Her Grave Secrets (Rogue River #3)(15)

“How about Magic for a name?” Stevie suggested.

Patsy turned understanding brown eyes her way. “That’s perfect.”





CHAPTER SEVEN





Zane returned the third greeting from someone who’d passed him and Stevie on the sidewalk. He’d convinced her to get out of the office to grab some lunch. Both of their heads ached from sorting through Roy’s bank and credit card records. Luckily it’d been a slow morning. No one had needed the services of the Solitude Police Department and they’d worked uninterrupted for hours.

Now he wanted a burger and something really cold to drink.

“It’s freaking hot,” muttered Stevie. “I can’t remember a summer this hot. We’re lucky we haven’t had any fires.” She smiled and nodded at another passerby. “I’ll never complain about the rain again.”

Zane pulled open the door to the Dairy Queen and sighed as the cool air blew over him. “We need better air conditioning at the office.”

“I’ve only suggested that a few dozen times.”

“Not in the budget right now.”

They ordered burgers, fries, and shakes and slid into a hard plastic booth. Zane wondered if the DQ would mind if he brought in his paperwork and set up shop here for a few hours. Looking around at the packed seats, he doubted they’d appreciate his hogging the space. He noticed several people lingering over empty wrappers and trays, loath to go back out into the heat.

“Good afternoon, Chief. Hello, Stevie.”

Zane looked up, his mouth full of burger. Faye O’Rourke and Walt Burrowes, her project foreman from the O’Rourke resort project, were standing beside their booth. Stevie greeted them both and engaged the city councilwoman in a discussion of that night’s Founder’s Day rodeo, while Zane hastily swallowed.

He wiped his mouth as he asked Walt, “How are things out at the resort coming along?” The town had high hopes that the O’Rourkes’ luxury hotel and resort would jump-start the tourist industry. Zane had his own opinion of a town crawling with tourists, but he kept his mouth shut. His budget told him they needed tourists to start spending some money in Solitude. Or else his department needed to start giving out some speeding tickets.

Walt groaned. He was a tall, lean man. Zane was always reminded of Ichabod Crane when he saw him. Something about the skinny angular neck. But Walt knew his business when it came to building. “I had to let another man go this morning. I don’t understand the shoddy work. I’ve had several inspections fail because the work wasn’t done right. The county’s unemployment is at an all-time high, so you’d think people would work harder to keep their jobs.”

Zane frowned. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s not. I’ve got guys driving over an hour from the coast because I need more help. I thought this project would be a good place for Solitude people to work, but few are interested and even fewer are interested in doing a hard day’s work.”

“Walt has high standards,” Faye added, jumping into the conversation. “He’s doing a beautiful job with the hotel. When he’s done, it’ll be a landmark people are dying to stay in.” She looked at him proudly, as if he were her own son, making Zane wonder how Katelyn felt when she saw the two of them together. Katelyn didn’t strike him as the type to share her mother’s affection with an outsider. “We’re going to add a small chapel eventually and take advantage of the destination wedding trend.” Faye met Stevie’s gaze and nodded seriously.

Zane blinked. Solitude? For a destination wedding? He thought people went to Hawaii and Cancún for destination weddings. He looked at Stevie, but she was nodding and smiling at Faye. Which was what everyone did when talking to the town matriarch. Patsy Taylor might be the heart of the town, but Faye O’Rourke was its spine . . . hidden under a baby-pink cardigan on a hundred-degree day.

“How’s the cabin coming along, Zane?” Walt asked. “Did that rainwater recovery system I suggested work out for you?”

“It works perfectly. Say, would you mind looking at some plans I’ve sketched up for another addition? I’m going to have an architect do the master plan, but I’d like an experienced eye to take a look before I give him an idea of what I want.”

“Not a problem,” said Walt. “Glad to know someone’s taking care of that old place. It sat empty for way too long.”

No one knew that better than Zane. He’d fallen in love with the money pit the first time he’d spotted it. Something about its location on the bluff, surrounded by tall firs. It had a sweeping view of the Rogue River, but had been neglected for two decades. He’d spent two years making the tiny place habitable. Now he was ready to make it a spacious home.

“So it’s confirmed that Roy Krueger was murdered?” asked Faye. “I shudder to think that something that violent happened to one of our own.” She placed a hand on her chest, her lined face drooping. “And to someone who held such a position of responsibility. Do you have any leads?”

“We’re working on it, ma’am,” Zane answered politely.

“No murder weapon?” asked Walt.

“Not yet. They’re still searching the area where he was found.”

Faye clucked her tongue. “Such a shame. This town has had too much sorrow. It was suggested at the last council meeting to cancel the Founder’s Day celebration, but I argued that we needed every bit of cheering up that we could get.”