LITMIR.BIZ

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not to.

      “The fact remains, I know my friend, Zoe,” he said with emphasis. “And you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

      She dragged in a deep breath, and he couldn’t help but notice how her fitted shirt strained against the buttons across her chest. Oh yes, sweet curves all right. But off-limits, as was any woman serving in the police force. Cord let his gaze drift to the photo frame sitting on the antique sideboard across the room. Britney. God. Seeing her graduation picture from the police academy every day was a reminder of everything he’d lost. Her death two years ago, while on her first shift of active duty, had been soul destroying, and it was Jesse who’d kept him sane through that awful, dark time.

      No, Jesse was not the kind of man to commit murder, and Cord would do whatever he could to ensure Detective Warren knew that. And, he reminded himself as he flicked his gaze back to the woman in front of him, if he ever embarked on a long-term relationship again, it wouldn’t be with a woman who wore a badge and a gun and hunted down bad guys for a living. No matter how much his libido told him otherwise.

      “Sometimes we’re not always honest with the people we’re closest to,” she said in an obvious attempt to placate him. “Do you know when would be a good time for me to catch Mr. Stevens at home? I called on him earlier and no one was in.”

      “He runs a working ranch, so I guess it’s safe to say there’s never a good time. We have to make the most of the daylight hours available to us,” Cord said, hedging, unwilling to give the woman more information than was absolutely necessary.

      “Well, I caught you at home, didn’t I? Mr. Galicia, are you being deliberately obstructive or is this just your charming way of treating all strangers?”

      “Obstructive?” Cord felt a trickle of irritation at her insinuation. He wasn’t being obstructive; he was being careful. They were two very different things.

      “That’s the usual terminology when someone deliberately withholds information.”

      He watched as she picked up her water glass and drained it. Her throat was long and slender, the muscles working delicately as she swallowed her drink. Damn if the sight of that pale column of skin didn’t give him a hard-on. She snapped the glass back onto the table in front of her and rose on those enticingly long legs, then reached into her back pocket for a business card. She handed it to him as he hastened to stand.

      “Call me if you suddenly remember how I can best reach Mr. Stevens,” she said with a slight curl of her lip. “I’ll be staying in Royal for a few days.”

      “Does the sheriff know you’re in town?”

      He could see she wanted to tell him that was none of his business, but instead she gave him a brusque nod.

      “Of course,” she said. “He’s assisting in my inquiries.”

      Cord nodded. That made sense. The sheriff and the Hamm family went way back. “Maybe he can tell you how to get ahold of Jesse, since he’s assisting you and all.”

      He couldn’t resist goading her just a little. It rankled that she’d come out here without any notice on some jumped-up idea that Jesse was involved in Vincent Hamm’s murder. The very thought was ridiculous. Jesse was the kind of guy to always bend over backward to help others, and Cord knew he’d gone the extra mile with Hamm on several occasions. And then the one time Jesse had to ask Hamm for a favor…

      A frisson of warning prickled at the back of his mind. Was that what this was about? Had this woman unearthed something about Jesse asking Hamm a favor? A favor Hamm had refused to act on. Was that her angle? That Jesse had somehow been mad enough to exact revenge?

      “I’m sure he will. Next time I talk to him, I’ll be certain to get the lowdown on you, too.”

      “Me? Hey, you want to know about me, feel free to ask me anything.” Cord spread his arms wide and quirked one corner of his lips up in a smile. “I’m an open book.”

      She sniffed. “Thank you for the water. No doubt I’ll be speaking to you again.”

      The thought of seeing her again had its merits, but he doubted she meant what he was thinking.

      “I’ll look forward to it,” he replied, imbuing into that handful of words enough innuendo to make Ms. Warren stiffen and give him a hard look.

      “We’ll see about that.”

      He led the way to the front door and watched her as she stepped onto the porch. There was a determined set to her shoulders, and he knew she wouldn’t be deterred by him. One way or another she’d track Jesse down, and Cord didn’t want it to be today. Jesse had enough on his plate with his sister’s emergency surgery today. It had started out as routine to remove an inflamed appendix, but the dang thing had already ruptured, spilling infection through Janet’s body. While she was receiving the best care possible, Jesse was beside himself with worry. Last thing Jesse needed was this detective visiting him in the hospital.

      Maybe Cord could appeal to her good will, he thought. Just as the woman reached her grime-covered car, he called out.

      “Jesse is at the hospital—that’s why he’s not at home right now. His sister had an operation today. There were complications. He’s been there all day. A decent person would leave him be.”

      “Mr. Galicia, are you suggesting I’m not a decent person?” She cocked one brow as she raised the question.

      “Well, that remains to be seen, doesn’t it?” he challenged. “Give him a couple of days at least.”

      “And what do you suggest I do in the meantime? Paint my nails?”

      He had to hand it to her. She didn’t back down, not one bit. He probably shouldn’t have told her about Jesse being at the hospital, but he’d hoped he could appeal to her sense of compassion. Surely she had one in there somewhere behind that blue-eyed deadpan stare of hers?

      “Maybe we could have a drink or a meal somewhere?”

      “Are you asking me on a date?”

      The incredulity on her face would have been funny if it hadn’t been so insulting.

      “Sure, why not?”

      For a second or two she looked totally at a loss for words. As a distraction tactic, asking her out clearly had merit, he thought with a quiet twinge of satisfaction. At least it appeared to have stopped her in her stride.

      “What about it?” he pressed. “Tonight, just a drink. You can ask me anything you want.”

      “I can ask you anything I want anytime I want. I have a badge, remember?”

      “What? Are you afraid of spending time with me?”

      She snorted. “I’m not afraid of anything, Mr. Galicia. Especially not you. Sure, fine. What time and where?”

      “Why don’t I pick you up? Where’re you staying?”

      She named the motel.

      “How about seven?” he asked, beginning to wonder what in hell he was letting himself in for.

      “Seven is good.”

      Then, without another word, she got into her car and swung it around the circular driveway and back toward the main road. Cord watched until she went out of sight, then slowly closed the door to his house. His grandmother would have said he’d gone totally loco. Even he didn’t understand fully what had prompted him to make the offer to Detective Warren, aside from the need to protect his best friend from her questioning. He flicked a look at his watch. Jesse said he’d be at the hospital until the nurses kicked him out. It would take the detective about forty minutes to get to town from here, then no doubt she’d want to fluff a bit like women did. She wouldn’t have time to go to the hospital and bother Jesse, but just in case, Cord dragged his cell phone from his back pocket and thumbed a text to his friend.

      How’s Janet doing?

      She’s

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