He would sit there until he worked off his mounting irritation. She’d been angry, though not necessarily at him. More like frustrated with the path their investigation was taking. The possibility of Leif being a murderer was drawing them much too close to home—Terra’s home, specifically. And that had been enough to douse the spark of growing affection between them. Terra was unwilling to even consider her brother’s involvement. She could be too close to this investigation. But there wasn’t enough information to say one way or another. Not yet.

So much for working with her today. And where would the two of them be on the other side of this? He sure hoped Owen wasn’t involved, for Terra’s sake.

He reached over to grab a slice of the bacon she’d left on the spread he’d ordered for her and grinned as he thought about that look on her beautiful face.

That had been priceless.

His cell rang. “Tanner here.”

“Hey, Jack. Deputy Sarnes. I’ve got something for you.”

Jack sat up. “I’m listening.”

“I have a friend who overheard a conversation at a bar.”

The waitress approached again and started clearing Terra’s plates. Jack eyed her. “I’m still working on it.”

She smiled and refilled his coffee cup.

“You’re still working on it? How do you even know what I’m going to say?”

“Not talking to you. I was . . . Just tell me.”

“Bartender down at the bar called Bar Wars mentioned he hadn’t seen a guy in a few days. Comes in every night and takes up a whole booth for a couple of hours. Keeps it all to himself. The regulars know not to sit there ’cause Blevins is coming. You know, like a church pew.”

Um, okay. “Go on.”

“Bartender says Blevins hasn’t been in. Says another guy took his place.”

“Yeah? So?”

“He thinks it’s strange. Something’s going on. I was going to go by and ask around myself.”

“And why don’t you? I have my hands full with the murder investigation.” And Terra Connors.

“Well, see, that’s the thing. There could be a connection.”

“So far I don’t see it.”

“Neva Bolz was in there. She met with Blevins once or twice. But if you want me to—”

“No. I got it. You did the right thing to bring this to me.”

Jack pulled bills from his wallet and laid enough on the table to cover the bill and a good tip. “What bar did you say it was?”

“Bar Wars.”

Jack knew the place. An odd establishment for this part of the world, if you asked him.

“And the bartender’s name?”

“Now, to be clear, my friend won’t want his name brought up. And if you start asking questions, the bartender will get suspicious.”