“And you can write in the boardinghouse?”

Winona had told her that several of the women who had chosen to make Credence home were still living at the boardinghouse that had been made available for them. “Mostly. Sometimes I go out to the lake and sit on the end of the pier if there’s no one there.” Her gaze drifted to the door, and Winona’s expression changed. “Oh hello, here’s trouble.”

Suzanne frowned, turning to find a police officer—a seriously hot police officer—entering Annie’s, taking off his Top Gun sunglasses to scan the diner. He removed his hat to reveal a buzz cut mostly black aside from the scattering of salt coming through the spikes of pepper. He had sharp cheekbones, and the fuzz on his head was mirrored by a five-o’clock shadow along the hard cut of his jaw as his gaze flicked over Suzanne, then zeroed in.

It was the kind of gaze that compelled confession.

He was tall and broad, his stride long and determined if just ever so slightly uneven as he headed in their direction. Holy RoboCop, Batman. “Who is that?” she asked, turning back to face Winona.

“That is Arlo Pike.”

Suzanne heard the tightness in her friend’s voice. “He an asshole?”

“Nah. Just a stickler for the rules, which makes him a little too uptight for my liking.” Winona was more free love and artistic expression than laws and boundaries. She grinned suddenly. “And extra-special fun to rile.”

“Something tells me he’s not a man who’s easily riled.”

Winona shrugged. “That’s what makes it so much fun.”

Suzanne suppressed a smile. Winona liked to toy with men, mostly because she did not suffer fools gladly and too many guys made sleazy assumptions about what she did or tried to denigrate it or both. “He’s a hottie.”

Winona gave a brief nod, not bothering to deny the undisputable fact. “And he knows it.” She plastered a beguiling smile on her face and said, “Officer Pike,” as he stopped beside their booth.

He nodded stiffly and, in a no-nonsense voice, said, “Winona.” He clearly had no desire to tangle with her today. He turned his attention to Suzanne. “Excuse me, ma’am, I’m assuming, as you’re the only person in here who’s not a local, that the lurid green…vehicle in the back parking lot belongs to you?”

Suzanne bit down on a laugh at his clear distaste for her van. “Ethel? Yep, she’s mine.”

The officer blinked. “You named your vehicle Ethel?”

“Sure.” She shrugged. “Doesn’t she look like an Ethel to you?”

“No, ma’am.” He looked like naming cars was a damn fool idea.

“Last I checked, Officer,” Winona chimed in, “it isn’t against the law to give your car a name, is it?”

“Nope, not illegal.” Although his tone left neither of them in any doubt he considered it stupid.

“So this is a social call, then?”

Ignoring Winona’s jibe, he met Suzanne’s gaze again. “Your left passenger tire is flat.”

“Oh.” Suzanne sat up straighter. Shit… “I didn’t notice anything. It didn’t feel flat when I was driving.”