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“Violet?”
Every muscle rigid, I waited for his touch. “Yes?”
“Is this what you’re looking for?” He grabbed my hand. The feel of something cool and hard against my palm made me blink. I looked up.
Doc grinned down at me, a twinkle in his eyes. In my hand, he’d placed a book titled,Lead—From Then to Now.
The flames in my stomach climbed up my neck and cheeks, undoubtedly branding the words,World’s Silliest Fool, on my forehead for all of Deadwood to see. “Uh, sure. Thanks.”
He nodded and stepped back, lounging on the edge of the table like he hadn’t just played yo-yo with my libido. “Shall we go to lunch before or after we see the house on Friday?”
I wanted to throw the frickin’ book at him, would have, too, if I didn’t want him to buy a stupid house through me. “I don’t care.”
“Then we’ll eat after.”
“Fine.” Yanking out a chair, I plopped down at the table and flipped open the book on Lead.
Doc had been spot-on, damn him. The pages were filled with “Then” and “Now” pictures of buildings in the old mining town. I gave him my best Clint Eastwood squint as he returned to his seat across the table from me.
“Is there something in your eye?” His grin still rounded his cheeks.
“No.” I flipped several more pages with an extra dose of attitude.
“Where are you going to lunch tomorrow with Jeff Wymonds?”
“I don’t know. He’s going to call me in the morning and tell me where to meet him.”
“I wish you’d let Harvey join you.”
“I’m a big girl. I can handle Jeff on my own.” That sounded tough. I just hoped I felt an iota of that gumption tomorrow when I sat across from Jeff and tried to stuff food down my throat while acting as if I wasn’t sharing a table with a serial kidnapper.
“Like you just handled me?”
That earned him another glare. “You’re different.”
“Thanks. You’re different for me, too.” The fervency in his dark gaze seized my attention for several breath-held seconds.
What exactly did he mean by that?
Instead of trying to pick his words apart and find meaning where there probably wasn’t any, I tugged my mind back to the task at hand—digging up tidbits on the Sugarloaf building.
“Mr. Harvey mentioned that you were trying to make a connection between the girl from Spearfish and the other three missing girls.”
“Harvey has a bucket mouth.” That came out surly, but I couldn’t help it. Doc’s teasing had left me grinding my teeth.
“I don’t know Harvey well enough yet to confirm that, but I do know something about Sherry Dobbler.”
His matter-of-fact tone made me look up from a page of Lead’s past.
“Her sister is a lifeguard.”
I frowned. Not exactly part of the same swim team, but still a water-related trade. It had potential as a link. “Did they mention that on the news?” If so, I’d missed it.
“No.”
“Then how do you know about Sherry’s sister?”
“Because she works weekends at the Rec Center. I’ve seen both her and Sherry there during open swim—many times.”
