Midnight Exposure (Midnight #1)(13)
They descended into the municipal building’s basement. Hugh opened the door to the station and held it for Jayne. He escorted her into his office and filled out a report while Reed waited in the lobby. “I’ll need a copy of that picture.”
“Your computer’s a little old. It doesn’t have the right memory card slot. I’ll e-mail it to you as soon as I get back to the inn.” Jayne gave Hugh her personal information.
Ten minutes later, Hugh ushered her toward the exit. “Can you come back tomorrow and sign your statement?”
“Yes. Looks like I’m stuck here anyway.” She bit the words off, her body rigid. “I’m sorry. I don’t do the victim thing very well.”
Reed’s eyes flicked back to the scar on her face. Why did it bother him so much? It wasn’t like he knew her or was likely to ever see her again.
But he wanted to. And wasn’t that a kick in the teeth? The first woman to attract his attention in years was just passing through. Just as well. He had no place in his life for a woman, especially a woman with baggage.
“That’s OK. You’ve every right to be mad. It’s tears I can’t handle.” Hugh patted her arm, a fatherly gesture he pulled off without seeming condescending or sexist. “No one likes being a victim. In my book, being pissed off is a whole lot better than crying.”
She gave him her personal information, then turned toward the door. Outside, Reed knew the wind was whipping down Main Street as if it were the tundra. Despite the fashionably furry boots and puffy down jacket, she wasn’t dressed for a Maine winter. She’d looked cold standing in the parking lot next door; she was going to freeze her lovely ass off walking all the way back to the inn.
“Need a lift?” Reed didn’t want her to leave, especially not alone. Not after today’s weird events. “I’ll be done here soon.”
Heat flashed in her eyes for a nanosecond, but she backed away. “No, thank you. I’ll be fine.”
“Hugh’ll vouch for me. If I had any nefarious plans, I wouldn’t make the offer in the presence of the chief of police.”
“Reed’s OK.” Hugh nodded. “Damned fine carpenter.”
“Thanks anyway. I’ll manage.” She gripped her bag tighter under her arm and hurried out the door.
Reluctantly, Reed ripped his eyes off her retreating figure. Jayne’s predicament—and her killer body—were a lot nicer to contemplate than the reason Hugh wanted to pick his brain.
The chief hadn’t called him down here to talk about carpentry. No, this was about Reed’s old job, the one he’d left behind. This was about homicide.
CHAPTER SIX
“Very nice.” Hugh’s eyes crinkled as the outer door closed behind Jayne Sullivan. “Looks like she’ll be here a few days anyway. You should go for it.”
Reed turned his back on the exit—and the woman beyond the door. “If the forecast is anywhere near accurate, I’ll be snowed in for the weekend. Besides, I don’t have the energy for a woman like that.” But my God, if his past had been nice and clean and normal, he’d be doing everything possible to spend time with her.
“For Christ’s sake, man, then stock some Red Bull.” Hugh led the way into his office. “Hell, if I wasn’t married, I could find the energy for a woman like that.”
“Doris hears you say that, she’ll roast you alive, slowly.” Reed’s gaze strayed to the chief’s desk, where Miss Sullivan’s police report beckoned. She was thirty. Closer to his age than he’d thought. That fact pleased him more than it should.
“No doubt.” Chuckling, Hugh waved him toward a wooden chair that looked like it’d been pilfered from an old school. “Shame she’s had such a rough time here in town. Odd, though, don’t you think?”
“Yeah. And I’m not a big fan of weird.”
“Me either.” Hugh adjusted the knob on the space heater that whirred away in the corner. “We should keep an eye on her.”
Reed blinked away from Hugh’s comment and eased his butt onto the cracked pine seat. “Why did you ask to see me?”
Good humor bled from Hugh’s craggy face. “I appreciate you coming here. I know this is hard for you. Some hunter found one of those missing hikers from Mayfield out by the quarry. You hear about that?” The chief’s sharp gray eyes bore into Reed’s, accurate as any polygraph.
Reed knew what was coming next. He blinked away to study a row of framed marksmanship awards that hung over the chief’s head. Hugh looked and acted deceptively laid-back. It was easy to forget that under the country-bumpkin act was a cop with thirty years of experience. Unlike his weekly plug for Reed to take over the chief position, Hugh wasn’t going to let this request go without a fight.
“I did.” Reed forced the words out through a constricted throat. Five years ago he’d buried his career as a homicide detective along with his wife. “I don’t do that anymore, Hugh.”
Hugh pressed on. The cop’s voice was neutral, but anger simmered just under the calm facade. “I know you’ve got your reasons for leaving the Atlanta PD. All I’m asking is for an hour or two of your time.”
Reed weighed guilt against responsibility. On one hand he’d promised his son he was done with police work. But dead young men were a damned heavy load. For Scott’s sake he should get up and walk away, yet he didn’t protest when Hugh opened the file on his blotter.