head angled in surprise. “Name them.”
“It’s my case, so I’m in charge. Remember that.”
“So noted.”
“No calling me Tadpole in front of the client or anyone we’re interviewing for the case.”
“Of course. That wouldn’t be professional. Understood. What else?”
She tore off a piece of her sandwich and nibbled it as she thought. “I…guess that’s all. The first one is the main thing.” She aimed a finger at him. “Don’t be bossy.”
He blinked. “Who me? I’m not—”
“You are, Mr. Two Pieces of Cake!” she said, laughing. “And you always have been!”
“Oh, see, now the cake thing…that’s wasn’t being bossy,” he said, his expression the image of innocence. “That was foresight, thoughtfulness and practicality.”
She tipped her head back as she laughed.
“I have conditions, too.” His serious tone caught her off guard and quelled her chuckles.
“You do?”
He set his spoon in his empty chili bowl and pushed the dirty dish aside. “If we work together, we keep our relationship completely platonic and professional.”
She snorted. “Naturally. That kinda goes without saying.”
So why did the term “platonic” cause the odd stab of disappointment? Summer could understand his caution since apparently someone was accusing him of untoward advances, but why had he felt it necessary to spell that out with her?
Okay, she had admired his fitness and the way his face had developed more chiseled and manly lines. Had he seen something in her face that he’d taken the wrong way? How embarrassing! Just in case, she added another eye roll and dismissive sniff. “No problem there.”
“Good.” He gave a satisfied nod. “Then we’re in agreement? We’ll work together on your murder case?”
“Uh…yeah.” She blinked, letting the arrangement sink in. She would be teaming up with Nolan. Who was an FBI agent. To solve a murder. Holy crap! She released her breath, and an excited smile stole onto her face. “Okay. Let’s do this!”
The cake Nolan had ordered earlier arrived, and she slid the biggest piece in front of her and dug in. It was divine.
Thirty minutes later, Summer unlocked her office and led Nolan inside. A dark gray cat met them at the door.
Nolan paused, staring at the feline. “Summer, there’s a cat in here.”
“Uh-huh. That’s Yossi.” She slung her jacket across the back of her desk chair and squatted to pat the feline. “Say hello. He’s very friendly.”
Nolan held his fingers out for the cat to sniff, and Yossi rubbed his head on the offered hand instead. Giving the cat’s cheek a little scratch, Nolan stepped deeper into the small office and surveyed the spare decor. The walls were bare, and her furnishings consisted of one wooden bookcase that was overloaded with books and stacks of magazines, two ladder-backed chairs facing a dented metal and faux-wood desk, a lamp and a metal file cabinet. In the corner was what he assumed was the cat’s litter box.
Nolan rubbed his chin as he took a seat in one of the chairs. “Love what you’ve done with the place. If I move back to town permanently, you’ll have to give me the name of your decorator.”
Summer gave him a withering glance. “It’s Sally Bite Me.”
He chuckled and propped an ankle on his opposite knee as he watched her opening file folders and paging through the notebook he’d seen her scribbling in at the crime scene. “So where are you in your investigation? Lay it out for me.”
She clicked open her pen and leaned back in her chair. “All right. So the victim is twenty-year-old Patrice Eccleston. Her family hired me first thing this morning, because they weren’t getting answers from the cops.”
“Not uncommon. The police often can’t share details of an open investigation. What if it turns out a family member was responsible for the murder?”
She arched one blond eyebrow. “Preaching to the choir, Nolan.”
He held up a hand. “Of course. Sorry.”
“The autopsy shows she was strangled. Her hands were bound by the time she was buried. No sign of sexual assault. Thank God. Broken fingernails indicate she struggled, but they found no traces of skin cells.”
“Whoever strangled her was covered up, then? Long sleeves, gloves…and she didn’t get his face, so maybe a mask. Or she was attacked from behind?”
She nodded and consulted her notes again. “She was last seen leaving Bailey’s Bar and Grill the night she disappeared. She was alone at the time, according to surveillance camera footage.” She tapped her pen against the notepad and looked up at Nolan. “I had her father and brother give me a list of her friends and hobbies, favorite hangouts and so forth—” She paused when Yossi jumped into Nolan’s lap, curled up and lay down. She covered a smile with her hand. “I hope you like cats. Yossi is not much for personal boundaries.”
He slanted a look at her gray feline, then rolled his eyes. “Yeah, it’s fine.” He scratched Yossi’s cheek and nodded to her. “You were saying?”
“Right.” She pulled out the forms that the Ecclestons had filled out and slid them across her desk to him. “Here’s what they’ve given me so far. I went out to the crime scene this morning, as you know, to see if anything unusual or telling jumped out at me.”
“And did anything?”
She twisted her mouth. “No.”
Nolan leaned forward to take the papers from her desk, and Yossi dug his claws in to hold on as his lap bed shifted. Leaning back, Nolan began scanning the information and asked, “Who found the body?”
“Construction workers dug her up while renovating the parking lot. The storm that blew through here this summer caused a good bit of flooding, and the parking lot buckled and part of it washed out. It had to be completely redone. Originally they thought Patrice was another victim of a guy named Corgan, a serial killer who confessed on his deathbed to murdering several other women in the area. But Patrice wasn’t mummified, and Corgan denied killing her, so…”
“So her killer is still out there. Thus the family’s hiring you.”
“Exactly.”
He returned the pages of notes to her desk. “I think I mentioned that my cousins were talking a bit about the case at dinner. They’ve been pretty deeply involved with solving the Mummy Killer case and some other goings-on around town lately. I’ll talk to them this afternoon and see what insights they might have that would help us. Things the police may not have shared with the family yet.”
Summer
