Deadly Promises (Tracers #2.5)(74)
As if on cue the door swung open. She stepped out and scanned the campsite, and her gaze met his across the hood of his truck.
He pushed open the door and got out. His stomach growled again, reminding him of the bowl of homemade chili he’d refused last night, not just once but twice. He’d needed something to eat, yeah. But what he hadn’t needed was another minute alone with Kelsey Quinn and her strawberry-scented shampoo. He needed that torture like he needed a hole in his head.
She walked over and planted her hands on her hips. “You slept in your pickup?”
He shook out his stiff legs and stretched his arms over his head.
“Don’t you at least have a tent or something? You weren’t even lying down!”
Gage didn’t bother to explain. He was a SEAL. He could sleep anywhere.
He nodded at the purse slung over her shoulder. “Where’re we going?”
“I’ve got some errands in town.”
“Okay. Mind if I borrow your shower?” He glanced over her shoulder at the camper. He could have sworn he smelled coffee, and his nose was usually pretty accurate.
“Help yourself,” she said. “There’s coffee in there, too. I won’t be long. I just have to meet with Sattler and get this bone sent off to the Delphi Center for testing.”
He reached into the truck and grabbed his seabag off the floor. “Gimme five minutes.”
“You really don’t need to come. Why don’t you just take your time showering and help out around the dig until I get back?”
He gazed down at her and for the first time he noticed the freckles dotting her nose. They’d been hidden yesterday underneath all the dust. Besides the same khaki shorts she’d worn yesterday, she had on a thin white T-shirt that was definitely going to mess with his head all day.
“I’m not here to guard the dig,” he said. “I’m here to guard you.”
“It’s broad daylight, and I’m going to a police station, for heaven’s sake. What could possibly happen?”
“Nothing,” he said. “Because I’m coming with you.”
Gage double-timed it in the shower, and they made the forty-mile journey into Madrone in half an hour. Kelsey wanted to get there bright and early for some reason, and he was happy to oblige her. But once in town his morning turned into an endless wait in the parking lot of the Seco County sheriff’s office. Gage wasn’t patient by nature and got especially antsy waiting around for women to do things. He minimized the boredom by people watching and adding to the intel he had on the area.
Madrone occupied a semiarid patch of land about a hundred miles west of the Pecos River. This was cattle country—hard, dry, rugged—and the people he saw in town seemed to mirror the land they worked. Despite being the county seat, Madrone was barely a spec on the map. It had three stoplights, two gas stations, and one bar, and the only motel looked to be a run-down hunting lodge on the south end of Main Street. The entire place had a parched feel to it, as if the blazing west Texas sun had sucked out all its energy.
Whatever Kelsey had wanted at this cow town sheriff’s office, Gage doubted she was going to get it.
Finally, she exited the little building, looking frustrated. It seemed to be her default expression, and he wondered if she was always this way or if it had been a rough summer.
She yanked open the passenger door and slid in.
“Where to?” he asked, firing up the engine. Hot air shot from the vents as he pulled onto Main. He glanced at the woman beside him. “Kelsey?”
She blinked at him, as if surprised by the question. “What?”
“Where to?”
Her eyes searched his, and he got the impression she still hadn’t processed his words. “Does it seem reasonable to you that in all of west Texas there isn’t one available cadaver dog?”
He gave up on getting any direction.
“I mean, how can that be possible?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
“It isn’t possible. It’s crap. Sattler’s just too lazy or too stubborn to get me someone, even after I showed him evidence we’re probably dealing with a murder here. I get a deputy. That’s it. A few hours of unskilled labor from one of his rednecks, then I’m done.”
Gage pulled into a space in front of the town’s only restaurant, and Kelsey’s brow furrowed as she looked around.
“What are we doing?”
“Getting some lunch.” He pushed open his door.
“But I need to get back. Dr. Robles—”
“Can manage fine without you. Come on, I’m starved.”
She joined him on the sidewalk and glanced at the sign in front of them, then shot him a look. “You know this place is a grease pit, right? I think everything on the menu comes with a side of eggs.”
“Sounds perfect.” He pulled open the door to the diner and enjoyed the rush of cool air.
A waitress with big blond hair seated them at a booth near the window and handed them some menus. Kelsey tucked hers behind the napkin dispenser without looking at it, then proceeded to order the tuna melt. Gage scanned the menu and ordered the Cowboy Breakfast Platter.
When the waitress was gone, Gage settled his attention on Kelsey. She’d been in here before, obviously, probably grabbing a bite to eat with some of her students. Or was there one student in particular? That guy Aaron was very territorial. Gage could feel the man watching him whenever he got within ten feet of Kelsey, which was pretty much all the time. Aaron’s preoccupation seemed to go beyond professional interest, but from what Gage could tell it was a one-way street. At the dig site, Kelsey was completely wrapped up in her work, much like right now.