Page 16 of Midnight & Mavericks

“That’s not the point,” she retorted, stepping closer and planting both palms flat on his desk. Her emerald-green eyes bore into his, sharp and unrelenting. “The point is that I’m limited on time, and yesterday, you said between the two of us, we’d figure this whole thing out. Well, don’t you think that’s kind of hard to do when there’s no communication between us?”

Beau leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, and gave her his most disarming grin. “Sweetheart, I’m willing to communicate with you all you want, but…there’s nothing to add since our conversation yesterday afternoon.”

“Don’t call mesweetheart,” Abbie snapped, her voice laced with irritation. “And don’t patronize me.”

He ignored her ire and her admonition. “I’m quite experienced with the police side of the law and there’s a process to these things, and right now, I’m building a profile.” He almost addedsweetheartjust to goad her but decided to take another tactic.

“A profile?” Abbie repeated, her brows furrowing. “On whom?”

Beau leaned back again, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Teddy Van Meter.”

Abbie blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Teddy? You really think he has something to do with all of this?”

“Well,” Beau drawled, “considering the man showed up out of the blue offering way more than the ranch is worth, it’s enough to raise a few flags. That kind of generosity doesn’t come without strings attached. And since you used to date him…” He let the sentence trail off, his eyes locking onto hers with an unspoken challenge.

Abbie straightened, crossing her arms over her chest. “So that’s what this is about. You think I can give you some kind of insider information on Teddy?”

“Can you?” Beau asked, his tone casual but his gaze sharp.

Abbie opened her mouth to reply, but before she could say anything, the door to the office burst open again. This time, it wasn’t Abbie making a dramatic entrance.

“Sheriff McMasters, I need some help with—” a short and stocky woman, breathless as she stepped inside stopped short the minute she laid eyes on him. Her thick blonde braid hung down the back of her worn bib overalls, one snap undone hanging to one side, and a button-up, blue-plaid cotton shirt with rolled-up sleeves.

Beau stood, his full height dwarfing the petite woman as he nodded toward her. “The sheriff’s not here. I’m Detective Elliott. Can I help you with something?”

The woman’s eyes widened slightly as she took him in, her gaze lingering just a little too long on his broad shoulders and rugged jawline. “Oh,” she breathed, a flirtatious smile spreading across her face. “I’m sure hopin’ so.”

Beau tilted his head, his lips curving into a polite but distant smile. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about being the object of her obvious ogling, especially not with Abbie standing a few feet away, looking like she wanted to crawl out of her skin.

Abbie rolled her eyes so hard, he half-expected them to tumble out of her head and land on his desk. She took a step back, crossing her arms in that way she always did when she was trying to keep herself from blowing a gasket. Beau knew the signs by now.

The blonde, oblivious or indifferent to the growing storm brewing beside her, practically shoved Abbie aside in her attempt to get closer to him. Beau resisted the urge to sigh, already sensing how this was going to go.

“Are you kidding me?” Abbie muttered, her voice low but sharp enough to cut glass.

“It’s my goat,” the blonde replied, batting her mascara-laden lashes at Beau like he was the only man on the planet. “I was just running into the store for a minute, and when I got back to my truck, Ernie had climbed out the window. He’s nowhere to be seen.”

“A goat?” Beau repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, my sweet little Ernie,” the woman said, her voice taking on a sugary lilt. “He’s such a rascal, but I just can’t stay mad at him. I thought maybe you could help me find him.” She tilted her head, letting her long, highlighted hair fall over one shoulder.

Abbie’s snort of disbelief cut through the woman’s syrupy tone. “You lost a goat? How does someone even manage to lose a goat?”

The blonde’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before she recovered, straightening her posture and fixing Abbie with a saccharine smile. “Well, not everyone has the luxury of being perfect, now, do they?”

Beau bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, but the glint in Abbie’s eyes told him she wasn’t going to let that slide. He decided it was best to step in before things escalated further.

“All right,” Beau said, towering over both women. “Let’s focus on finding Ernie. Any idea where he might’ve gone?”

The blonde lit up like a Christmas tree, clasping her hands together. “Oh, thank you, Detective. I knew you’d know what to do.”

Abbie, meanwhile, looked like she was about to combust. She threw her hands up in exasperation. “Seriously? A goat? I came here to talk about an actual investigation, and you’re getting roped into a wild goat chase?”

Beau shot her a look, one brow arching. “It’s a public safety concern, Miss Carter. Can’t have a goat running loose in town, now, can we?”

Abbie opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again, her lips pressing into a thin line. Her green eyes sparked with irritation, and Beau could tell she was biting her tongue to keep from saying something she might regret.

The blonde, apparently sensing an opportunity, stepped even closer to Beau, her perfume wafting toward him in an overpowering wave. “You’re so right,” she cooed. “Ernie could get hurt, or worse. I’d just be devastated.”

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