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This time, though, I actually wanted to look the part. Like a teenager, I spent an hour throwing on different articles of clothing, analyzing every fold and wrinkle that shifted on my body. Sicily had to come in just to calm me down, and eventually, with her help, I settled on a simple, long-sleeved, blue dress I’d sewn last month, finding an old necklace and earring set to go with it.
Even with the preparation, though, all I felt was dread as the meeting came nearer. For a while I’d tried to argue with Dean, pleading with him to convince Skye to meet us at the police station instead, but I was surprised to see that he wouldn’t budge. He wouldn’t evenaskher, which had kept the tension between us high all the way until we reached the restaurant.
Once there, Dean led us inside.
Unintentionally, I found myself hiding behind him as we walked into the chandelier-lit foyer, my fingers fussing at the stray strands of hair on my scalp. He smiled at the host, charming as ever, and eventually we were directed to a table where a single woman sat. She was full-bodied and beautiful, with light brown skin and matching honey-colored hair curled around her shoulders. Her eyes had that same severity Dean’s did when he was on a case, except that severity seemed to be a permanent fixture as her gaze eventually landed on us. The dread in my stomach increased. If this was Dean’s daughter, her mother must have been a bombshell. Not that I cared if his ex was a bombshell, because I didn’t. Not to mention the fact that I was perfectly comfortable with my own self—not too many people sported red hair and green eyes.
And pasty white skin,I reminded myself with a gulp I hoped wasn’t audible.
Not that it mattered,I thought again.Dean and I are just work buddies, trying to figure out the Thatcher house fire. That’s where we start and where we end.
The one thing that eased my stress, ironically, was how tense Dean seemed to be as we approached his daughter. He was walking stock-straight, eyes forward yet not meeting Skye’s with any warmth. She frowned when we got to the table and only glanced at the two other plates that were set in front of her as a signal for us to sit.
“Hey, Skye.” Dean was the first to break the silence, trying for a tight, unhopeful smile. Skye didn’t return it, instead instantly transferring her attention to me.
“Wow.” Her voice was dry, drawn out like a sigh. “So, this is who you ended up with… this time?”
Dean’s face paled. “What?”
“I figured you’d find someone new… once you settled into that hick town.” Skye picked at an already-ordered salad in front of her and gave me another side eye. “Guess the pickin’s are slim in bumpkin territory.”
She stared right at me as she said that last bit and I could feel the air shift around me. Internally I was squirming, worms of stress writhing in my stomach, but on the outside, I smiled. Karen 2.0 had arrived, it seemed, but I wasn’t going to let her get under my skin.
“Your father and I are just work colleagues,” I managed. Skye raised her brows at that, but didn’t say anything. “But I appreciate your friendly introduction, all the same.”
Dean cleared his throat, throwing me a look of intent, but I ignored him. If he thought I was gonna let some twenty-something talk to me that way, well, he should have thought twice before bringing me. “I shouldn’t assume this is how you greet everyone, right?”
“I think it’s appropriate.” Skye sniffed and daintily put a forkful of leaves into her mouth, taking her time to chew and swallow before continuing. “You’d act the same if your dad walked into a restaurant with a woman closer to your age than his. I’m sure Mom’ll get akickout of that, huh, Dad?”
I blinked, and then my face broke into a very, very wide grin. “Sweetheart, I know you didn’t intend that as a compliment, but even so… I’m forty. So tone your friendliness down a notch.”
To my surprise, Dean’s face fell flat, and he actually leaned towards her, looking annoyed. “You can tell your mother whatever the hell you want to, Skye, but you’re going to keep the details of this case private.” Skye cocked her head to the side and then snickered, like this was all a big joke. Dean’s scowl was decidedly more pronounced. “I didn’t ask you to come here to trade blows, we have actualworkwe need to accomplish.”
Skye’s cheeks puffed out as if she was biting back a response, but instead she simply nodded, looking away as the waiters brought us our menus and we ordered. I continued to watch her as we waited for our food to arrive. She wouldn’t look at her father when she spoke, and any small talk was devoid of any kindness one would expect between a father and daughter. There was bad blood between them, that was for sure, which threw brand new interest into this secret past of his. As far as I knew, Dean was a kind man, so I wasn’t sure where the surliness from Skye was coming from. She seemed touchy, snide, but in her quieter moments I could feel a touch of sadness that was difficult to place.
What was more, Dean hadn’t corrected her when she assumed we were dating—I had. And that was a bucket of worms I wasnotprepared to unpack.
Our food arrived and after a few minutes of silence Skye looked up from her plate, switching to a less hostile, yet still serious expression. “So. You’re here about an arson case in the boonies?”
“In themountains,yes.” My mouth thinned but I tried to push past it. “Your father and I are working on a missing person’s case and found a house scorched some miles off from Windy Ridge.”
Skye raised a brow at me, and that belittling, little smile was back in full effect. “And who areyou?Deputy-in-training?”
My jaw tightened, and when I grinned, I found it difficult to resist jutting out my fangs. But I had a secret to keep and a town to protect so I didn’t. But I wanted to. “More like the town guard. And I probably have more experience than someone who just got out of college.”
“Twila knows the area better than I do, Skye,” Dean pressed, giving me a quick nod. “And whatever I know or find out, I’m going to tell her anyway, so you can share any information with both of us.”
“Whatever you say, pops.” Skye shifted to put a chin on her fist, gesturing to us as if we were already boring her. “Tell me about what you found.”
“Almost all of the furniture inside the bedroom of the house was reduced to ash with the exception of the bed, and there were no tracks leading in or out of the house.” Dean reached down, clicking open the briefcase he’d brought with him. He tossed a manila envelope Skye’s way, and I could see that he’d gotten the photos of the crime scene printed, likely for more confidential handling. “We found alcohol bottles in the bathroom, but they were empty and intact, we’ve already crossed the fireplace off the list as the source of the flames.”
“We figured the starting point as well as the main area of the fire was the bedroom,” I added. Skye glanced up at me, flicking through the photos one by one.
“Why’s that?”
“Big hole in the wall of the back of the house.” I shuffled the photos and tapped the one depicting it. “Led right to the bed.”
Skye hummed and scanned over the pictures, taking one or two from the pile and comparing them before switching through them again. “Other than the bottles,” she started after a moment, “did you find any broken glass anywhere? Cigarettes, cigars? Anything that could have started it?”
