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I looked at Doc. God, I hoped Harvey didn’t get it in his stubborn brain to go exploring up there on his own. Bessie by his side or not.
“Violet, what?”
I debated on telling him about the noises and deer, but logic weighed in and I decided against it. It was probably just a cougar. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”
My eyes returned to the map, and I noticed something else. “I didn’t realize there was a cemetery out by Harvey’s place.” I glanced at theRegister of Deaths, putting two and two together, and then looked up at Doc. “What exactly do you do for a living, Mr. Nyce?”
He raised his gaze from the map, his long black lashes close enough for me to count, his eyes hooded. “Make an appointment with me and see for yourself, Ms. Parker.”
“Are you always this secretive?”
“More often than not.”
“When can you fit me in?” For what, I had no idea, but I was tired of trying to listen through walls, wondering what was going on in the office next door.
“I’m open Friday.”
Friday.
“Oh, yeah.” I blinked back into real estate agent mode. “That reminds me. Mona has a house in the Presidential district coming on the market. Are you available Friday around noon?”
“I think so. Let me take you to lunch afterward.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“Because.”
Two could play this ambiguity game of his. I strolled over to a bookshelf full of South Dakota-related titles. “I might be busy. I’ll have to check my daytimer.”
A glance Doc’s way showed his eyes still on me. I ran my fingers along a row of book spines. “Now where would I find a book on historic buildings in Lead?”
“I saw your daytimer when it fell out of your purse today, Violet.” His chair scraped on the floor. “It has a lot of white space in it.”
Damn him for noticing. “I do have a date that evening.”
“With your secret admirer, I know.”
I pulled out a book called,The Merry Days of Leadand flipped through pages filled with a lot of print and very few pictures. “If I say ‘yes’ to lunch, will you come clean?”
Footfalls behind me made the floor creak. “What makes you think I’m dirty?”
I gulped as his breath warmed the back of my neck. I was playing with matches—but lighting them with Doc was so intoxicating. “I can see it in your eyes.”
“What else can you see?”
That sounded like a dare. I turned. The objects in question were very close. The musky aroma of his aftershave lured me even closer. I locked my knees. “You’re hiding something.”
“I’m hiding a lot of things.” He placed both hands on the bookshelf behind me, imprisoning me.
Oh, shit. “Like what?”
“There’s no fun in telling.” He lowered his head.
He was too close! Warning alarms whooped in my head. The matches I’d been playing with caught fire low in my belly, flaring white hot. I dropped my gaze to the center of his chest, staring at the cotton weave on his dark blue T-shirt.
“I’d rather show you,” he whispered, his lips hovering near my ear.
“Oh.” It came out as a croak as I struggled to breathe.
