After that, she took a long, luxurious shower, dried herself off and put on fresh clothes: black jeans, a matching cowl-necked sweater and slip-on shoes. She dried her hair and pinned it up the way she had the night before, when she dressed for the New Year’s Eve bash.

Eli hadn’t said so, but she suspected he’d liked the look, since his eyes had widened, ever so slightly, just before they kissed.

She’d barely slept, reliving that kiss over and over again.

And, right or wrong, smart or stupid, she wanted a hundred more just like it.

Beyond that?

Time would tell.

“I’M GOING WITH YOU,” Melba told Eli, leaving no room for objections.

She was standing, looking very official in her uniform, in front of his desk, where he’d been filling out a preliminary report regarding Freddie Lansing’s unfortunate demise.

“I guess the red dress wouldn’t have been appropriate,” Eli remarked, with a sigh, leaning back in his chair. He clasped his hands behind his head and stretched, tired to the bone.

“Very funny,” Melba said.

“I wasn’t kidding. You look good in that dress, Summers.”

“If I didn’t know you’re batshit crazy about Brynne Bailey, I’d call you out for sexual harassment, Sheriff Garrett.”

Eli winced, shoved back his chair and stood. “It’s that obvious?”

Melba rolled her eyes. “Only to those of us with functional eyeballs.”

“Shit,” Eli said. “Do you think she noticed?”

“No,” Melba said, adjusting her service belt. “She was too busy being batshit crazy about you.”

Eli doubted that was true—he’d known Brynne for a long time—but a man could hope. “You’re a fine one to talk,” he pointed out. “Things are pretty hot between you and Dan, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t,” Melba said. “Let’s go and tell the Lansings their son is dead. I want to get this over with, and I’m sure you do, too.”

There was no denying that. “This is the part of the job I hate the most,” he confided, as they left his inner office for the reception area, where the night dispatcher, Evelyn, occupied the main desk.

Evelyn, a middle-aged woman and former beat cop, nodded in farewell as they passed.

Outside, they headed for the SUV.

“Dan’s back at our house again, now that Freddie isn’t a threat,” Melba said, once they were inside, seat belts fastened, good to go.

“I’d be lying if I said I’m not glad that little shit streak can’t hurt my family,” Eli confessed, starting the engine. “I wouldn’t have wished Freddie dead, but I’m relieved.”

He was relieved, but for some reason, he had a niggling sense that, somehow, things were still unresolved. There was another shoe, he was sure of that, and who knew when and how it would drop?