Free From Boss to Bridegroom by Karen Kirst Page A

around the store, we’d be happy to help out.”
    â€œI’ll keep that in mind.”
    Glancing surreptitiously at Nicole, Kenneth tucked his purchase beneath his arm and left with his friend.
    Quinn approached, lightly touched her wrist. “Do you mind watching the store for a couple of minutes? I’ve an errand to see to.”
    â€œOf course not.”
    Out on the boardwalk, the intense midsummer heat immediately closed in. Boston hadn’t been nearly this humid. Wouldn’t be long before his skin was slick with perspiration and he wished he didn’t have to wear so many clothes.
    There was no sign of Kenneth. Striding in the direction of the jail, Quinn was relieved to find Shane behind his desk, seemingly free to talk.
    The man’s features lit with mild surprise and the paper he’d been perusing hit the desk. “Trouble at the mercantile?”
    â€œNo.” He gestured to the empty chair. “Do you have a moment? I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
    â€œHave a seat. What’s on your mind?”
    Dropping onto the unforgiving chair, he rested his ankle on his knee. “What can you tell me about Kenneth Jones?”
    He thought a moment. “Not much to tell. Like most folks in these mountains, his family farms the land. Decent, hardworking people. Regular churchgoers.” He tapped the desk surface. “Why do you ask?”
    Quinn explained about the job he’d hired Kenneth to do. The tension he’d picked up on.
    â€œYou aren’t aware of any romantic links or friendship between him and Nicole?”
    Shane huffed a laugh. “Afraid I can’t help you there. Keeping up with who courts who in this town is not in the job description.”
    Pushing to his feet, Quinn stalked to the barred window overlooking the street. While he recognized some of the passersby, he didn’t know their names, reputations or their histories. “I’m at a disadvantage here. It’s like trying to piece together a puzzle without first seeing the whole picture.”
    â€œAll I can tell you is Nicole isn’t one to frequent festivities. I can’t recall her name being linked with anyone. If she attends a church social or dance, it’s with her family.”
    Shoving aside the intense curiosity and twisted pleasure those statements evoked, Quinn turned. “To be clear, my motives for coming here are strictly professional.”
    The look Shane directed at him silently challenged that statement.
    â€œI’m concerned because she’s my assistant,” he persisted. “If she has a problem with a customer, I need to know about it.”
    The tapping on Shane’s desk increased. “Have you broached the matter with her?”
    â€œI did. She wasn’t forthcoming.”
    â€œMeaning, she denied there being a problem, and you don’t believe her.”
    â€œYes.”
    Shane slouched against the chair back. “Your only option then is to keep your eyes and ears open. You can’t force her to confide in you.”
    If only he could. He stuck out his hand. “Appreciate the help.”
    Standing to his feet, the sheriff shook his hand. “I know how it feels to be the new man in town. Takes time, but eventually folks will open up to you.”
    Thanking the other man and feeling as if he’d made a trustworthy friend, he returned to the store in time to lock up and flip the sign to closed. When he spotted Nicole hunched over a small book and scribbling furiously, Quinn’s gut tightened. He knew exactly what he’d see at her feet.
    Acting as if nothing were amiss, he strolled past and headed into the office, suspicion burning his mouth like acid. For several days, he’d watched her surreptitiously place items in a large basket that she endeavored to keep hidden from him. It appeared his assistant was keeping more than one secret.
    Was it possible she had been stealing from Emmett? The