Free Buried Sins by Marta Perry

Caroline, also busy with a customer. Her face was animated as she displayed a bracelet, draping it across her wrist.
    His gut tightened at the thought of those bruises on her right wrist. Nobody should treat a woman that way. On the other hand, could he believe her account of how it had happened? He wasn’t sure, and until he was, until he knew for sure she wasn’t involved in something criminal, he’d tread carefully where Caroline was concerned.
    He’d expected to hear something from that Santa Fe PD by now about the sketch he’d faxed them, but so far they’d been silent. His request was probably pretty far down on their priority list.
    As he neared the stand, he realized that the person she was talking to was that photographer, Tenley. Interesting that the guy was still around. Something about him hadn’t quite rung true from the first time Zach saw him.
    Zach picked up one of Karen’s baskets and turned it over in his hands, trying to separate their conversation from the buzz of talk that surrounded them.
    From what he could make out, Tenley was intent on asking her out, and Caroline was equally intent on selling him something. It seemed to be a bit of a stand-off.
    “Are you planning to buy a basket today?” Karen turned to him as her customer moved off, dangling a bag containing one of her smaller items.
    “Why would I do that, when you keep giving them to me? If you want your family to buy, you’ll have to stop being so generous.”
    “Small chance of that,” Karen said. “You have a birthday coming up, don’t you? What kind of basket would you like?”
    Caroline, seeming to overhear, turned to smile at his sister. “That’s what it is to be related to a crafter. As far as I can tell, my sisters like my jewelry, but they could hardly tell me anything else, could they?”
    “Of course they like it,” Tenley put in quickly. “Your adaptation of Zuni designs is inspired. As a matter of fact, I’ll take the bracelet for my sister’s birthday.”
    “Excellent.” Caroline beamed. “I’ll gift wrap it for you.”
    “You seem to know a lot about Southwestern design.” Zach leaned against the table. “You spend some time out there?”
    Tenley looked startled at the direct question, but then he tapped his camera. “My work takes me all over the place. I know enough about Zuni art to appreciate it.” He turned quickly back to Caroline, pulling out his wallet. “Don’t bother to gift wrap it. I’ll take it as it is.”
    In a moment he’d paid, claimed his package and moved off. Frowning, Caroline turned to Zach.
    “You just scared off a customer. I might have been able to sell him something else.”
    He shrugged. “If someone’s scared of the police, it’s usually because they have something to hide.”
    Her reaction to that might have been invisible to anyone else, but not to him. He was looking for it, and he saw it—that faint withdrawal as muscles tightened, the slightest darkening of those clear green eyes. Caroline took that personally. That meant she had reason to do so.
    And that meant he should do the thing he’d been putting off for days—run a check on her and find out just what it was about her past she wanted to hide.
    “Caroline, here’s just the person you should talk with about your quilt.” Karen’s voice had both of them jerking toward her. His reaction was mild annoyance, but he suspected Caroline’s was relief.
    The annoyance deepened when he found Agatha Morris and her son Keith standing behind him. He jerked a nod. “Mrs. Morris. Mayor. Enjoying the show?”
    Agatha gave him an icy nod before turning to Caroline. With her iron-gray hair worn in a style reminiscent of Queen Elizabeth, her sensible shoes and the flowered dresses she wore whatever the season, Agatha was a formidable figure. “I understand you’re Katherine Unger’s granddaughter.” The words sounded faintly accusing.
    Caroline smiled, extending her hand. “I’m Caroline Hampton.”
    Agatha