prove he still had the cop chops? That Dix hadn’t recommended him for the job of chief because he thought he wasn’t good enough for street work?
He shoved those doubts aside. “Busy day.”
“Definitely not the usual routine,” Tom said. “What did you want to ask us?”
“The accident earlier today. Trooper on scene said he thinks they were searching for shell casings. You find any gunshot wounds on your victim?”
The medics exchanged surprised glances. “No. No way,” they said, in unison.
Gordon nodded. “Didn’t think you’d have missed it.”
“Well,” Dave said, stirring his coffee. “Even if we did, the M.E. wouldn’t have found it until after we got him to the morgue. I’m thinking the troopers would have been long gone by the time that happened.”
“I’ll ask, but I’m sure you’re right.” Gordon lifted his mug and inhaled deeply before taking a sip.
“You know,” Tom said. “We could rig an IV to get the caffeine directly into your bloodstream.”
“You saying I drink too much coffee?” Gordon asked.
“Afraid I’ll have to vote with Tom on that one.” Angie’s voice carried across the room. “Ready for a refill?” She was already ambling across the diner, coffee pot in hand.
“Maybe top it off,” he said. Dave and Tom slid their mugs closer. Angie filled each in turn, no wasted motion, no wasted coffee. Very little about her was wasted, he thought. Short blonde hair, no makeup other than some light gloss on her lips. No polish on her trimmed nails. She wore jeans and a Daily Bread t-shirt. Her scent was her own—she didn’t wear perfume because she didn’t want it to clash with the food she served.
And why was he noticing her scent? Or wondering if her hair looked the same when she woke up in the morning. He realized he’d held her gaze longer than necessary. Breaking the connection, he nudged the filled mugs to the medics.
“Sorry I wasn’t here when you got in, guys,” she said, apparently oblivious to his ogling. “Ozzie take your orders?”
The three men nodded. “They should be coming up, then. I’ll check.” She half turned, then swiveled and leaned over the table. “Can you tell me what happened to Megan? I was over there, and she says she can’t remember.”
“Not unusual,” Tom said. “Her injuries weren’t bad, but she might be suppressing the event itself. Temporary memory loss happens quite often.”
“You saw her?” Gordon asked. “So she’s home?”
“Yes. Rose has her tucked into bed, snug as a bug.” She turned her pale blue eyes to Gordon. “You’re going to find out what happened, aren’t you?”
“That I am. Ed Solomon’s checking out the scene. And as soon as I finish here, I’ll go talk to Megan. Her memory might be clearer after she’s had a little rest.”
“I’ll go light a fire under Ozzie and get you on your way.” She pivoted and took off across the diner at a brisk pace, her retreating hips providing a pleasant view.
“When you going to ask her out?” Dave said.
“Huh? What? Me? Angie?” Gordon shook his head. “Not my type.”
Dave grinned at Tom. “My money says they’ll be an item by the Fourth of July picnic.”
“Three months? I’m thinking Memorial Day, tops,” Tom said.
“Shut up, the two of you. This is a small town, and I don’t need you spreading rumors. I’ve got a position to uphold here. Besides, Angie’s dating what’s-his-name. The mechanic from Conifer.”
“Over and done three months ago,” Tom said. “I thought the cops knew what was going on with all the good citizens of Mapleton. You know, serve and protect.” The two men laughed.
Gordon swung his legs around and levered himself up from the bench. “Enough.” He strode to the register and dropped some bills on the counter. “Angie, I’ll take my dinner to go.”
Like living in a goddamn fish bowl.
###
Justin flopped onto the edge of the bed, clenching his cell phone at his ear.
“I told