Free Nice & Naughty by Tawny Weber Page B

it.
    And it was frustrating the hell out of him. You’d think he’d be used to it. He figured people slamming doors in his face, shooting at him and, on one memorable occasion, trying to run him over were all part of the job description. But this was different. These weren’t criminals, they were nice, run-of-the-mill citizens. Who wouldn’t talk to him.
    Diego shoved his fists in the pockets of his jacket as two more of those nice, run-of-the-mill citizens crossed to the other side of the street when he passed. Like, what? He had out-of-towner cooties? Or maybe they thought he’d shoot them. Typical small-town close-mindedness, he sneered. The same kind he’d seen over and over as a kid.
    And just like when he’d been a kid, he was stuck here until some official deemed him good enough to move on.
    Diego gritted his teeth so hard, he hoped this Podunk town had a dentist. He was gonna need one before the end of the week.
    How the hell was he supposed to get information if he had to wear kid gloves? He wasn’t a kid-glove kind of cop, dammit. He felt both blindfolded and hamstrung. There was no way he was going to make progress playing nice.
    He kicked a rock out of his path. A woman on the opposite sidewalk gathered her kid close, as if he’d kick it next.
    He was seriously starting to hate this town.
    Except for the sexy pixie. For her, he had some solid nonhate feelings brewing. But like his tried-and-true methods of solving a case, she was off-limits. Because she didn’t just play nice, she was nice.
    He wondered how deep that layer of nice went. Was it a surface thing? Or was she nice through and through? He had a feeling—mostly brought on by his body’s intense reaction to her—that there was something naughty going on beneath the surface.
    The question was...how naughty?
    “Naked before the third date” naughty?
    Or “whipped-cream bikini” naughty?
    He thought about the pair of tiny black silk panties he’d fondled twice now. His body stirred, hardening in salute to the memory. A woman who wore black silk with tiny red roses? She might be convinced to try on some whipped cream.
    Grinning at the prospect, Diego was a heartbeat away from convincing himself that pursuing the sexy pixie wouldn’t have any effect on his ability to solve this case. Or more important, to solve it by Kinnison’s stupid rules.
    “Detective.”
    Glancing over his shoulder at the greeting, Diego slowed his pace to a halt. Then, with a barely discernible sigh, he came to attention.
    “Sir,” Diego greeted when the older man reached his side. “I’d planned to find you this afternoon to discuss the case.”
    “Great minds, and all that,” Mayor Applebaum said, gesturing for Diego to continue his walk. The older man took control of the direction, though, heading for the park. And, Diego noted as they passed a few more wary citizens, some semblance of privacy.
    “So, how is your investigation going?” the mayor asked as they reached the grassy area.
    Diego debated. Then, with his usual tact, he stated, “It’s sucking. Sir.”
    Applebaum’s lips twitched as he gave a slow, contemplative nod. He looked around as if the bench choices were of prime importance before settling himself on the one in the sunshine.
    And waited.
    Diego sighed. Realizing he had no choice, he dropped to the bench, too.
    “I’ve had a few phone calls this morning, Detective.”
    Shit. He’d been on his best behavior. He hadn’t intimidated a single person. So why were they whining?
    “Sir?”
    “People are a little put out that I’d bring an investigator in for what most see as a joke.”
    “Yep.” Diego nodded. “I can understand their position.” Applebaum didn’t bother to hold back the grin this time.
    “Still, it’s my decision to make. I want this solved. The prank element doesn’t bother me. But there is a meanness involved here, son. Oh, sure, a lot of folks think it’s innocent enough. But for the ones with their