Page 23 of Killer on the Homestead
“You didn’t tell them it was for the case?”
He looked at her, all feigned innocence that clearly irritated her. And amused him even more. “Should I have?”
She gave an injured sniff, focused on the road, and held the steering wheel just a touch too tight, if the white in her knuckles was anything to go by. “I’m sure they know,” she said stiffly.
“Yeah,” he replied. “I’msure.”
Her knuckles got even whiter as she drove.
Rosalie still hadn’tdecided how to handle Duncan. She figured the flirting was just for fun, or maybe even just part of his personality. Normally, that sort of thing didn’t bother her any because it was usuallyherMO.
But something about Duncan really scrambled things up. Or maybe it was themurder, which he should care more about than scrambling her up.
Of course, she’d seen the way he’d looked at his parents. So full of worry. She saw the way the last several days hung on him, almost as much as it hung on his dad. Their color was off, and they both managed to look…gaunt.
Maybe that was the scramble. She didn’t know this guy, not on any deeper level, but she saw things she recognized in him.
And she didn’tlikeit. Any more than she liked his big frame taking up space in her truck. Or that pinched look on his face when they hit a bump and his arm in the sling bounced a little and clearly hurt him.
Or the fact it made her drive slower.
She pulled to a stop in the parking lot at the sheriff’s department, then led Duncan inside.
She waved at the admin at the front desk, didn’t bother to sign in because she knew Vicky wouldn’t say anything to anyone about it, and made a beeline for the detective’s office.
Copeland wasn’t in it, and neither was the third Bent County detective, Laurel Delaney-Carson, but Hart was.
“Hart. How’s it going?” Rosalie greeted, gesturing Duncan to follow her into the room.
“Going,” the guy grumbled before glancing up. His gaze stopped on Duncan, clear recognition sweeping over him, but he didn’t linger. He moved his eyes back to Rosalie. “Something I can do for you?”
“No, came to bother Copeland. Hart, this is Duncan Kirk. His parents own the ranch where the murder was. Duncan, Thomas Hart is a detective when he’s not waylaid. Hey, look at that, you guys practically match.” She pointed to both their slings when Thomas stood in greeting.
“I’d shake your hand, but as Rosalie so helpfully pointed out, I’m a bit stuck as of yet,” Thomas said wryly.
“You’re both old. You probably went to high school together,” Rosalie offered, earning her scathing looks from both men. She smiled sweetly.
“I don’t think we did. At least we didn’t run in the same circles,” Thomas said. “But it’s nice to meet you, Duncan. Big fan.”
“I don’t suppose you blew your arm out throwing a ball,” Duncan offered with some humor.
Hart smiled kindly. “Not quite.”
“He got shot saving his wife’s life,” Rosalie said, because she knew somehow it would make them both uncomfortable. “Real hero stuff, our Thomas.”
Before the conversation could continue, Copeland stormed into the office. His eyes were narrowed, and Rosalie figured he thought she was pumping Thomas for info. As if she’d do that here. She’d visit Vi if she wanted to secretly hound Thomas.
“I’m not giving you—either of you—any information you don’t already have,” Copeland said, pointing at Rosalie, then Duncan.
When Rosalie looked over at Hart, Copeland immediately stepped in her line of sight. “And none of that. You can’t use your cousin’s connection to Hart as some sort of leverage.”
“Sure I can,” Rosalie replied good-naturedly. “Vi marrying Thomas has been quite the boon for my business.”
Copeland looked disgustedly at Hart, who shrugged. “I tell my wife everything. Don’t plan to stop. Maybe you need yourself a wife, Cope.”
“I’ll chew my own arm off first,” he muttered, returning his annoyed gaze to Rosalie. “I don’t have anything for you.”
“Maybe I have something foryou.” She didn’t, of course, but he might slip up if he thought she did.
