there could be anything between them since her parents had clearly disapproved of Wade.
She trusted her parents’ judgment, so she really didn’t like the effect he had on her now. She liked the way he’d looped his arm through hers. She liked his intention to follow through on his promise to her brother. And she liked the concerned look in his eyes. Mix that with his flat-out determination to stick with her, and the man was downright irresistible. Yet never once in all the years she’d known him had he indicated even a smidgen of interest in her beyond as his friend’s kid sister.
Considering her interest in him, she should keep her distance. He was all wrong for her. Yet she owed it to her brother to seek justice and, to be fair, she’d have a better chance of success if she accepted Wade’s help. Although she’d lived in Mustang Valley all her life, he knew people that she didn’t.
As long as he proved helpful, she’d let him stick around. But if he interfered, tried to dissuade her or tried to take over, she’d dump him so fast his head would spin. Satisfied with her plan, she picked up her pace.
Just to keep him from getting too familiar, she removed her arm from his. His touch might be gentlemanly and brotherly, but she didn’t relish the way she reacted to him. “Andrew was murdered. If I start poking my nose in where it doesn’t belong, the wrong person might notice.”
“I’m glad you’re going to be reasonable.”
She bristled. “I’m always reasonable.”
“I’m sure that’s true—from your perspective.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He didn’t answer, which infuriated her. Sometimes she had the feeling they came from not just different parts of town but different planets. Maybe that was why he’d always fascinated her. He was so different from the college guys she’d dated.
Wade’s voice remained soft but was threaded with steel. “Just so we’re agreed. When you go talk to the sheriff, we go together.”
She nodded. “Who else is on your mental list?”
“The short list? The fire chief. Andrew’s associates at Lambert & Church. Debbie West. And Mitch, the deputy I told you about.”
“I vote we start with the sheriff. But I have to meet Cara for lunch.” Kelly checked her watch. “Why don’t I meet you at the sheriff’s station at two?”
“What? You don’t want to invite me to do lunch?”
She rolled her eyes skyward. “You wouldn’t be interested in our girl talk.”
“You’d be surprised what interests me.”
She waved him down the street. “Go away, Wade.” Knowing from experience that there was no faster way to discourage his company, she added, “Besides lunch, I have some shopping to do.”
OVER TUNA SALADS and Dr. Peppers in Dot’s sandwich shop, Kelly filled Cara in, recapping her conversation with Doc about her brother’s murder and Wade’s offer to help figure out what had happened. The high-backed booth gave them some privacy, but Kelly kept her voice down below the croon of a Garth Brooks song over the speaker system, well aware that in small towns like Mustang Valley gossip traveled faster than e-mail.
“So Wade and I are talking to Sheriff Wilson next,” Kelly told Cara, pleased with her progress and more determined than ever to keep asking questions.
Cara snapped a bread stick and swirled it in her dressing. “Back up. Slow down. What’s with the Wade-and-me stuff?”
“He offered to help. I accepted.”
“This is Cara you’re talking to, sweetie.” Cara crunched down on the bread stick and swallowed. “I happen to know you’ve had a crush on that guy since practically forever.”
“Had being the operative word.”
“Yeah, right.”
The two friends exchanged glances and both chuckled. Kelly saw no point in hiding anything from Cara. Her friend might disapprove, she might speak her mind, but they always backed each other up.
When they were teenagers, Kelly’s parents had been a big factor in the boys she’d chosen to date. But perhaps she should reconsider their influence. After all, she was no longer a kid but a college graduate.
“Okay. Wade’s still got these very cool gray eyes. I admit it, there’s a certain spark there. At least on my side. However, he’s still treating me like Andrew’s little sister.”
“And you don’t like it?”
“I like the way his chest and shoulders fill out his tacky T-shirt in all the right places.” She held up a hand to stall Cara’s protest. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t accept his help without becoming…involved. I don’t judge a man on just his looks.”
“Wade’s not like those college guys you go with. He’s dangerous. I don’t like the idea of you and him together. It’s like trusting a hungry wolf to guard a newborn calf.”
“Andrew trusted him,” Kelly countered.
“And look where he is now.”
Kelly didn’t bother to hide the pain that statement caused. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“Sorry. My reporter instincts took over. Going in for the kill to win an argument is my specialty.” Cara reached over the table, her eyes filled with remorse, and patted Kelly’s hand. “But hurting my friend is unacceptable.”
Kelly shoved her half-eaten salad away. “Apology accepted. I guess I’m overly sensitive these days.”
“Of course you’re overly sensitive. Who wouldn’t be after losing their brother? You’re not yourself and that’s one of the reasons I’m worried about you hanging out with Wade. I’ll admit he can be useful. He knows almost everyone, and he and Andrew were tight.”
“But?”
“But you’re especially vulnerable right now. These last weeks have been rough. And you know Wade’s reputation is…”
“Just say it.”
“He’s a hard man to read, and at the same time he’s a gifted observer. I’ve seen him at work behind that bar. He can fix food and serve drinks and act totally absorbed in his work, but now and then it pops out how he’s exceptionally aware of his customers. It’s almost as if he senses trouble before it starts—like he has sensory antennae, alerting him to what is awry, out of place or simply off.”
“Those aren’t bad traits.”
“Yeah, but he keeps his own counsel and runs that saloon like it’s his own private kingdom. He’s always in charge. I’ve seen him toss out three-hundred-pound drunks without breaking a sweat or resorting to pulling the knife he keeps strapped to his ankle.”
“He’s a skilled marksman, too,” Kelly added, recalling the picture Andrew had taken of Wade holding a trophy. “He wins the skeet-shooting competition at the
