Free Death by Scones by Jennifer Fischetto Page A

two years ago.
    My stomach grumbled, and fear squeezed my chest. "I'm not sure I can do this."
    "Of course you can. It's not a big deal. Think of it as acting.
    "This isn't pretend. It's impersonating a cop. That's all kinds of jail time."
    Tara's left eye twitched. "Don't think about it. Just go in there, believe you have the authority, and get that tape."
    I nodded as if I was in agreement, but in reality, my brain was screaming, "Don't be a fool."
    If I didn't go inside, though, it meant not getting answers. I could take the flash drive to Lester, but I doubted a gloved hand and some spotted shoes would be enough to convince him to reopen the case. So without any other options, I pushed open the car door and stepped out.
    I re-tucked the back of the light-blue shirt into the navy pants and walked across the parking lot. We had specifically timed this for 1:00 p.m., when only one teller would be in the bank and the other would be at lunch. I planned to hide my face as best as possible, but I prayed I wouldn't run into a customer. Wig or not, I still looked like me.
    Luckily, the bank was nearly empty. The teller helped an elderly woman at the counter, and neither of them paid attention to my entrance.
    The black sneakers I chose to complete the look squeaked on the tile flooring. I headed to the desk by the front windows, where a man my age sat. He wore a navy pinstripe suit and was adjusting the knot in his burgundy tie. He was definitely not buffed or tanned. In fact, he was the opposite. So how did Tara know him? Had her type changed?
    He looked up as I approached, and then he stood as I stepped up to his desk, and held out his hand. "Hello, I'm the bank manager, Mr. Stewart. How can I help you?"
    I placed my hand in his and shook. "I'm here about the death of Nathan Dearborn at the Cinnamon Sugar Bakery last Friday."
    He wiggled his tie knot again and returned to his seat. "I heard about that. I'm afraid I didn't know the man. I'm new to town."
    I flashed a half smile, not sure if I should act professional or friendly. "Your ATM machine is positioned at an angle where its security camera may have picked up Mr. Dearborn's arrival that morning."
    He frowned and stopped fidgeting. "Okay. But what does that have to do with the death?"
    "There's been some discrepancy as to what happened that day. We're looking for a concrete timeline to certain events. I can't divulge information about an ongoing case, as I'm sure you understand."
    "Yes, I do. Do you have a warrant?" he asked.
    Damn. He was going to play this by the rules.
    I sat on the edge of his desk and leaned forward, grateful I hadn't fastened the top button of my blouse. "I only noticed the camera a few minutes ago. I haven't had time to get a warrant yet. I figured I'd come in and see if I could get a copy now. The family is only in town for the funeral, which is later today, and they're just looking for answers."
    He gazed around the room as if looking for assistance with the sexy woman. "I want to help but…"
    I put on a high-wattage grin and leaned even closer. "You're new to Danger Cove. We're a small town and a safe, happy community. We do everything we can to help one another."
    I was running out of pep-squad words, and in another minute my face would be on his blotter. "Are you married, Mr. Stewart?" Hey, a dose of downright, obvious flirting couldn't hurt, right?
    He gave a peek of a smile and glanced away, as if my question embarrassed him. "Um, no, I'm divorced."
    "Oh, that must've been so hard. I'm very sorry. I've never been married."
    "That surprises me." He wiggled his tie knot again. "You're beautiful."
    "Oh, aren't you sweet? Thank you. I guess I've been waiting for the right man to come along. You know, someone smart and with a great sense of civic duty."
    Color rose up his neck. "I've been meaning to get better acquainted with the town. Maybe when you have some free time?"
    I hoped my surprise didn't show on my face. "Yes, I'd love that. As to the