Scene of the Crime: Return to Mystic Lake. Carla Cassidy

impressed, Ms. Maggie. I think there’s a bit of naughty woman trapped inside you,” Jackson said once they were back in the car.

      “Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed, cheeks far too warm. “There’s no naughty inside of me. I’m by the book, rigid and uptight. Trust me, Jackson, I know who I am.”

      “I wonder,” he mused. She kept her mouth firmly closed, not wanting to know what he wondered. “Let’s head on back to Kansas City,” he said. “We can drive back out here and start with this Natalie Redwing first thing in the morning.”

      “Why not do it now?” Marjorie asked.

      Jackson looked at his watch. “It’s going to be close to six by the time we make it back to Kansas City. I say we order a pizza and sit down and go through what we know, figure out who needs to be interviewed next and get a general idea of where we are.”

      “Right now it feels like we’re nowhere,” she replied.

      “Exactly. It might surprise you to know that I can be a by-the-book kind of guy despite my huge ego.”

      She glanced over to catch him smiling that sexy grin of his. “So, what does that mean?”

      “It means I’d like to feed my notes into my laptop and see if we really have nothing or if we’ve already made any connections that might lead somewhere. I also want to utilize some resources I have with the agency to double-check bank records, travel and anything else that might pop up with Amberly or Cole’s names.”

      “But you just assigned that task for Deputy Black to take care of,” she replied.

      “You know our resources are better than theirs.”

      “Okay, sounds like a plan,” she replied somewhat reluctantly. She had a feeling being in a motel room with Jackson Revannaugh for any reason probably wasn’t the best idea.