Declan ate his muffin in two bites and grabbed another.
I was about to circle back to Mitch when the back door banged open, and Cassidy Branson blew into the room. She wore full riding gear: cowboy hat, boots, dust on her jeans.
She stopped dead when she saw me, though, and looked me over from boots to badge. “Ah, shit. What’s wrong now?”
I stood and offered my hand. “You must be Cassidy.”
“I am.” She shook my hand, and I let her dominate the grip, which she did damn well. “And you didn’t answer my question.”
“Cassidy …” Mitch’s voice carried a warning.
“Oh, relax.” She crossed to the end of the table and poured herself a coffee without topping anyone else up. Then she dropped into the chair beside Mitch like she’d been sitting in that exact spot since birth and fixed me with a look that told me exactly how sharp she was.
“You gonna tell me what you’re here for? Or is everyone going to make me guess?” She broke a muffin in half and took a bite.
“If you had to guess, what would it be?” I smiled at her like we were old friends.
“Sapphire is here to find Frank,” Mitch said.
Cassidy huffed. “Yeah, well, good luck with that. We’ve looked everywhere.”
I ran her through the same questions I’d asked the brothers. Her answers were near replicas of theirs—smooth, consistent, nothing out of place. However, she watched me with a level of attention that went well beyond what my questions warranted. She was hiding something. I’d have bet my badge on it.
Then another man walked in, and I knew exactly who he was before he opened his mouth.
I clicked my fingers and pointed at him. “You must be Xavier Hawthorne, Cassidy’s co-conspirator in the Bruce Henderson wrecked truck fiasco.”
Xavier’s mouth curved into a quick grin. “Guilty as charged.” He offered his hand across the table. “Xavier Hawthorne. And for the record, that truck was wrecked because of Bruce’s own doing.”
“Xavier.” Cassidy’s voice had an edge to it.
“What? I’m sure the officer already knows.” He pulled out the chair beside Cassidy and sat down like he had all the time in the world.
Cassidy pointed a finger at me. “Whatever Bruce Henderson told the police?—”
“Bruce told us quite a lot, actually.” I kept my smile pleasant. “Though I should mention he told us from the floor of the police station while I pushed his face into the linoleum, so some of it was hard to make out.”
Xavier laughed and nudged Cassidy. “See. Told you she knew.”
Cassidy stared at me for a beat, then something shifted in her expression. Not quite a smile, but close.
“So, are you two together?” I waggled my finger between them.
“That’s none of your business,” Cassidy said, with a smile that could kill.
“Fair enough.” I looked back down at my notebook. “Now, where were we?”
A woman stepped into the room with a sunburn across her nose and her hair tied into two braids over her shoulders. She stopped when she saw the table full of people. Her gaze landed on me, then dropped to the badge on my chest. “Oh. Hello.”
“Hi, I’m Senior Constable Delaney, but please, call me Sapphire.” I smiled at her. “And you are?”
She swept the canvas hat from her head and glanced at Mitch, blinking like she was hoping for a heads-up. “I’m Charlie Macintyre.”
A memory tugged at the back of my mind. A phone call from weeks ago and a request that Bob had shut down almost the moment it had been made.
“Charlie Macintyre?” I repeated.
“Yes.” She didn’t look particularly happy that I’d said her name aloud.
