to? What makes an innocent woman follow Jackie’s orders?”
She widened her doe eyes and fluttered her eyelashes. At this point it had to be natural instinct or just habit. It had no effect on Andi.
One delicate shoulder rose slowly. “Well, Sheriff, I—” she glanced around the diner and back at Mark Taylor before she leaned forward over the table “—depend on Jackie to keep certain habits secret.”
Andi tried to process that as she asked, “Like...?” She couldn’t come up with a single possibility.
Wanda squeezed her eyes shut and then she mouthed, Pie.
Andi leaned back against the booth. “Did you just say pie?”
Wanda bit her lip. “I’ve got a real bad problem. Jackie’s my supplier. The town’s only fitness icon...and I’m addicted to pie.” Her eyes filled with what seemed to be real tears, and Andi was stumped.
Finally she asked, “Where were you after the Country Kitchen closed last night?”
Wanda sniffed. “I left The Gym at my usual time, about six. I didn’t leave the house until I started my run down here, and I think Jackie was the first person I ran into.”
Wanda Blankenship owned the single health club in town. To be technically correct, her father owned it, but if anyone wanted a treadmill, an elliptical machine, a swimming pool or a tanning bed, then Wanda’s place was the only game in town. She was a walking advertisement for good health and the benefits of regular exercise and short visits to tanning beds.
Wanda had plenty of time to break into the diner and no alibi, but from the mild look of dismay on her face, Andi was nearly certain Wanda would never want to. Unless she needed a way to counter Jackie knowing her secret, but what would she have been hoping to use as leverage?
Andi drew a line through her name on the list of suspects and quickly did the same with Mark Taylor. She just couldn’t imagine what the motive might be.
Wanda looked down at her watch. “Am I free to go, Sheriff?” Andi nodded and picked up her steaming hot cup of coffee. As she sipped, Andi watched Wanda sashay across the diner to the counter where Mark Taylor sat checking his phone for whatever he checked...text messages from girlfriends, hot tips on no-news events in town, sports scores. When Wanda patted his back and bent down to say something, he laughed. Wanda turned to leave and amped up the seduction in her walk. All eyes, even those of the twelve-year-old boy in the booth by the window, followed her exit.
With a deep sigh, Mark Taylor turned to say, “Ready for me, Sheriff?”
Andi really didn’t think she was. She took another sip of coffee and put it carefully back on the table. “You bet.”
CHAPTER TWO
MARK TAYLOR SLID into the booth across from prickly Sheriff Andrea Jackson. Facing off against her was familiar but that didn’t make it any less interesting. Or exciting. She was not a restful person. She was...motivated. Busy. Determined to prove herself. He ought to know. He was recovering from the same obsession himself. Burnout and watching his first wife walk away with a man who’d be home every night had convinced him to try a new life, one with free time and fishing.
Covering bake sales and school plays had taken some adjustment, but he’d embraced his new life wholeheartedly and had the lower blood pressure and friends in town to show for it.
When he settled against the booth, she crossed her arms defensively. As always, he watched the sheriff closely without letting her know he did. She wore her normal spotless uniform and had her hair pulled back so tightly he was surprised she could move her eyebrows. She looked like the type of person who’d build her own ammunition just for fun. He’d bet the fortune he didn’t have that she wasn’t wearing a speck of makeup. She was too tightly wound but pretty.
He braced his elbows on the table. The sheriff flipped a page in her notebook and did not meet his eyes. “So, Sheriff, how goes the investigation?” She was stubborn and uncommunicative on the best days. He wouldn’t get much out of her without a poke.
“Fine. Want to tell me why you’re here if you had nothing to do with this?”
He shrugged. “I knew there would be a good story. We put the paper out yesterday so it’s time to start rounding up the news for next week.”
He leaned forward like he had a secret. “That’s sorta how the whole newspaper thing works, you know.”
Andi picked up her full cup of coffee and stared at it for a second. As he’d chatted with pretty, obvious Wanda Blankenship, he’d watched the sheriff and the rest of the diners. The sheriff was good at focus. She’d probably noticed every hair out of place on Jackie or Wanda, but she was bad on the periphery. He’d had experience in cataloging lots of tiny details all at once. Good stories depended on those. Oscar had refilled her cup at least once, and it was clear that this was the first time she realized it. He watched her watch Oscar and could almost see the lightbulb go on over her head.
“Do his ninjalike coffee skills make you wonder what else he might be capable of?” he asked as he reached over to ruffle the pages of her notebook. When she snapped her head back, stiffened in her seat and snatched her notebook out of his reach, he added a mental note to the list of things he wanted to know about the sheriff. What’s in the notebook?
Curiosity had always been one of his best assets. It was also one of his biggest challenges. He’d never learned how to let a story go, something his ex-wife had shouted more than once.
When he pulled his hand back, Andi took a deep, calming breath. And then she went back on the offensive. “Oscar’s skills aren’t all that important right now, Mr. Taylor. Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts between the time the restaurant closed and when you arrived this morning?”
Something about that “Mr. Taylor” got to him. He wanted to ruffle her a bit. She wouldn’t put up with it for long—she never had any time to waste. He’d better make it good.
He shook his head. “Nope, Sheriff. I spent last night at home.” He leaned forward again and looked up at her through his eyelashes. “I was all alone.”
Andi scribbled a note and met his stare again.
“Isn’t that sad?”
“That no one can vouch for your whereabouts?”
He shook his head. “No, that I was all alone.”
Andi snorted. Or tried to. It came out as a strangled snarf, but he gave her points for trying. With a huff, she retorted, “That is very sad. Hearts all over Tall Pines and the tri-county area would break if they heard such a sad story.”
He did his best not to laugh. Andi Jackson was adorable when she was riled.
“All right, Mr. Taylor. If I have any more questions, I know where to find you.” When he didn’t move, Andi raised both eyebrows. “You can go.” She made little encouraging gestures with both hands.
He started to ease out of the booth but paused on the edge. He didn’t want to leave. “You know, Sheriff, I’m a pretty good investigator. I spent a few years working the crime beat for the state paper before I came here.” His skills were a little rusty, but offering to help might get him into the tight-lipped sheriff’s good graces. Getting any info out of her was next to impossible. “I’d be happy to assist with your investigation. We could exchange information. Sure would make my job easier and the story better.”
She nodded once. “Thank you, Mr. Taylor. I will let you know if I have any questions.”
He shrugged one shoulder and stood. “I guess I’ll just have to stick close to you, Sheriff Jackson. For my readers.”
Andi slapped her notebook closed and slid it into her pocket with authority. And meaning. What would she think if she knew he found that cute rather than authoritative? He should have his head examined. “We’ll have to see about that, Mr. Taylor.