I can’t tear my gaze from her as Bradyn’s voice echoes in my mind. “I don’t want you getting so close to this that you’re not thinking clearly.” Even as I think them, though, I shove the thoughts aside. I am not getting too close. She’s just interesting, that’s all. I’m allowed to be intrigued, right? That’s not a crime.
No, but murder is.
“Do you like burgers?” I ask, shifting my attention away from thoughts that have no business being in my head.
“I love burgers. Especially if there are onion rings involved.”
“I can help with that. Come on.” I lead her down Main Street and toward the café.
“This place looks like it belongs in a Hallmark movie.”
I laugh. “It’s a great little town, that’s for sure.”
She turns as two teenagers trot their horses down the road, likely working with the animals in preparation for our town’s fall parade, which takes place the first weekend of October. It might be nearly two months away, but they start early around here.
“A western Hallmark, for sure. Do you have a cowboy hat?” she asks, turning to me. “I bet you do.”
