Page 35 of Dead Man's List

And that that fact made her stomach flutter with butterflies scared her silly.

“For you.” She shoved the pretzel into his hands. “They’re good.”

“They are. Thank you.” He bit off a huge bite. “Was hungry.”

“Me too. Julie’s working today. About a third of the way back, standing at the table with the neon-green sweaters.”

“This store always gives me a headache. The colors are like a bad acid trip.” He glanced at her, his eyes going wide. “Not that I’d know what an acid trip is like.”

She laughed. “I believe you. For the record, neither do I. But let’s agree to never ask Connor, because I think he was wilder in his youth than we were.”

“I was boring. Just like now.”

Her heart softened. “Steady.”

He shrugged. “Same as boring.”

“Not even close.” She finished her pretzel and threw the wrapper away. “Ready?”

He shoved the last of his in his mouth. “Um-hm.”

She laughed again, then sobered. “She doesn’t know, I don’t think.”

Sam sighed. “I agree. I’ll be quiet until you need me.”

That she was positive she’d need him scared her, too.

Kit didn’t like needing people. Needing people left you open.

But Pop was always telling her to open up. Maybe this was what he meant. It shouldn’t be so damn terrifying, though.

Squaring her shoulders, she cleared her mind and entered the store, wincing at the volume of the music. “Should have worn earplugs,” she muttered to Sam.

“I brought some,” he muttered back.

She looked over at him. “You did not.”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “Did so.” He pulled a packet of disposable earplugs out of his pocket.

Kit had to clear her throat and think about death so she wouldn’t laugh.Julie doesn’t know. Have some respect.

The young woman in question looked up at that moment, her eyes going wide. “Can I help you?”

“Are you Julie Sparks?” Kit asked.

Julie nodded warily. “Why?”

“I’m Detective McKittrick with SDPD. This is my colleague, Dr.Reeves. Can we talk to you for a moment?”

She seemed to deflate. “Let me talk to my manager. Wait here.”

“She knows something,” Sam said quietly as they watched her walk to the back of the store.

“Yep. Feels like Carla Norton this morning. Like she was expecting bad news. Did you find any news on Carla’s sons?”

“No, but the teens are spreading the word. It’s only been a month. It might end up okay.” Sam was optimistic that way.

Julie returned, her feet dragging. “She says we can use the storeroom, but I can only have fifteen minutes.”

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