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Did Mr. FBI ever relax? They were in a small town diner, formalities weren’t necessary.
“Breakfast?”
He shook his head.
She didn’t like the look he was giving her. There was something proprietary in his hazel eyes. As if he was the lion and she was the dumb gazelle who’d wandered away from the herd.
She might be small town, but she wasn’t naïve. He gave off the vibe that he was attracted to her, which put her on high alert. Her attraction to him notwithstanding, men like him didn’t spare more than a glance and a tip for girls like her.
Mr. FBI was up to something. They’d met all of three times and the first one didn’t count. He’d come to Haleswood to apprehend a criminal and Heather had been part of the crowd watching the whole thing from across the street.
Of course, the whole town knew he’d dropped in on the Morris family Christmas Eve dinner. Playing along, she leaned forward, bracing her elbows on the counter. “Then what is it I can do for you, Special Agent?” She put extra emphasis on the “special.” Being so close, she noticed the gold flecks in his unique hazel eyes.
“Dale,” he corrected. “I came to ask you to dinner.”
Was this a joke? She struggled not to jerk back from him, to keep her voice light and flirty. “Tonight?”
“I realize it’s short notice.”
“Maybe I have plans.”
His eyebrows knit together as if he hadn’t considered the possibility of her social calendar. It pissed her off. Immensely. But she kept that smile in place. The unflappable, sturdy curve of her lips had seen her through rough moments as a waitress and as a volunteer at the county animal shelter.
“If you do, I’m hoping you’ll change them for me.”
“Huh.” She pushed back from the counter, pretending to think it over. His body language said date, but his voice remained serious. Did he ever let his guard down? “Where do you want to take me?” She rubbed the edge of her apron across a clean spot on her side of the counter.
“There’s a new sushi bar in Columbia. I made reservations.”
“Sushi?” She could get her fill of excellent sushi without a reservation at the place just around the corner. Of course, the serious, handsome companion would be missing from that scenario.
She was tempted to string him along for another minute or two, for the benefit of their rapt audience, when her brother walked in, glaring at Mr. FBI’s back. Sheriff Cochran must have told him she had a visitor. As if she couldn’t take care of herself with a man. In a public venue.
The irritation only proved she’d never get any respect for her independence if she stuck it out in Haleswood. She leaned across the counter and ran a finger down the perfect, full Windsor knot of Mr. FBI’s tie. “I had plans.” To volunteer at the shelter, but she could rearrange that. “But I’ll change them. For you. I accept.”
His eyes flashed and she got the impression she’d just accepted far more than a dinner date. Good. She was tired of watching a small group of people get away with illegal activity. By her calculations there would be another fight in the next day or two. Granted, patience wasn’t something she considered part of her skill set, but it was way past time Mr. FBI took her concerns seriously. Serious was his M.O. after all.
Heather’s brother scowled at her. “Hey,” she said, without moving away from Mr. FBI. “Do you need another coffee or are you hungry again?”
“Coffee,” he said.
She saw the tic in his jaw and would’ve knocked it off his face under normal circumstances. As she poured coffee everyone knew her brother didn’t need, she sent a sly glance to Mr. FBI. “What time should I be ready?”
***
Dale dealt in facts. Not theory. Not speculation. Not random hunches. Facts. That was how any law officer proceeded or charges would never become formal, would never go to court, and would never result in convictions.
Right now, he knew for a fact he would live to regret this decision.
He studied Heather for a long moment. She knew how to keep her cool. That was the first hurdle and a good sign. He hoped she’d remain as strong through the bigger challenges they would soon encounter.
“I’ll pick you up at six.”
“That works,” she replied, handing a tall to-go cup with the Midnight Rooster logo to her brother.
“That will give us plenty of time for the drive.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
