Free Hotshot by Catherine Mann

“You actually want to spend more time with me?”
    She set her inner lie detector on high sensitivity and waited.
    “Like I said, I’m here to help.” He looked left, then right, giving her a clear view of the dot on one of his ear-lobes where his piercing had closed. He used to wear a small silver hoop in the old days. “It doesn’t appear you’re in any position to turn down an extra set of hands.”
    He had her there. And when it came to these kids, she would do anything for them. Her lie detector didn’t catch anything but truth, although no question, he’d only told her a fraction of the story.
    “Okay then. Let’s put those muscles to work. But I’m warning you, the air conditioner barely works, and those oversized fans are noisy.”
    She guided him past the outside basketball court where Eli was cursing as he climbed up the post to replace the broken chain net. “That’s our activities director and resident basketball champ.”
    Vince eyed the guy with blond dreadlocks and a sunburn. “I never knew Lake Erie attracted surfers.”
    “His look appeals to the kids.” Sure, she was babbling, but it beat awkward silences. Or talk about her lingerie. “I’m the caterer for these events, and our social worker, Angeline, parks herself inside at the welcome desk where she can rest her feet. Her husband helps, too, if you can call watching ball games on his portable TV chaperoning. Parent volunteers are tough to come by, but luckily we have a few diehards who are willing to pull shifts.”
    His footsteps echoed behind her, biker boots heavy on concrete. She rushed past the Dumpster toward the back entrance, working like crazy to block out the memory of finding the college volunteer’s and Kevin’s bodies sprawled and bloody.
    Once she cleared the door, she could breathe well enough to speak again. “How did you know about these weekly shindigs?”
    He pointed toward the billboard on the wall. “I saw your flyer posted when I was in here last time.”
    Music drifted down the corridor from the DJ running a sound check. “With everything going on—a robbery, two stabbings, and police statements—you can’t possibly have had time to read over the clinic’s calendar.”
    “I’m an observant guy who likes to do his civic duty. I wear a uniform, remember?”
    Just like the one her dad used to wear.
    Her arms clenched tighter around the chips. “Where are you stationed these days?”
    “Nellis Air Force Base outside of Las Vegas.”
    “What happens in Vegas . . .” She forced her grip to slacken before she turned the snacks to crumbs. “Vince, let’s quit with this polite chitchat. I’ve got enough on my mind with a murderer running around on the loose. Straight up, why are you really here?”
    “Can’t get anything past you, can I?” He turned sideways to make room for a janitor rolling a stack of chairs. “Your father is worried about you after the murders outside the clinic, so I volunteered to hang with you for a while, check things out, and do some good for the community at the same time.”
    Her father again?
    More likely Vince was making excuses for her dad, based on how he’d defended Don back at her apartment. The men in uniform always did stick together.
    And, oh joy, if Vince was half as committed to pleasing her father as he’d been before, she would have a full-time job prying his butt out of the center, a problem that would have to wait until after the gathering, since she had her hands full with the normal neighborhood problems. Like kids wanting to kill each other rather than share the same pizza.
    She gestured to the line of tables covered in butcher paper. “You can put those over there.”
    “Shay?” he said, voice carrying even above the roar of the oversized fans.
    “The faster we can get these unloaded, the sooner I can make sure nobody’s slipping something in the drinks.”
    “Shay,” he said again, more insistent this time.
    She forced herself to meet his gaze