a mess of his carefully laid plans.
How was he supposed to dig around in the house records with her looking over his shoulder? If she were going to be at the house every day alongside him, that didn’t leave him any opportunity to snoop during that time. Now his only option was to find a way inside the house so that he could search for his answers at night.
Maybe he’d luck into a spare key lying around. If not, then he’d make sure to leave a window unlocked—a downstairs one with easy access, if such a thing existed. The swamp had almost swallowed the house, the brush and weeds pushing their way right up to the house walls.
He stopped pacing and ran one hand through his hair. What the hell was he supposed to do until tomorrow morning? Even if he could have distracted his overloaded mind with television, the caretaker didn’t own a set. No television, no radio, not even a crossword-puzzle book. What in the world did the man do for entertainment?
He glanced at his watch for the hundredth time since leaving the mansion. Four o’clock. At this rate, he’d wear out the cabin’s wooden floors before nightfall with all this pacing. Maybe Danae was still at the house. If so, he could always ask if he could take an inventory. That way, he could pick up any needed supplies in order to begin work straightaway the next morning. Surely she couldn’t find fault with that logic.
Mind made up, he grabbed his keys and headed back to the mansion. As he pulled into the drive, he saw a truck with the sheriff’s logo on the door. His hand tightened on the steering wheel as he pulled behind the truck and parked. What could be going on that warranted the sheriff?
He hopped out of his truck, and as he started toward the front door, it opened and a man stepped out. Zach studied the sheriff as he approached the entrance. This athletic man looked to be about the same age as him, the last thing he’d imagined for the sheriff of Calais. An aging, balding man with a potbelly was more what he would have guessed.
The sheriff caught his gaze immediately as he stepped outside and glanced back at Danae, who stood just inside the door. She said something to him and he nodded then made his way across the drive, meeting Zach halfway.
“Carter Trahan,” the sheriff said and extended his hand.
“Zach Sargent,” he replied and gave Carter’s hand a firm shake. “I hope there wasn’t any trouble here.”
“Not at all. I promised Alaina I’d check up on Danae.”
“Alaina?”
“Her sister.” Carter grinned. “And the woman most likely to make my life miserable if I don’t follow her instructions.”
Zach smiled. “Is Alaina as attractive as her sister?”
“Ah, now, see, I can’t answer that question without being in trouble with someone, so I’ll just say they’re both gorgeous in their own right and leave it at that.”
“You’re a wise man.”
Carter nodded. “Danae tells me William hired you to make the repairs.”
“Yeah,” Zach said. “I just got a glance at the inside earlier, but it looks like my work’s cut out for me.”
“Definitely.” He studied Zach for a moment. “This seems an odd choice of jobs for someone as young as you. I figured the reconstruction in New Orleans pays better and offers the nightlife.”
The delivery of the statement was casual, but Zach knew a fishing expedition when he heard it. The sheriff’s seemingly pleasant disposition didn’t completely mask his shrewd observation skills. Zach had to be very careful, very deliberate, around this man. If he gave Carter any reason at all to suspect he wasn’t exactly who he claimed to be, he’d run him out of town on a rail.
“The rates are better, that’s true. But I’ve been in the city all my life. Sometimes a man just needs to get away from everything—slow down a bit.”
Carter nodded. “I get that. Did it myself earlier this year. Resigned my detective position with the New Orleans Police Department and came back home to run herd over a town with less people than my old apartment building.”
Zach struggled to keep the surprise and worry from his expression. A young, inquisitive sheriff with big-city experience and connections was the last person he needed looking into his background. This was no small-town sheriff that could be easily fooled. “Any regrets?”
“Not a single one.”
“Then maybe I’m on the right track.”
Carter smiled. “Did you get settled in the caretaker’s cabin?”
“Didn’t bring much with me except work clothes and some tools. To tell the truth, I was feeling kinda stir-crazy, so I came to see if Danae was still here. Thought I could put together a supply list and get it filled this evening. Save me some time getting started tomorrow morning.”
“Efficient. I like that. Well, guess I’ll leave you to it. Maybe I’ll see you in town sometime—buy you a slice of pie and coffee down at the café.”
“That sounds like the best offer I’ve had in weeks. Nice meeting you.”
“You, too,” Carter said as he strolled to his truck. He gave Zach a wave as he pulled away.
Zach looked over at the entry, not surprised to see Danae still standing there, observing the entire exchange. She frowned as Carter’s truck pulled away, and Zach wondered if Danae wasn’t thrilled with her sister’s choice of men. He’d seemed nice enough but a person never really knew what went on behind closed doors.
Maybe she wants him for herself.
The thought came unbidden and he felt a twinge of jealousy, which irked him. He was in Calais to find answers and then get back to his real life in New Orleans. He’d pulled major strings to manage even a few weeks away. The absolute last thing he needed to do was waste any of his precious time with amorous thoughts of a woman who seemed annoyed at his presence.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you back so soon,” Danae said as he approached the door, her tone telling him straight off she wasn’t the least bit happy to see him, either.
“I was hoping to get a quick inventory—maybe get some of the supplies this evening.”
“That’s what I heard. I’m going to be here another hour or so. Do you think you can cover enough ground by then?”
He shrugged. “It will be more than I have now.”
Danae opened the door wider and stepped back, allowing him to enter.
“So,” he said as he stepped inside, “your sister and the sheriff?”
She raised one eyebrow. “I didn’t take you for a romantic, Mr. Sargent.”
“Please call me Zach. And maybe I was just interested in your sister.”
She gave him the faintest of smiles. “Most men that have seen her are.”
“Really? Then I guess it’s a real shame she’s settled on a guy who carries a gun for a living.”
“You don’t like living dangerously?”
Surprised at the slightly teasing tone of her voice, he smiled. “Not when it comes to women.”
“Smart.”
She turned and waved a hand toward the vast open entry. Zach couldn’t help but notice how her jeans curved over her hips, how her T-shirt clung to her full chest and tiny waist.
“What did you have in mind?” she asked.
“Huh?” Her question came at the worst possible time, because at that moment, none of the things he had in mind had anything to do with the repairs.
“Well,” he drawled, hurrying to recover, “I thought I’d do a quick inventory of rooms to note the obvious items. I’m sure the list will expand as