Page 6 of Code Violation

“Nero! Sit anywhere you like,” Magnus called from where he was standing near the taps.

Nero glanced around and almost immediately spotted Forrest Cooper.

He sighed inwardly. Cooper had taken an instant dislike to him, a problem only because Nero was determined to interview the man—along with many other long-time Cooper Springs residents. Plus, his last name was Cooper; chances were high that he was related to the town’s founder, even more so than probably half the current denizens. Great for backstory. Hopefully, he’d wear him down.

With Nero’s history of making unfortunate choices—Austin the Ex being merely his latest—it was probably a good thing Cooper regarded Nero as if he’d stepped in something particularly stinky. It was a small solace that the first time he and Cooper had crossed paths, he’d looked at Nero quite differently. There’d been heat to his gaze, hot enough to make Nero’s dick sit up and take notice.

Nero may have usually made bad choices, but he knew when those bad choices were interested.

Today’s glare was Extra-Frosty. Boo.

“Screw it,” Nero muttered.

Sitting alone meant he couldn’t involve himself in the conversation but sitting at the bar next to Cooper wasn’t exactly a hardship. He’d just have to endure the cold shoulder.

Nero walked over to stand by the open spot. “Is this seat taken?” he asked, meeting Forrest’s dark gaze in the mirror behind the taps and various bottles of liquor.

“Nope,” the guy to Nero’s left said. “Feel free to join us. I, at least, don’t bite.” Chuckling, the guy stuck his hand out. “Tim Dennis, pleased to meet you.”

Nero had seen Tim around town with Xavier Stone but hadn’t officially met him yet. Tim wasn’t on Nero’s list of people to talk to—unfortunately, Nero thought as he checked out Tim’s infectious smile—since he was almost as new to Cooper Springs as Nero was.

“Nice to meet you. Nero Vik,” Nero said, shaking the proffered hand.

“I’ve heard you’re a podcaster. Is that right?” Tim asked while Nero made himself comfortable.

“And an ex-journalist.” Nero smiled. “Good thing I wasn’t keeping it a secret.”

“Small town,” Tim countered with a mischievous grin and eyebrow waggle.

Dammit, why couldn’t Tim be on Nero’s list? He was clearly open to conversation—and possibly more. Nero somehow recognized that Tim was trouble, but in a good way. The kind of person who might play harmless but funny practical jokes. Nero thought of one of his favorite words from childhood: rapscallion. It really was too bad Nero didn’t have a reason to interview him.

“What can I get for you today?” Magnus asked, stepping over to where Nero sat.

Magnus Ferguson had been pleasant from the first time Nero stepped in the pub. But then, he was obviously a lifelong publican and very good at his chosen profession. He’d even encouraged Martin Purdy to rent the cabin to him, for which Nero was thankful. Car camping on the Pacific Coast in the winter was no picnic.

“I’ll have a Tree Hugger, and”—he paused, considering his waistline—“the soup-and-salad combo, with the chef salad.” Sitting in front of a computer most of the day was not the healthiest thing, but it happened in epic fashion when he was deep into a story.

“How’d you get into podcasting?” Tim asked as soon as Magnus stepped away again. “Is it a full-time gig for you?” Aside from roguish, Tim was also a curious guy. Why was Nero never interested in the easygoing guys? Why was it always the broody-moody ones? The ones who inevitably broke his heart.

Everybody always asked him that too; podcasting for a living was still something a bit unusual. Maybe he needed a t-shirt: Get Your Own Podcast sounded appealing. Much like every time he ended up at the Steam Donkey, Nero knew everyone within hearing distance was listening in. It was like repeatedly auditioning for a part in the school play, only he was less likely to throw up afterward.

“It is now. I was recently laid off from my other job, although there are those who claim journalism isn’t a real job either. But podcasting’s a natural move for me, so hopefully I can make it work.” He grinned and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Gotta do something to pay for my gaming habit, after all.”

Tim laughed at that. “As one does. You have a few shows under your belt already, I heard. How do you decide what cases you look at? I bet everyone asks you this.”

“Yes, but it’s a great question. There are so many, but I tend to gravitate toward the forgotten ones, the cold cases that got little attention from the very beginning.”

Donny’s case had gotten attention at first. But when Nero couldn’t tell the police anything about kidnapper beyond that he wore a baseball cap and the van was white, they’d started to think he was covering up for Donny running away. Nobody would listen when the whole family kept saying that Donny was happy and had nothing to run away from, so the case had gone cold quickly.

“Like… there just wasn’t evidence?” Tim asked.

“That or maybe no one believed the family when a person was reported missing. Or maybe the person wasn’t reported because they’d left their family behind, so no one knew something bad happened.”

“What you’re saying is, it’s complicated.”

“Exactly that,” Nero agreed, warming up to one of his favorite subjects—forensic science. “Identifying human remains is so much more complicated than measuring femurs or looking at hip bones like we see on TV. Dental records are helpful, but only if there is someone to provide them and a match is found.” He paused to sip the beer Magnus set in front of him.

“Also, did you know that dentists aren’t required to keep records the same way hospitals are? If a dentist stops practicing, their records can be and often are destroyed and lost forever. And if the person never had dental care, then there is nothing to go by.”

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