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He swallowed a grin. Confrontational seemed to be her middle name, but apparently, she was holding out an olive branch. To pick his brain? Coerce him into…what…helping her?
“Dana it is,” he nodded. “Will that get me an answer to my question?”
She frowned. “I’m sorry. What was it you asked?”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, the soft drink bottle dangling from his hands. “I asked what this plan of yours is really all about. I get a sense here this is more than a writing project for you.”
She lowered her eyes again, shielding whatever expression they held. “You know what I do, Sheriff. I select an unsolved crime that interests me, do the research, and write the book. That’s not very complicated.”
He pulled out what he’d been told was his knock-your-socks-off smile, hoping to lighten the tension filling the air. “Cole.”
“Excuse me?”
“If you’re Dana, I’m Cole.” He leaned back, making his posture less threatening, and he could see her shoulders relax minimally. “So, Dana, what’s the deal? Writers researching a story don’t usually rent a house and put down roots, no matter how temporary they might be. They rent a motel or hotel with maid service, so they don’t have to think about anything but the book.”
One corner of her mouth lifted. “Have you ever seen the fake cowhide bedspreads at the High Ridge Motel? Or tried relaxing in one of their rooms? I need to feel comfortable when I work.”
“Let’s say I buy that. There’s still something in your attitude that tells me this is more than a story to you. So give it up. What’s the deal?”
She was silent for so long he wasn’t sure she planned to answer him. Then she sighed, took a long swallow of her drink, and set the glass on the little table next to the chair.
“I think the worst crimes committed are those against children,” she said at last, speaking slowly and deliberately. “They’re the most defenseless people. The most vulnerable. And the most trusting. People who…injure them betray that trust. I think whoever did this to the children of High Ridge has been able to hide long enough. If I can find answers, maybe everyone can finally get some peace.”
“All right. If that’s your story.” He lifted his bottle to his lips, looking at her over the length of it. “But remember, when you start to dig up secrets, sooner or later, all of them come to the surface. Even the ones you want to hide.”
Did her face pale a little? Was that a tightening of her body?
He wished she’d put on something a little different to wear. Like body armor or chain mail. The soft fabric of her T-shirt, even as big as it was, draped lovingly against her breasts. The outline of her nipples, which he could see without any problem at all, told him she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath it. Her shorts came down to the midpoint of her thighs, but they were loose, and even in her tightly curled position he could get a tiny glimpse of the tempting bits of flesh they covered.
Suddenly, an image of her naked flashed across his brain. Temptingly spread-eagled on cool, crisp sheets. Breasts full and pointing. Pubic curls covering a pussy that he wanted to plunge his cock right into. Inner thighs glistening with the juices of her arousal.
He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them. Thank God her voice interrupted his X-rated reverie.
“I don’t know what ulterior motives you think I have,” she told him, straightening in her chair. “I just want to do a thorough job.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “By the way, I noticed something today when I was looking at those old reports. All of the…bodies were found somewhere near where they were originally taken. Don’t you wonder how he could have managed that if he was just some itinerant? He’d have to know how and when to get in without being seen.”
Cole frowned. Maybe he should have read the reports himself. “You’re very thorough.”
“I was hoping, after I’ve had a chance to analyze my notes, I could steal some of your time to ask you questions.”
Okay. He’d play along.
“I think that can be arranged, although I’m not sure what I can tell you.” He took a long swallow of his drink. “I assume you’re planning to talk to the parents?”
She nodded. “The ones that are still around here.” Her eyes challenged him. “Don’t worry, I know how to be sensitive and circumspect.”
“I’m sure you do.”
She pushed herself up from her chair. “I appreciate you bringing my phone to me, but I do need to get to work.”
“No problem.” He unfolded himself from the couch. “I’ll just stick this bottle in the kitchen.”
“That’s all right. I’ll take it.”
She reached for it at the same time he moved to hand it to her, and the skin to skin contact nearly fried him. Again, she startled him by jerking away and moving back two steps. Her hands shook as she opened the door.
When he moved aside, he was standing so close he felt her breath on his skin. An idiotic impulse seized him, and before he knew it, he did the dumbest thing ever. He lifted his hands to cup her face, thumbs stroking her high cheekbones, and very gently lowered his mouth to hers.
She was stiffer than a board, her mouth unresponsive. The hand holding the bottle popped up, and for a moment, he was afraid she’d hit him with it. But he didn’t retreat nor did he increase the pressure on her lips. One of his hands slid easily down her back and cupped her ass, firm beneath the thin material of her shorts. She relaxed under his touch, her lips softened, her body hummed with silent vibration, and his erection gained a mind of its own.
