After experiencing that old nightmare, Elena knew she couldn’t go back to sleep, so she dressed and decided to go to work. Unfortunately, her car and keys to the shop were still with the detectives. Instead of waking her mother and facing questions, Elena wrote a note and took a bus downtown. She could walk from the main police station to the shop.
The receptionist walked to her desk, a cup of coffee in her hand. “May I help you?”
“Is Detective Stillwater here?”
The woman called the detective’s extension. “Detective, there’s a woman here—” She paused and looked at Elena.
“Elena Jackson.”
The woman repeated the name. “Okay. I’ll relay the message.” She hung up the phone. “He’ll be here in a moment.”
Elena turned and looked out the plate-glass windows into the empty street. It glowed with a soft predawn light. The scent of piñon and mountain cedar filled the air. This time of day always refreshed Elena, and in the stillness, she could pray. She could tell the Lord about her day and spend time with Him. Even in New York, where there was a mass of humanity, the mornings were her time to renew herself. In New York, praying as she walked to work had made her appreciate the beauty of the city, but when she came home to New Mexico, her soul found peace.
The smell of the receptionist’s coffee floated through the air, reminding Elena that she hadn’t had her morning cup yet. A stop at Juan’s at the corner of the street would be her first priority after she got her keys. Juan’s Café was a favorite hangout for the cops and lawyers downtown, but, despite that, she’d wanted coffee and one of the breakfast burritos Juan cooked up. Often, when she was a teen, her adoptive father had brought her to the store and they’d stop at Juan’s for a treat.
“How are you doing this morning?” Daniel’s voice jerked her out of her thoughts.
Elena turned and watched the detective walk toward her. He was a good-looking man, something she hadn’t noticed last night. Of course, she had been a little too preoccupied to look, but now she gave him a once-over. Whipcord lean, Daniel had a wealth of blue-black hair, high cheekbones, piercing brown eyes and a well-defined mouth. The coppery tone of his skin reminded Elena that it was his ancestors who first roamed this land. He probably had his fair share of female admiration. She didn’t notice a wedding ring on his left hand. Although he’d been up all night, he didn’t look tired.
“I came by for my keys. I wanted to get to the shop and see what needed to be done.”
“Let’s go back to my desk. Your keys are there and we can go over your story again.”
Her eyes widened. “Why?”
“Now that you’ve had the night to think about what happened, maybe something else occurred to you.”
Suspicion filled her. Did he think she had something to do with Joyce’s murder? But before she could say anything, her stomach rumbled. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment.
Daniel’s mouth curved with amusement.
“I haven’t had breakfast,” she mumbled. “I was going to stop by Juan’s before I went to the store.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Her brows knitted into a frown. “I beg your pardon?”
“Let’s go to Juan’s. Over some burritos, we can go over your statement.”
“Huh—” Her stomach rumbled again.
His gaze captured hers.
“Okay,” she agreed.
Daniel went back to his desk, picked up her keys and handed them to her. He put his notebook in his shirt pocket, grabbed his corduroy jacket and slipped it on.
Rodriguez sat back in his chair. “Hey, when you’re at Juan’s, buy me a number one and have him send it over.” He pulled several bills from his wallet and handed them to Daniel.
Elena noticed the silent message the two men exchanged and wondered what it was about. Once outside in the morning air, Elena glanced at Daniel.
“Am I about to get the third degree?” she asked.
“No. What makes you think that?”
“All the silent messages you and your partner exchanged.”
“You’re imagining things.”
She didn’t believe him and prepared herself for the grilling.
The wonderful smell of coffee and refried beans surrounded her as they stepped into the restaurant, making her worries disappear. Whatever the detective had in mind, she could handle it after a cup of coffee and something to eat.
She ordered and found a booth in the corner away from the noise and chatter of the restaurant. Daniel ordered his breakfast and Rodriguez’s. After paying for them, he joined her.
“Have you remembered anything else about Joyce that you didn’t tell me last night?” he asked.
“I’ve tried not to think, to put everything out of my mind.” She concentrated on her burrito.
He took a bite of his breakfast. “How long did Joyce work at your store?” he questioned.
“She worked for my parents for the last five years.” When he gave her a look, she explained, “I was in college at UNM, studying art. When I came home one Christmas, Joyce was working at the store. I knew her casually, but if you want more information on her, talk to my mother. Mom worked with Joyce every day for the last five years. I worked holidays and some summers when I came home. Once in New York, I rarely saw Joyce.”
“But you’ve been here in Santa Fe for the last six months?”
Elena frowned at him. If he knew the answer, why ask the question? Maybe he was testing her. “My father passed away at the beginning of March. Mother wasn’t able to handle the business, so I quit my job in New York and came home.” She didn’t want to discuss the grief that put her mother in bed or how in order to keep things running, she’d come home. Her adopted older brother lived in Seattle with his family. Of the two of them, she was more able to come and help their mother.
He took out his notebook and scribbled something down. “So you aren’t familiar with Joyce?”
She frowned at him. “No. She was a wonderful employee, always on time, reliable, helpful to my parents. Since I’ve been home, I can’t name any problems with her.” Of course, Elena had been worried about Joyce.
“What are you not telling me?”
Her head jerked up. “What makes you think—”
He gave her a pointed stare. “I’m a trained investigator.”
Elena shrugged. “As I told you last night, Joyce seemed to be preoccupied over the last couple of weeks.”
“Tell me about it.”
Elena
