She lifted her chin, her green eyes meeting his. “I like dinner.”

“Me too.” Charlie smiled. It felt goofy, probably looked that way too, but he couldn’t help it. The zing from earlier morphed into electrical pulses that were impossible to ignore. “There’s a restaurant I’ve heard is pretty good—”

“The church benefit,” Lane said, her eyes flicking over his shoulder. “Tomorrow night.”

It took a second before Charlie remembered the benefit for Sydney Donovan’s family. Amid the rumors and uncertainty, Amanda and Trevor Donovan refused to allow Sydney’s murder to define her, and together with the church they were having a benefit to raise money in their daughter’s honor to support the arts program at the community center in Walton.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” And then she nodded, almost like she was reassuring herself it was the right answer. “Pick me up at my place.”

Lane hurried down the steps and Charlie stepped back into the station—smiling.

“Deputy Lynch.”

Sheriff Huggins’s gruff voice grabbed Charlie’s attention. He spun around and found the man watching him, along with a few of the deputies who wore amused expressions. “Jolene Carson is waiting in the conference room.”

“Yes, sir.” Heat radiated from the center of Charlie’s chest, up his neck, and across his face.

Charlie looked down at the tray and smiled again. He had a date.

Jolene Carson hugged her arms close to her body. She shivered and Charlie dropped his gaze to the notes in front of him. Was she cold or nervous? The muggy warmth of the early summer day seemed to seep through his uniform despite the thrumming air conditioner blowing full blast.

“Would you like me to turn the air down?”

The girl shook her head, letting her long blonde curls fall over her shoulders like a blanket.

Charlie studied her clothing. Tiny shorts and revealing tops were the fashion, but they didn’t appear to do anything for comfort. Jolene kept adjusting the straps falling off her shoulder or tugging at the barely there denim shorts every few minutes. His eyes shifted to Ms. Carson. Her attire wasn’t much better. Nothing left to the imagination.

“Deputy Lynch.” Ms. Carson’s voice dripped with annoyance. “How much longer? I don’t want Jolene to miss too much school.” With a manicured finger, she tapped the chunky rhinestone watch on her thin wrist.

“Just a few more questions.” It had taken Jolene and her mother three weeks to fit this interview into their busy schedules. A little too long, in his opinion, for someone whose best friend was killed the night they were supposed to be together. He went over the notes. “I want to make sure I’ve got everything so you don’t have to come in again. Don’t want you to miss any more school.”