Page 36 of More Than Meets the Eye

“I know. I’ll keep an eye on him, but I’m more worried about NACOS and Barstow. I may have to make a trip to D.C.”

“If you do, let me know. I’ll go with you and express our agency’s … unhappiness … should anything happen to you or Tess.”

Despite everything going on, I grinned. “Aw. So nice to know you care.”

“Don’t push it, kitten.”

After a little trash talk, Alejandro hung up to go write reports—yet another reason I’ll never join a government agency—and I kept driving. When the phone rang again, I almost ignored it, but glanced down and saw it was Tess.

“Hey, cupcake.”

“No,” she said firmly. “No food words. Not pumpkin, peaches, or cupcake.”

“Not sweetiepie?”

“Do you want me to call you Brussels sprouts?”

I shuddered. “Fine. No food. I’m almost there. Sorry I didn’t call sooner, but I was on the phone with Alejandro. He still thinks?—”

“Jack, I’m so glad you’re almost here,” she said in a completely artificial voice. I called it her shop voice; the cheerfully polite voice she only used with especially difficult customers.

“What’s wrong?” I put my foot down harder on the accelerator. Risking a speeding ticket was nothing if Tess was in danger.

“Yes, you’re right,” she said brightly. “Sheriff Reynolds is here. No, just him. We’re going to have some coffee and chat until you get here. Yes, let Susan know. What’s that?”

I heard a deep male voice rumble in the background.

“He says we don’t need to involve Susan, but you know how she gets, so please let her know. Yes, thanks, honey! I’ll see you soon.”

Now I was seriously worried. Tess didn’t call me honey. She considered it a food word.

I made the rest of the half-hour drive in fifteen minutes, but Susan beat me there.

When I raced up the stairs and into the house, the sight of Susan, Reynolds, and Tess calmly sitting in the family room drinking coffee helped take my blood pressure down to a manageable level.

“We were just chatting about sports memorabilia,” Tess told me, her smile still a bit off, no matter that Susan was there. “Paul says he has an entire collection of Miami Dolphins memorabilia. He’ll show us sometime.”

“You could come for dinner. My wife is a superb cook, and I’ve got a mean hand with a grill, if I say so myself.” Reynolds grinned, evidently unaware of the tense undercurrents in the room.

“Sounds good,” I said noncommittally. “Tess, is there any coffee left?”

She jumped up. “Let me go see.”

“No, I’ve got it,” I protested, knowing she’d ignore me so I could corner her in the kitchen and find out what was going on. “Anyone need a refill?”

Susan and Reynolds shook their heads, so I followed Tess down the hall and then took her hand and pulled her out the door to the back porch. “Why were you so scared? Did you talk to Alejandro?”

She hugged me, and I realized she was shaking. “No. Carlos called. He’s convinced Reynolds is the killer, too, so when he showed up alone, I got scared. He seems so nice!”

“I’ve got some calls in to some people to see what I can find out. Let’s go back inside and get rid of him. Then we can find out what Susan knows.”

We made coffee, and I carried my mug down the hall.

Reynolds was on the phone, his face grim, but he ended the call a moment later. “I need to go. Kids in a traffic accident in town. One girl, a high school senior, might not make it. I hate when it’s kids.”

Susan and I nodded. We both had experience with that.

“Listen, I just stopped by to chat about tonight. Are you going to still bring Deputy Underhill? I think she’d be more comfortable with somebody she knows there.”

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