Page 12 of Obsession

His mouth twitched. “What about him?”

“How is he? He helped me find this apartment. My dad says he’s a really good real estate agent.”

“I wouldn’t know. Haven’t seen him in a while.” He didn’t want to hear anything about him either. Sam straightened up and put the brush away. “Is there anyone else in the picture other than Trey?”

She gulped a sip of water, and when he continued to wait for an answer, she shrugged. “No. I take it there weren’t any prints?”

“Nope, no prints,” he said and tilted his head. “What happened with you and Trey?”

Her cell phone rang, and she quickly answered it. After a few words, she moved the phone away from her ear. “It’s my volunteer. When do you think we’ll be leaving?”

“Next five minutes,” he replied.

She relayed the information and pocketed her phone. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

In other words, don’t ask her about any wannabe boyfriends. Or maybe she just wanted to get away from him.

“What’s up with you after we finish our investigation this morning?” he asked as they walked down the stairs.

“I’m expecting someone from Jackson to operate the GPR machine when Nate finishes his investigation.”

“What’re you using ground penetrating radar on?” He hurried and held the door open for her in time to see her face light up.

“I’m surprised you know what the acronym stands for.”

“I’ve used the machine on a case or two when we were looking for buried bodies.”

“Oh.” Emma made two syllables of the word as her full lips formed a perfect circle. “I’ve been assigned the task of exploring the area where the slave cabins were. And checking the two cemeteries again for more graves. It was supposed to have been done last summer, but the excessive rain canceled the operation.”

“I helped with the one conducted twenty years ago,” he said.

Suddenly Emma’s foot caught on the threshold and she stumbled. “Ah!” she cried.

Sam caught her before her knees hit the porch floor. “You okay?”

“Yes. Thank you.” She pulled her arm away. “I hate being so clumsy.”

“It happens to all of us,” he said and held her arm, guiding her down the porch steps.

“Me more than others,” she muttered. “You worked on the Southern Miss project?”

“Yes. I was in the National Park Service Youth Program. Worked as a gofer for the anthropology students when they excavated the site of the cabins and surveyed the cemetery. They even let me use one of the steel probes to locate a burial spot,” he said.

“I didn’t know that. The research I read said they found forty-three graves in the slave cemetery, but from the oral history I’ve researched, I believe there are more. I want to find them, make sure no one is overlooked.”

She stopped by her truck, color highlighting her cheeks.

“You’re excited about this,” he said.

“You bet.” A self-conscious smile tugged at her lips. “I finally get to put my American history and anthropology classes to good use.”

“Sounds like it’ll be interesting. Would you like help? Like when I’m not patrolling?” What was he saying? Had he lost his mind? Sam needed to put distance between them, not manufacture a reason to be around Emma.

“You’d do that?”

He couldn’t think of a way to backtrack. “I don’t want you at Mount Locust alone, at least not until we know more about the shooting and now the flowers.”

“I’ll take any help I can get.”

---