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Without a word, he settled into the driver’s seat and put the car in gear. The awkward level inched up as he headed out of town until she finally couldn’t take anymore.
“Where are we headed?”
He kept his gaze on the two-lane road stretched out ahead of them. “Columbia. Sushi.”
“But I thought—”
“You thought I was just trying to get you alone so we could discuss the thumb drive you dumped in my lap.”
“Yes.” She wasn’t offended. Couldn’t afford to be. She needed his help to protect her friend as well as the animals from the terrible dogfighting ring touring the state parks.
As far as she could tell, no one else even suspected the truth. It wasn’t on the news, not even after she’d called in an anonymous tip.
“When we get there,” he said, pulling her out of her thoughts, “play along with whatever happens.”
“Meaning?” She watched his long fingers grip the steering wheel before sliding down the curve. To her shock, he reached over and touched her hand.
His palm was warm and firm as it engulfed hers. Her heart stuttered and she ruthlessly reminded it there was nothing remotely personal going on. This was an act.
A little voice in her head pointed out they were alone in the car, but she ignored it. The gesture was a test, a reminder to stay in character.
“You fell right in with my ploy at the Rooster today,” he said, confirming her thoughts.
“And paid the price.”
“What do you mean? Did your brother give you grief?”
“J.C.? No. But every woman in the establishment asked me about it and then told a friend. Soon every woman in town was pestering me, wanting to know our intentions.”
“Our intentions?”
She laughed at his echo. “Consider it the community take on the ‘what are your intentions with my daughter’ question.”
“No way.”
“Way. I’ve gotten used to it. The whole family has been expecting me to crack since my dad got sick and died.”
“But you’re always smiling.”
“Dad said it was my best feature.” It was all the explanation she wanted to give right now. “Maybe a desire for details is more accurate than asking after our intentions,” she said trying to get the conversation back on the pertinent reason they were playing any game at all. “They wanted to know how long you and I had been looking at each other that way.”
“That way?”
“The way you looked at me across the counter turned heads.” And not only her own. “You knew it would.”
He cleared his throat. “Yes, I did. Thanks for reacting the right way. Just do the same sort of thing tonight. Whatever happens.”
What did he have in mind? “Is someone involved with this dogfighting ring planning to be at the restaurant?” That would explain his last-minute timing. “What have you found out?”
“Nothing definitive. Tonight is just the two of us having dinner. We’ll have to wait and see where it leads.” His mouth tipped into a faint smile and he gave her fingers a squeeze before releasing her hand.
The schoolgirl urge to never wash it again irritated her. “That’s a loaded suggestion,” she muttered.
“Well it was a loaded file. Why did you dump it on me?”
“It’s a corruption issue, something the FBI is supposed to handle.” She was a little disappointed he hadn’t seen what she’d seen in the data. But with the recent escalation in dogfight nights, she didn’t think wasting time arguing about what he should know was the right thing to do. She needed to convince him to take action. Now rather than later. “And I suspect someone in the Haleswood Sheriff’s Department is or has been involved.”
“It’s a small department.”
