Sunset Beach(74)

As she made notes, and between calls, she toyed with the flash drive, turning it over and over between her fingertips, anxious to view its contents.

Drue finally made a dash to the break room just after noon, with the flash drive stowed in the pocket of her work sweater for safekeeping. She found Jonah at the coffee machine, dressed in his typical pressed khakis, dress shirt and tie, staring morosely down into his blue and orange University of Florida mug with the Gator handle.

“What’s wrong?”

“This isn’t mine,” he said.

“Who else would buy a coffee mug that ugly?”

“No. I mean, it’s my mug, but this isn’t my Keurig pod. I had a whole stash hidden in my desk drawer, but somebody apparently raided it last night and yoinked all my pods. This is the office sludge.”

“Is nothing sacred?” Drue said, her tone mocking. “Shall I call the cops?”

“I don’t like the idea of somebody rifling through my stuff, okay? I mean, if you want my coffee, just ask. Don’t go stealing.”

“It wasn’t me,” Drue said. “I drink whatever’s free and available.”

He shook his head, still annoyed. “Are your calls as nutty as mine this morning?”

“Oh yeah. I just had a guy call and claim he was rear-ended by the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile.”

“Okay, that could be lucrative,” Jonah said. “Or just plain lewd.”

“Except that there were no witnesses, he didn’t file an accident report and, oh yeah, the guy admits he had his driver’s license lifted two years ago for multiple DUIs.”

Jonah sighed and dumped the remains of his coffee into the sink. “It must be the full moon. I had a lady who wants to hire Brice to sue FedEx because one of their trucks cut her off in traffic and when she slammed on the brakes her dog got whiplash.”

Drue giggled despite herself. “Seriously? What kind of dog?”

“German short-haired pointer. She claims he would have been a best-in-show contender in the Westminster Kennel Club, but since the accident, he refuses to point. Now she says she’s missing out on thousands and thousands of dollars’ worth of stud fees.”

Jonah glanced up at the clock on the break room wall. “Okay, I gotta get back in there.” He started toward the door, but then turned and came back.

“Hey, um, are we good?”

“I guess. Even though you apparently found a way to resurrect that slip-and-fall case that should have been mine.”

His face flushed. “I told Wendy she should send the client back to you. It was just dumb luck that when she called the second time the call was routed to me.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Drue said lightly. “The way it worked out, Zee asked my dad if I could help interview a witness to that accident. It was a pretty cool experience.”

“I’m glad. You know, I hate the way things started out with us. That first night at Sharky’s? I swear, Drue, that’s not who I am. I know you think I’m your typical horndog, but I’m not.” He lowered his voice. “I wish you’d give me a do-over.”

“Do-over?”

“Let me take you out. We start from scratch.” He stuck out his hand. “‘Hi, I’m Jonah. Actually not the random asshole you met at a bar who was trying way too hard to prove to the boss’s daughter that he was way cool.’”

He left his hand extended. “This is where you go, ‘Hi, I’m Drue. Nice to meet you, Jonah. And yes, I’d love to go out with you for sushi. Or steak. But not shots. Never, ever shots again.’”

He raised an eyebrow. “Helloooo? Drue?”

“Don’t rush me,” she said. “I’m thinking about it.”

The break room door opened and Ben strolled in, clutching his coffee mug. He looked from Drue to Jonah. “What’s going on? Am I missing something?”

The mood was broken.

“As a matter of fact, we were just discussing a very serious crime wave,” Drue said. “Thinking about getting Zee involved and asking him to launch an in-house investigation.”

“Really?” Ben said, pushing his glasses off the end of his nose.

“It’s the Keurig heist,” she said, gesturing at Jonah’s empty mug.

“Thinking it’s an inside job,” Jonah said. He nodded toward Drue. “Let me know your thoughts, okay?”

Ben watched his coworker exit. “Thoughts on what?”

“Um, nothing, really. We were just comparing notes on all the crazy calls we’ve gotten this morning. I had a Wienermobile incident, he had a dog whiplash call. How’s it going with you?”

“About the same,” Ben said. “I fielded about a hundred calls, but nothing that bizarre. How goes it with your investigator training? When do you do another ride-along with Zee?”

“Not sure,” Drue said. “Listen, I gotta get back to work before Wendy decides to find some new and different way to torture me.”





36


The St. Pete Beach Public Library was quiet. Most of the winter resident snowbirds had fled back north with the coming of warmer weather.

Drue waited at the information desk while a heavy-set librarian with a blue Mohawk and polka-dot bow tie checked out a thick stack of picture books for a harried mom with two preschoolers.