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persons report on her cousin just yet.” He leaned down a little bit farther, set his eyes on Sadie, and grinned. “You must be Sadie Mae.” He glanced at Jennifer. “I told you if your cousin was with Truman she’d be just fine.”

      Jennifer crossed her arms and glared at Sadie through the windshield, a picture of pouting petulance in her tight jeans and cropped shirt that showed off her belly button and the shiny silver ring that sparkled there. Sadie stared at the piercing for a moment. Didn’t it hurt?

      Truman waggled his fingers at the young deputy. “I think you can turn off your lights now. The emergency is over.”

      The kid reached into his patrol car and shut off the flashing lights, but not before accidentally giving the sirens a quick wail.

      So much for a quick, quiet return home. Sadie threw open her door and stepped into the parking lot. Immediately, Truman killed the engine and followed suit.

      She stood and looked at him over the hood of his truck. “You really don’t have to escort me to the door,” she said dryly.

      He continued to walk around the truck, limping more than usual. Sleeping in the truck couldn’t be good for his knee. Dammit, she refused, absolutely refused, to worry about his knee like she cared about him and whether or not he hurt.

      “It was fun,” he said. “We’ll have to do it again.”

      Sadie shook her head. No way. This one evening had been bad enough, and there would be no repeat performance.

      Jennifer stalked toward her. “How could you do this to me? I was worried sick. Ten. You said ten!”

      “Sorry,” Sadie said, anxious to make her getaway before anyone else saw her.

      “Sorry,” Jennifer said, once again crossing her arms across her chest. “That hardly seems sufficient.”

      Bryce and Truman both laughed.

      Sadie stared at Truman, at his sleepy blue eyes that had an unexpected crinkle at the corner. “What’s so funny?”

      “You don’t know how many nights we went out looking for your little cousin before she turned eighteen.”

      “That was different,” Jennifer said, blushing a bright red. “Sadie’s old enough to know better!”

      Jennifer’s eyes dropped slightly, and her mouth pursed in obvious disapproval. Unable to help herself, Sadie followed those eyes. Right next to the little slobber spot on Truman’s jeans was a smudge of red lipstick. “This isn’t what it looks like,” she said softly.

      Jennifer shook her head like a wearied parent and raised her accusing eyes to Sadie. She continued to shake her head. “You’re missing an earring.”

      Both hands flew up to check earlobes. Sure enough, the left lobe was bare. “I can’t believe I lost one of those diamond studs.”

      “I’m pretty sure you had them both when we left the restaurant,” Truman said calmly. “It’s probably in the truck.”

      “You can look for it later,” Sadie said, backing up a step toward the hotel. “No rush.” The earrings had cost her a small fortune, a gift to herself when she’d gotten her last raise, but no amount of money was worth prolonging this torture.

      But Bryce was already leaning into the driver’s side of the truck, dutifully checking the seat cushions. He found the earring in a matter of seconds. “Here it is,” he said, coming up with something in his hand. “Half of it, anyway.”

      The good half, Sadie saw as the young deputy offered her the diamond on the palm of his hand.

      “It was wedged there in the cushion of the, uh, driver’s seat.”

      The earring had probably come loose while she’d slept with her head in Truman’s lap. Jennifer and Bryce obviously thought other things had been going on, in the, uh, driver’s seat.

      “Thank you.” Sadie saw no reason to offer explanations. Anything she said would just sound like a pathetic excuse at this point.

      Truman came toward her, favoring his right leg, smiling like this was all so very amusing. He looked freshly tumbled, warm and sleepy and…happy. If she looked anything like this, no wonder Bryce grinned like an idiot and Jen frowned and shook her head.

      “It was great,” Truman said softly, but plenty loud enough for the others to hear.

      “Nothing was great,” Sadie insisted. “There was no great.”

      “How about Friday?” he asked, his voice a touch lower than before.

      “Not on your life,” she whispered.

      A car door slammed. Mary Beth had arrived at the coffee shop. The waitress glanced at the commotion in the parking lot, smiled and headed for the front door with her key in hand. Bowie was right beside her. They whispered and giggled as they entered the café.

      Sadie sighed. Had she actually thought her return home might be quiet and uneventful?

      “There you are!” A familiar voice called from behind. Sadie closed her eyes as Aunt Lillian approached. “I don’t need you for breakfast today,” the woman continued. “But I will need you for lunch.”

      “Sure,” Sadie said without turning to look at her aunt.

      “Would you two like breakfast? We’ll be open in a few minutes.”

      Sadie looked her aunt in the eye, and saw that in spite of her casual voice and smile she’d been crying. Still or again? A murder taking place so close by obviously had shaken her.

      “I’m starving,” Truman said.

      “I’m not hungry,” Sadie countered. “Not at all.”

      Lillian stopped and laid a hand on Sadie’s arm and another on Truman’s. “You two make such a cute couple,” she said with a wan smile.

      “Thank you,” Truman said.

      “We do not!” Sadie insisted.

      The older woman moved on, unperturbed.

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