not my boyfriend.”
“I was gonna say, tough to have a relationship with someone you hardly see.”
“Tough to have a relationship with another artist. Marco and I had a thing once, but it was exhausting—and not in a good way.” She winked at him.
He raised one eyebrow and took another bite of his burger.
She zigzagged her spoon through the hot surface of her chili and watched the steam curl up. How had he gotten her to open up while he remained aloof and closemouthed?
“And you? Are you going to settle in Timberline or do you have a home somewhere else?”
“I don’t have a home, and I sure as hell don’t plan to stay in Timberline.”
“Are you here to sell your father’s place? I’m sure you know, ever since Evergreen Software moved in, housing prices have shot up.”
“I’ll probably sell it. Nothing but bad memories attached to the place.”
He offered nothing more. Where had he been since being discharged from the army? What was he doing in Timberline? And why did he have the same tattoo as a murder victim?
Jim dragged a napkin across his mouth and tapped her arm. “Incoming.”
She jerked her head to the side. “It’s Sheriff Musgrove. I guess he’s feeling better.”
“Is he new?”
“He’s new and lazy. More interested in fund-raising, but he’s been keeping a low profile lately, since he was good friends with Jordan Young.”
“Well, he’s making a beeline for us, so maybe he has some news from homicide.”
As the sheriff made a few stops on his way, Scarlett leaned close to Jim and whispered, “Does it look like everyone is reassured at what he’s telling them? Because I’m pretty sure they’re asking him about the murder.”
“Nobody’s screaming and fainting.”
Musgrove finally made it to them and positioned himself between their two bar stools. “Trouble just seems to follow you around, doesn’t it, Ms. Easton?”
“Me and you both.” Scarlett pushed away her bowl. “This is Jim Kennedy. He was with me last night when I stumbled across the body.”
The two men shook hands and Jim asked, “News about the murder?”
“Yeah, which is why I came over here when one of the deputies said he saw Ms. Easton at the bar. The fact that you’re here, too, is convenient, since I don’t have to go out to your place.”
“What’s the news?”
Musgrove smiled and waved at the bartender. “We identified the victim.”
Scarlett slid a glance at Jim. “Who is he?”
“Name’s Jeff Kelly, goes by the name of Rusty. He’s fifty-one years old and a member of the Lords of Chaos motorcycle gang.”
“Club.”
“Excuse me?” Musgrove cocked his head, his eyebrows colliding over his nose.
“They prefer to be called a club—the Lords of Chaos Motorcycle Club.”
“And how exactly do you know that, Kennedy?”
“Because I was a member—and I knew Rusty.”
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