He stood too. “Thanks for stopping by. Let me know if you stumble across anything helpful as you dig into the death records.”

“I will.” She walked toward the door, pausing in front of the photo of the farmhouse. “I like this picture. It has a feel-good vibe.”

He stopped beside her, close enough for her to catch the subtle hint of a distinctive, very masculine aftershave. “That’s the house where I grew up. There used to be an awesome tire swing on that tree.” He indicated the oak on the left. “I remember the day my dad climbed up to secure it, and how all of us—me, my brother, my mom, and my dad—took turns trying it out and celebrated with fresh-squeezed lemonade.”

She peeked at him.

His lips were bowed, softening the angular planes of his face, and his wistful expression tugged at her heart.

“Is it in Missouri?”

“Yes. Not far from here.”

“Do your parents still live there?”

An echo of sadness replaced the joy of remembrance in his eyes. “No. They’re both gone.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too. We were blessed to have a charmed family circle for a lot of years. But I have the photo—and enough happy memories to last a lifetime. Let me walk you out.” He opened the door to his office.

“No need. I’ve already taken up too much of your day.” She slipped past him. “I’ll let you know if my scavenger hunt unearths anything.”

Without waiting for a response, she strode down the hall.

But as she reached the corner, she couldn’t resist the temptation to glance back.

Nate lifted a hand in farewell and disappeared into his office, closing the door behind him.

In other words, he’d watched her walk away. Kept her in sight as long as possible.

Spirits ticking up, she waved at Eleanor as she passed the woman’s desk and continued toward the outside door.

Too bad she couldn’t have been impulsive for once, invited him to join her for a quick lunch. That would have given her an opportunity to pick his brain about the farmhouse he loved but didn’t occupy. What was the story there? Who owned the farm now? Had he and his brother remained close? What had prompted him to go into law enforcement rather than stick with the family business and live in the house that held such fond memories?

Unfortunately, those questions would have to wait for another day.

But unless she was misreading every cue he was sending, that day would come. The man was as interested in her as she was in him.

In the interim, a shift in gears was in order. The autopsy scheduled for this afternoon deserved her full attention.

However . . . if the lingering hint of a certain sheriff’s tantalizing aftershave prevailed over the usual smells of an autopsy, she wasn’t going to fight it.

The burner phone vibrated in his hand with the return call he’d been waiting for, and Dave put it to his ear, scanning the parking lot of the filling station convenience store as he spoke. “We have a problem.”