Read Online 2000 Kisses by Christina Skye - Free Book Online

sorry picture of a colleague and an oldfriend, Sheriff. I am simply trying to see justice done. Can't have Main Street turned into an eyesore.”
    “Give over, Grady. You're a deputy and no disturbance of the peace has taken place.”
    The deputy ignored him, tugging a worn pencil stub from behind his ear. “Maybe we could go for property damage or a charge of reckless endangerment. I could get an interview for the paper.” Grady started across the street, then turned impatiently. “Aren't you coming?”
    “Looks like I don't have any choice, not with you chewing at my saddle.”
    T.J. shoved back his hat and stretched slowly, working the knotted muscles at his shoulder where a charging cow had snapped him sideways. He stared at the crushed peaches, which were already drying in the fierce desert sun.
    Anything for news, T. J. McCall thought. In addition to serving as a deputy officer, Grady was also the editor of the
Almost Gazette
, and news had been scarce lately. It was downright pathetic how boredom could wear a man down.
    “Relax, Grady. The Mercantile looks intact, and as far as I can see, no shots have been fired and there are no dead bodies littering Main Street.”
    They crossed the street, matching each other stride for stride.
    Grady scratched his head. “Maybe the woman in the car is a spy for a foreign government.” His eyes darkened. “Or maybe she's a key witness on the run from indictment in an organized-crime investigation.”
    “Maybe she's just lost.”
    “The trouble with you, McCall, is you don't have any imagination. Leastways go and git her name. There's still some space left in the next issue.”
    “There's
always
space left in the next issue.”
    Grady gave a low whistle. “Well, would you look at that.”
    T. J. McCall barely heard his deputy's comment. He was too busy staring at the vision emerging from behind the wheel of the Mercedes. She was a true apparition in soft denim and teal-blue suede, and her hair reminded T.J. of a sunrise he'd seen as a boy camping out in the Superstitions. He'd never seen that much red, gold, and silver in one head before, and it took his breath away.
    Another tourist, he decided. He
hated
tourists. They brought nothing but trouble and complaints. Plagued with too much money and too little sense, in his general experience.
    There was another possibility, of course. She could be that baby sister that Andrew O'Mara was sending to Almost.
    T.J. scowled at the polished Mercedes and the even more polished female leaning against the hood. This sleek number wasn't
anyone's
baby sister. No woman who looked like that came to Almost except by mistake. There wasn't a sushi bar, day spa, or destination resort anywhere in sight.
    The woman still hadn't noticed him, and for some reason that added to T.J.'s irritation. She was hunched over the hood, fiddling with her map, giving T.J. a clear view of her rounded backside.
    He took a slow breath and let his gaze wander over the curves hidden beneath soft denim. A tooled leather belt circled her slim waist and a fringed suede jacket was slung over her shoulders.
    Oddly enough, there were tire tracks running right down the back of it.
    T.J. felt his throat go bone dry, the way it did when a dust devil cut over the mountains from Mexico, clogging his breath and whipping sand and grit in a dozen directions at once. Amazing how something so pretty could hurt so bad.
    “You need any help interrogating her, Sheriff?”
    “I think I can manage without backup, Grady. But thanks for the offer.”
    “You're the boss. But I reckon I'll stick around, just in case.”
    T.J. picked his way past the mutilated peaches. “Can I help you, Ma'am?”
    She didn't seem to hear, bent over a wrinkled map she was awkwardly folding and refolding. Each time the folds came out wrong.
    T.J. noticed that her hands were shaking.
    “Ma'am?”
    No answer.
    He slanted a look inside the expensive car. The seats were loaded with bags, books, and some