for the waitress, and prepared to slide from the booth. "Just don't crowd me, okay?"
"Gotcha."
Nell didn't look back or indicate any interest whatsoever in that other rear booth, just walked up front to pay her check and then left the cafe.
Justin Byers hadn't had much trouble fitting in since he had come to Silence a couple of months before. He'd always liked small towns, choosing them over cities whenever there was a choice to be made, and so he felt entirely comfortable here. And his duties as a detective in the Criminal Investigation Division of the sheriff's department were both familiar and absorbing—especially these days.
But the major reason he liked this town went by the name of Lauren Champagne. Deputy Lauren Champagne.
Justin had never been given to fantasies—at least no more than the average male—but he'd discovered that his subconscious had a mind of its own. He was waking up virtually every morning in a tangle of sheets with his heart pounding and with the disconcerting realization that his dreams had been more than a little… raw.
Which made it damned hard to be cool and professional when he encountered Lauren in the course of the day.
"Hey, Justin," she offered easily when they met on the sidewalk in front of the courthouse on Thursday afternoon.
"Hey, Lauren." He hastily quashed a fleeting mental image of creamy bare flesh and strove to be professional. "Where's Kyle?"
"Inside. We had some paperwork for the clerk of court." She shrugged. "What're you up to?"
"Still trying to run down all the financial info on George Caldwell. You know, for a fine, upstanding banker, he sure had tangled finances."
Lauren smiled wryly, her dark eyes grave. "Isn't that par for the course where these killings are concerned?"
"Yeah, there always seems to be a mess left behind. Except we haven't stumbled over any of George's secret vices yet."
"You think you will?"
Quite without planning to, he heard himself say, "Well, let's just say I'm a little bothered by a few things. These scattered financial records, for one, all of which I still haven't been able to track down. As for his personal accounts at the bank where he worked, there've been some regular deposits to at least one of them with no explanation of where the income originated. It wasn't salary or bonuses, and so far it doesn't look like investment income."
"Maybe his wife knows."
"Maybe, but I'm under orders not to bother her with questions."
With a lifted brow, Lauren said, "Sheriff's orders?"
"Yeah."
"Well," she said after a moment, "I'm sure he has his reasons."
Justin was worried that the sheriff did have his reasons but reminded himself that Lauren had been here longer than he had and might well feel loyal to Ethan Cole, so all he said was, "It's making things a little difficult, that's all. Caldwell knew how to handle money, and that included how to hide it."
"To avoid paying taxes, you think?"
"Maybe. Or to squirrel some of it away in case he and Sue finally decided to divorce. What she couldn't find, he wouldn't have to share."
"Not so unusual for a man contemplating divorce."
"No," Justin agreed. "But it would be nice to know for sure if that was his motive."
Lauren nodded but didn't comment, since her partner, Kyle Venable, joined them then to say dryly, "We have a couple of warrants to serve. Doesn't that sound like fun?"
"Loads," she agreed in the same tone. "Justin, good luck with your investigation."
"Thanks. See you, Lauren. Kyle."
"We'll be around," Kyle told him cheerfully, then followed his tall and striking partner back toward their cruiser.
Justin watched them—well, Lauren—until they got into the patrol car and left the courthouse, then continued on his way. He spent nearly an hour in the courthouse checking over property records, then paid a third visit to the bank where George Caldwell had been a VP.
By the time he came out and headed back toward the sheriff's department, he was feeling more than a little
"Gotcha."
Nell didn't look back or indicate any interest whatsoever in that other rear booth, just walked up front to pay her check and then left the cafe.
Justin Byers hadn't had much trouble fitting in since he had come to Silence a couple of months before. He'd always liked small towns, choosing them over cities whenever there was a choice to be made, and so he felt entirely comfortable here. And his duties as a detective in the Criminal Investigation Division of the sheriff's department were both familiar and absorbing—especially these days.
But the major reason he liked this town went by the name of Lauren Champagne. Deputy Lauren Champagne.
Justin had never been given to fantasies—at least no more than the average male—but he'd discovered that his subconscious had a mind of its own. He was waking up virtually every morning in a tangle of sheets with his heart pounding and with the disconcerting realization that his dreams had been more than a little… raw.
Which made it damned hard to be cool and professional when he encountered Lauren in the course of the day.
"Hey, Justin," she offered easily when they met on the sidewalk in front of the courthouse on Thursday afternoon.
"Hey, Lauren." He hastily quashed a fleeting mental image of creamy bare flesh and strove to be professional. "Where's Kyle?"
"Inside. We had some paperwork for the clerk of court." She shrugged. "What're you up to?"
"Still trying to run down all the financial info on George Caldwell. You know, for a fine, upstanding banker, he sure had tangled finances."
Lauren smiled wryly, her dark eyes grave. "Isn't that par for the course where these killings are concerned?"
"Yeah, there always seems to be a mess left behind. Except we haven't stumbled over any of George's secret vices yet."
"You think you will?"
Quite without planning to, he heard himself say, "Well, let's just say I'm a little bothered by a few things. These scattered financial records, for one, all of which I still haven't been able to track down. As for his personal accounts at the bank where he worked, there've been some regular deposits to at least one of them with no explanation of where the income originated. It wasn't salary or bonuses, and so far it doesn't look like investment income."
"Maybe his wife knows."
"Maybe, but I'm under orders not to bother her with questions."
With a lifted brow, Lauren said, "Sheriff's orders?"
"Yeah."
"Well," she said after a moment, "I'm sure he has his reasons."
Justin was worried that the sheriff did have his reasons but reminded himself that Lauren had been here longer than he had and might well feel loyal to Ethan Cole, so all he said was, "It's making things a little difficult, that's all. Caldwell knew how to handle money, and that included how to hide it."
"To avoid paying taxes, you think?"
"Maybe. Or to squirrel some of it away in case he and Sue finally decided to divorce. What she couldn't find, he wouldn't have to share."
"Not so unusual for a man contemplating divorce."
"No," Justin agreed. "But it would be nice to know for sure if that was his motive."
Lauren nodded but didn't comment, since her partner, Kyle Venable, joined them then to say dryly, "We have a couple of warrants to serve. Doesn't that sound like fun?"
"Loads," she agreed in the same tone. "Justin, good luck with your investigation."
"Thanks. See you, Lauren. Kyle."
"We'll be around," Kyle told him cheerfully, then followed his tall and striking partner back toward their cruiser.
Justin watched them—well, Lauren—until they got into the patrol car and left the courthouse, then continued on his way. He spent nearly an hour in the courthouse checking over property records, then paid a third visit to the bank where George Caldwell had been a VP.
By the time he came out and headed back toward the sheriff's department, he was feeling more than a little
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