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Obviously Rupert Crowley. “You don’t have concrete proof that our Sean is your Sean.”

His barking laugh filled the room. “I’m going to let you in on a trade secret, my dear Ms. Sweet. When you’re as close to your subject as I am, you don’t need concrete proof. You just know.”

“What even led you to Salvation?”

“The grace of God?” He laughed at his own joke. “Or in this case a tip from someone at the brewery.”

“Carl Brennan?” That would explain the verbal swipes Carl had made at Sean the other day. She’d meant to follow up with him, but had gotten distracted. That seemed to happen a lot around Sean whenever she pressed him for answers.

He shifted in his seat. “I never reveal my sources.”

“This whole conversation is ridiculous.” She stood and walked around her desk toward the door. “I’ll go get Sean and you’ll see how wrong you are.”

“No.” His hand clapped around her wrist. “Not yet. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention our little conversation until I speak to him first. After all, if by some slim chance it’s not the right Sean, well, there’s no harm in keeping it our little secret.”

She shook him off. “I don’t think—”

“Twenty–four hours, Ms. Sweet.” Desperation leaked into the words. “Can you give me that?”

Sean watched the deputy’s cruiser disappear around the bend in the road connecting the Sweet Salvation Brewery to the main highway. As he’d suspected, Carl was cooling his heels in the county lockup without bail, which meant they were back to square one when it came to figuring out who was fucking with the brewery.

Looked like Natalie was going to get that late–night stakeout she’d planned. At least she already had a flowchart worked up for it. He grinned to himself. He may have run screaming from her clipboard before, but the damn thing with her different–colored pens had grown on him—just like Natalie.

Suddenly he couldn’t wait to see her again and it had nothing to do with the brewery. Time to track his naughty librarian down. He yanked the door open and strode through the tasting room to the offices in back.

Without bothering to knock, Sean opened Natalie’s door and strolled in. “We need to talk.” He made it half a step before jamming to a stop.

Hailey stood behind Natalie’s desk, her fingers on the computer keyboard. She jerked up and slapped a hand over her heart. “Sean!” She took in a shaky breath. “You scared me. With everything going on around here, you shouldn’t be busting in on people.”

“Sorry, I needed to talk to Natalie.”

Hailey grinned. “What a coincidence, she’s waiting for you in your office.”

Couldn’t wait to see him, huh? That was just the kind of good news he needed after the past hour. “Great.” He pivoted and had one foot in the hallway when he pulled up short. “Can I help you with something?”

The office manager was already hunched back over Natalie’s computer. “Unless you can perform magic and revive my printer from the dead, I’m stuck using Natalie’s printer until the new one is delivered.”

“Left my wand at home today.”

“Isn’t that always the case?” She shook her head. “By the way, what’s going on with you and Natalie?”

Nothing. Everything. Something weird in–between that could turn into more. “Not sure.”

“Better figure it out soon. I don’t think she’s the type who waits around.” She hit a button on Natalie’s keyboard and the printer hummed to life.

“Ain’t that the truth?” He tipped his baseball cap and hustled down the hall to his office.

For the past fourteen minutes and thirty–three seconds, Natalie had ignored the papers laid willy–nilly on the filing cabinet, the two Styrofoam coffee cups stacked on the corner of Sean’s desk and the copy of her twenty–five–point plan flipped over so only the back page showed. The longer she sat waiting, the more pissed she became, but what she needed to say had to be said behind closed doors. If she walked out that door she’d make a scene, and that couldn’t happen.

She made plans and charts to avoid that ever happening again. Being in control wasn’t just important, it was everything.

“Hey there.” Sean strolled in, tension apparent in his high–perched shoulders, but some of it leaked out as he walked in and saw her.

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Hers, on the other hand, ratcheted up. “Close the door.”

“It’s that kind of meeting, huh?” He raised his eyebrows and winked. The door clicked shut behind him.

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