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Authors: Jennie Jones
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about?’
‘Screwdrivers.’
Sammy wiggled her eyebrows. ‘Sexy stuff.’ She moved off down the street. ‘Do you remember what he was wearing?’
Charlotte followed. ‘A white shirt, a scratched leather belt and faded jeans.’
‘What shoes was he wearing?’
‘I didn’t look.’
Sammy glanced over her shoulder. ‘Didn’t get past those jeans, huh?’
Charlotte couldn’t still the deepening warmth Sammy’s offered friendship built in her chest. She wasn’t staying in town long, but so far it had been a lonelier road than anticipated. She decided to try out this offer of friendship. ‘He’s got a nice butt, I will say that for him.’
Sammy spluttered a laugh. ‘There’s nothing better than staring at a good-looking man in a pair of jeans.’
Charlotte gave in. ‘It’s a very nice backside.’
Sammy slowed her pace. ‘I’m trying to figure out if he’s keen on the committee, or keen on you.’
‘That’s a no regarding me.’
‘I’m not so sure.’ Sammy turned. ‘Did he give you his sparkly look? The one where lights flicker in his eyes?’
The dancing flecks of charm. ‘Do you see them too?’
‘Charlotte, there isn’t a woman in this town—or likely anywhere Dan’s been—who hasn’t been mesmerised by those lights.’
‘Except me.’
‘Yeah, right.’ Sammy leaned closer and lowered her voice. ‘Picture it. You’re with him, close to him. It’s dusk. It’s so quiet you can hear the mice scuttling behind the skirting boards in the empty bar. The air is warm. He leans towards you, tips his head and …’
Charlotte’s breath hitched.
Sammy offered a grin. ‘I’ll let you imagine the next part for yourself.’ She moved off towards a big blue ute.
‘Believe me,’ Charlotte argued, following. ‘The spark between us is a follow through to instant dislike of each other.’
‘Yeah,’ Sammy said as she beeped her remote at the ute. ‘And I’m so not pregnant.’
‘You getting friendly with the new woman?’ Mrs J asked Dan.
Dan kept his sigh to himself, took his focus off Sammy and Charlotte standing by Ethan’s ute, and turned to Mrs Johnson. ‘Nope. I’m helping everyone out here, that’s all.’
‘You’ve got a grin on your face every time you talk to her.’
‘She likes arguing. I’m happy to oblige.’
‘Bit of a surprise, seeing you stick your hand up for the committee.’
Dan gave her a quick grin. ‘Surprised myself but sometimes I feel the need to help people.’
‘Something familiar about her but I can’t put my finger on what.’
Here we go. Dan crossed his arms and settled in for the duration of the post-mortem. Whenever there was an inquisition regarding some poor sucker in town who’d done something questionable, somebody always piped up and said they’d heard this or that tittle-tattle. Dan had learned fast that it was best to let people talk themselves into and out of it again.
‘Don’t want you falling for her until I know what she’s up to,’ Mrs J continued.
Falling for her? Where had Mrs J got that idea?
‘I’ve got a nose for the suspect, Daniel, and she’s prime.’
‘What do you mean?’ Dan wondered if the old girl had heard the one about the two-timing redhead hiding from her furious boyfriends.
‘Not sure yet, but I recognise her from somewhere. It’s her hair, something about her colouring.’
Or the one about Red tying up an intruder in her home and using him as her sexual slave for three days before turning him over to the cops.
Dan shook that tale from his mind. He didn’t like the sound of it now any more than when he’d first heard it over the bar. And anyway, he wasn’t falling for her.
‘Ted said the same thing,’ Mrs J said. ‘He recognises her too. And while I’m on the subject of Ted, please be aware Grace said he’s having a few of his space-and-alien turns.’
‘Right. But he hasn’t disappeared yet.’ Dan hooked a thumb up at the heavens.
‘Not yet—but you of all people
‘Screwdrivers.’
Sammy wiggled her eyebrows. ‘Sexy stuff.’ She moved off down the street. ‘Do you remember what he was wearing?’
Charlotte followed. ‘A white shirt, a scratched leather belt and faded jeans.’
‘What shoes was he wearing?’
‘I didn’t look.’
Sammy glanced over her shoulder. ‘Didn’t get past those jeans, huh?’
Charlotte couldn’t still the deepening warmth Sammy’s offered friendship built in her chest. She wasn’t staying in town long, but so far it had been a lonelier road than anticipated. She decided to try out this offer of friendship. ‘He’s got a nice butt, I will say that for him.’
Sammy spluttered a laugh. ‘There’s nothing better than staring at a good-looking man in a pair of jeans.’
Charlotte gave in. ‘It’s a very nice backside.’
Sammy slowed her pace. ‘I’m trying to figure out if he’s keen on the committee, or keen on you.’
‘That’s a no regarding me.’
‘I’m not so sure.’ Sammy turned. ‘Did he give you his sparkly look? The one where lights flicker in his eyes?’
The dancing flecks of charm. ‘Do you see them too?’
‘Charlotte, there isn’t a woman in this town—or likely anywhere Dan’s been—who hasn’t been mesmerised by those lights.’
‘Except me.’
‘Yeah, right.’ Sammy leaned closer and lowered her voice. ‘Picture it. You’re with him, close to him. It’s dusk. It’s so quiet you can hear the mice scuttling behind the skirting boards in the empty bar. The air is warm. He leans towards you, tips his head and …’
Charlotte’s breath hitched.
Sammy offered a grin. ‘I’ll let you imagine the next part for yourself.’ She moved off towards a big blue ute.
‘Believe me,’ Charlotte argued, following. ‘The spark between us is a follow through to instant dislike of each other.’
‘Yeah,’ Sammy said as she beeped her remote at the ute. ‘And I’m so not pregnant.’
‘You getting friendly with the new woman?’ Mrs J asked Dan.
Dan kept his sigh to himself, took his focus off Sammy and Charlotte standing by Ethan’s ute, and turned to Mrs Johnson. ‘Nope. I’m helping everyone out here, that’s all.’
‘You’ve got a grin on your face every time you talk to her.’
‘She likes arguing. I’m happy to oblige.’
‘Bit of a surprise, seeing you stick your hand up for the committee.’
Dan gave her a quick grin. ‘Surprised myself but sometimes I feel the need to help people.’
‘Something familiar about her but I can’t put my finger on what.’
Here we go. Dan crossed his arms and settled in for the duration of the post-mortem. Whenever there was an inquisition regarding some poor sucker in town who’d done something questionable, somebody always piped up and said they’d heard this or that tittle-tattle. Dan had learned fast that it was best to let people talk themselves into and out of it again.
‘Don’t want you falling for her until I know what she’s up to,’ Mrs J continued.
Falling for her? Where had Mrs J got that idea?
‘I’ve got a nose for the suspect, Daniel, and she’s prime.’
‘What do you mean?’ Dan wondered if the old girl had heard the one about the two-timing redhead hiding from her furious boyfriends.
‘Not sure yet, but I recognise her from somewhere. It’s her hair, something about her colouring.’
Or the one about Red tying up an intruder in her home and using him as her sexual slave for three days before turning him over to the cops.
Dan shook that tale from his mind. He didn’t like the sound of it now any more than when he’d first heard it over the bar. And anyway, he wasn’t falling for her.
‘Ted said the same thing,’ Mrs J said. ‘He recognises her too. And while I’m on the subject of Ted, please be aware Grace said he’s having a few of his space-and-alien turns.’
‘Right. But he hasn’t disappeared yet.’ Dan hooked a thumb up at the heavens.
‘Not yet—but you of all people
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