Motion on the horizon snagged my attention, and what I thought at first was a heat mirage solidified into a feminine outline. She strode across the scrubland toward me with a bounce in her step, and I couldn’t peg her affiliation based on her attire. Short shorts. Cropped T-shirt. Cowgirl boots. Civilian or off-duty marshal?

I slid my palms over the leather-bound wheel and gave serious thought to turning around and driving right back to Midland. From there I could hop a plane to Memphis. Drive the couple hours’ home. Sleep in my own bed while the old guilt nibbled at my conscience one bite at the time.

Knuckles rapped on glass, and I jumped as a grinning face haloed by wavy pink hair peered in at me. Recognition sparked, and I jabbed the button until my window lowered. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re not the only consultant working overtime on Charybdis.” Flipper braided the ends of her hair, the gesture so automatic as to be a habit. “Nice toy car, by the way.”

Ignoring the jab at my subcompact ride, I leaned out the window and stared down at her legs bared by the teeny scrap of lavender denim masquerading as shorts. Legs. On a mermaid. Sure, there were ways for merfolk to walk among humans, but none of them were legal because each of them required ritual sacrifice.

I pointed at her scuffed teal cowboy boots. “Where did those come from?”

“An outlet mall off I-20.” She pivoted her heel, admiring her foot. “I can give you directions if you like.”

“Cute,” I said dryly.

She buffed her chipping nails on her shirt. “That’s what they tell me.” When I reached through the window to nudge her away from the door, she danced out of reach and pointed at my hand. “Hey. No touching.”

Interesting. Flipper had herself a secret. Two of them I bet. Both crammed into her outlet mall cowboy boots.

I tucked my hand back inside the vehicle. “Were you sent to fetch me?”

“Nope. I was walking to my car to grab a bottle of water. It’s hotter than a firecracker lit on both ends out here.” She scuffed her heels on the pavement, and her impish face screwed up into a mask of innocence. “I saw you sitting here and decided to come ask if you were waiting on an engraved invitation or what.”

I snorted. Hard. It was as close to a laugh as I had gotten in too long. The alien noise rang out in the confines of the car. Flipper peered through her lashes, sporting a pleased grin, like I was a nut she had finally cracked. Or like maybe she thought I was cracked period.

She had no idea.