A Deep and Dark December(33)

Just then Mabel’s cell phone beeped. She looked at the screen and let out a squeak before pressing it face down on the top of her desk. “How’d you know she was going to do that?”

“I’m a goddamned rocket scientist,” Graham muttered as he headed toward his office. He paused in the doorway. “Come in, Erin. We can get a head start and get you to work that much sooner. Send Elmer in when he gets here,” he told Mabel.

“Sure thing, boss,” she responded, turning back to her phone and the two new incoming calls.

Erin followed Graham, nervous about being alone with him. After the way they’d left things last night, she wasn’t sure where things stood between them. Would they go back to being little more than acquaintances or would their changed relationship carry over into the new day?

Graham waited for her to enter his office, then closed the door behind her. “Goddamned small town,” he mumbled to himself, then to her. “Have a seat while I get set up. I’ll keep it brief so you can be on your way.”

His curt business tone threw her for a moment, but then what did she expect? She’d set the terms and boundaries of their relationship last night. He was only following them. This is what she wanted. She had no right to the disappointment that crept over her.

“Thank you.”

He didn’t respond as he gathered a digital recorder and small spiral bound notebook. He settled at his desk and flipped through the notebook, making notes on another sheet of paper. She focused on the room rather than on Graham where her gaze seemed to want to fix.

There was really nothing to it, she realized with some surprise. She hadn’t paid much attention the night before, but its utter starkness was depressing. There were no personal photos unless she counted the portraits of the five Sheriff Dorans that had come before, hanging on the wall behind him. No certificates, no doodads on the desktop, no funny coffee mug or breath mints… nothing to give away whom the office belonged to.

He could drop everything and leave at any moment and not have a thing to pack. Anyone could sit down behind the carved mahogany desk and pick up where he’d left off. Sadness for him edged out her earlier disappointment. He had one foot in, one foot out and wasn’t likely to keep either in San Rey.

“Knock it off.”

She started at his voice. “What?”

“I haven’t had enough coffee yet to deal with whatever you were just thinking about.”

“What does your tattoo mean?”

His surprise at her question quickly morphed into annoyance. “That’s it. I’m firing Jessica’s ass as soon as she gets it back here.”

“You could just lock your door.”

“If there was a lock on it.” He leaned back, the creak of his chair echoing off the nearly bare walls. He watched her with tired eyes that missed nothing. “It’s the Chinese word for protector. I celebrated my graduation from the police academy more than I should have and woke up with it the next morning.”

“You just have the one?”

His lazy, half smile lit small fires she struggled to bank. “Maybe someday you can answer that question for yourself.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by Elmer’s entrance.

Mabel came in on his heels, bustling efficiency. “Everything’s all taken care of,” she said. “Chris Farnsworth is now fully clothed, Pax is on his way out to Ned’s, and Jessica is working on the filing. I had a chat with her. Not to worry, she’ll take the time off her lunch. Is there anything you need, Sheriff?”

“Locks,” Graham said under his breath, then spoke loud enough for Mabel to hear. “No interruptions until we’re done here.”

“You got it, Sheriff Doran.” Mabel closed the door after her.

“You’d better not have started without me,” Elmer said, dropping into the chair next to Erin with a grunt.

“Wouldn’t think of it.” Graham pressed a button on his recorder and stated the salient information for what he called the Lasiter case. “You don’t have any objections to this interview being recorded, do you?” Graham asked Erin.

She shook her head.

“I need your answer audible for the recording.”

“Oh. No. I don’t have any objections.”

*

Graham took her through the events of the day before, watching carefully for signs he was pushing her too hard. She held up. The pride he felt in that both pleased and annoyed him. He found himself focusing too often on her lips and the way they shaped words. He imagined too vividly that mouth whispering against his skin and crying out his name. Her lips pressed flat, smashing through his daydream. He realized she was waiting for him to speak.

He gulped cold coffee and cleared his throat. “Did you ever have any dealings with Deidre Lasiter?”

“Enough to say hi now and then when she lived in town. We weren’t friends or anything, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Did you know any of her friends?”

“A few. We didn’t travel in the same circle.”

“Give me some names.”

“Janet Weidlin, Beatrice Farnsworth, and Susie Philpot. We have… had the same hair stylist down at the Clippity-Do-Da. Candy Dougherty.”

“I can arrange for you to talk to my granddaughter, Beatrice,” Elmer said. “In my presence, of course.”