She moved to the door, and he got a little panicked. What if he never saw her again? “You shouldn’t stay alone.”
“I won’t.” She smiled. “Don’t leave town without saying good-bye. If I’m not at my apartment, I’ll be at the elementary school.”
His own smile froze.
One place he could never go.
*
A trapped expression shrouded the detective’s face before he turned away. Why had I thought he was interested in me?
I’d never been good with men. Considering I’d known all the males in town from the cradle, you’d think I would be. But I fit in with them no better than I fit in with anyone. In New Bergin each kiss was cause for a bulletin. Which made me self-conscious on every date that I’d had. Not that there’d been all that many.
I’d had sex. Once. He who shall not be named—at least the ass had gone off to college and never come back—had told everyone my breasts were even bigger than they looked. No one else got to discuss—or touch them—again. Except me.
I texted Jenn. Need a ride from my parents’ place.
My phone buzzed with a return text before I’d reached the ground floor. On my way.
What would I do without her?
My father stood at the kitchen sink, staring out the window into the night. “Why would Chief Johnson bring in a homicide detective from New Orleans?”
A good question. One I hadn’t thought to ask.
Bobby was a murder cop, and we’d had a murder, but why him? Just from the questions he’d asked he was unfamiliar with the area, its people. What possible help could he be?
Beyond improving the scenery.
“You’ll have to ask Chief Johnson.”
My father’s lips pursed. “It’s disturbing.”
I wasn’t sure what he was referring to, but since there was plenty to choose from I decided to nod.
Headlights flashed across the ceiling as Jenn arrived. My father reached for the pistol he kept in the cupboard. The back of my neck prickled. I’d never known him to be jumpy before.
“It’s Jenn.” I headed for the front door.
He followed, reaching for my hand. Surprised—my father wasn’t much for PDAs—I reached for his too. He pressed the pistol into my palm. I tried to draw back, but he folded my fingers around the grip. “Take this.”
“No, thanks.” Guns gave me the wiggies.
“I’ve got another one.”
Since when? Certainly firearms were commonplace in the Big Woods, but as far as I knew he only owned the pistol in my hand and a shotgun for hunting. Maybe that’s what he meant. If I had the pistol, he had the shotgun. Except I didn’t want the pistol.
“I don’t have anywhere to put it.” I’d left with my keys not my purse. Although I wasn’t sure the weapon—a forty-four Magnum—would fit in any handbag I had, and the idea of walking around with a gun in my handbag was so ludicrous I nearly dropped it.
“This is New Bergin,” I said. “We have no streetlights and three cops for a reason.”
“Which is probably the reason we also have a murderer.” At my frown he continued. “It’s dark and no one’s watching.”
Was he trying to be funny? He never had before.
“I’ll be careful,” I said, and tried to give back the pistol. He ignored me and went into the hall. Anyone who picked me up, girlfriend or boyfriend, came to the door. My father insisted.
He was probably right. He always knew that whomever I said I was leaving with was actually who I left with. In this town that went a long way toward avoiding trouble. If I left with Brandon Jensen, Brandon Jensen had damn straight better bring me back without a scratch, or John Larsen would be speaking to every Jensen he knew.
Jenn had just lifted her hand to knock when my father opened the door.
“How you be, Mr. Larsen?” She stepped inside, glanced up. “Holy fricking crap,” she said.
Bobby Doucet stood at the top of the steps, shirt unbuttoned, hair a bit mussed, feet bare.
Holy, fricking crap indeed.
Chapter 4
Bobby had been getting undressed when he heard Raye and her father talking. Curious, he’d stepped into the hall. When the door opened, he’d moved closer to see who had come to pick her up, hoping more than he had any right to that it wasn’t a guy.
Not a guy, but a tiny blond woman who looked right at him and smiled a smile that would launch a thousand ships. He was more interested in the gun in Raye’s hand. The sight was so baffling he blinked a few times, but the weapon stayed right where it was.
“Button your shirt, Detective,” Mr. Larsen snapped.
“Not on my account,” Blondie murmured.
“Why do you have a gun?” Bobby descended to the foyer as he did what John Larsen had ordered.
Raye glanced down, frowning as if she’d forgotten she held the weapon, a forty-four Magnum revolver, which had to weigh two or three pounds. She shoved it at her father. “Take this.”
The man pushed it back in her direction. “No.”
Bobby took the Magnum away from both of them. “Whose is it?”
Raye pointed at her father.
“She’s not going back to that apartment without protection,” Larsen said.