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Without another word, Constance gets to her feet, grabbing her jacket as she goes, her eyes still glued to the car.
“Constance—”
She’s out the door before I can say more.
“You should probably follow her,” Kate suggests from behind the counter.
I take the redhead’s word as gospel and rush out of the shop after Constance.
Constance strides across the street on her long legs with an innate grace, holding her head high. I follow, scrambling to catch up with her.
She freezes at the back of the Mustang and points at the license plate. “Temporary tags.”
Sure enough, there’s a paper plate where a metal one should be.
“Brand new,” Constance says. “Don’t you think that’s odd, Sheriff?”
Our eyes meet.
“That Harvey Collins is a witness to a crime and then has a new car?” I ask. “I fail to see a correlation there.”
Harvey emerges from the bank.
Constance stands tall, pulling on her coat lapels. “Follow my lead.”
I reach out to grab her arm. “Constance, wait?—”
Before I can stop her, Constance walks straight up to Harvey Collins.
Oh no.
9
Constance
Rory is right. The correlation is vague at best. But there’s a feeling in my gut I can’t ignore. I don’t get gut feelings often, so when I do, I know I have to push myself to follow the instinct.
“Harvey,” I call out to the handyman as I go toward him.
His eyes shoot to me. “Constance! Good to see...” There’s a momentary hiccup in his speech as his eyes travel to Rory behind me. “And Sheriff McEvoy.” His smile twitches at the corner. “Good morning.”
Rory sidles up to me. “Morning, Mr. Collins.”
“What can I do for you?” Harvey says.
“I wanted to know if you could stop by and hang a few banners I want to put up for the Bicentennial,” I say.
Rory does a double take in my direction, which I ignore. If he dares rub in my face that he offered just yesterday and I refused, I’ll step on his toe. Or I’ll at least think about stepping on his toe.
“I’d be happy to,” Harvey says in his quintessential friendly-old-man way. “I can head there right now.”
“I won’t be by until a bit later today, I’m doing some work with Sheriff McEvoy and?—”
Harvey swirls his hand in the air. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a key.”
My eyes widen. Hedoeshave a key, doesn’t he?
“You’ve got a key to the museum?” Rory asks, leaning in slightly.
