Page 68 of Fiona and the Fixer

In the kitchen, Mrs. Highcliff was eating the potato salad without putting it on a plate. Like someone holding an ice cream container and eating directly from the carton without any intention of sharing.

Dax had gone to the store and bought it deli-made but moved it into a plastic leftover container he found in mykitchen cabinets. Then he stirred in some of the jarred pickle relish.

“I heard how much you like potato salad and so I brought you some,” I said, remembering the plan.

“Who are you?” she asked before taking another bite.

“Fiona. I’m Dax’s… friend.”

“Girlfriend,” Dax said at the same time.

I glanced his way, and he narrowed his gaze. He’d said that for a reason, but I had no idea why in this case. Mrs. Highcliff didn’t seem like the women at the bookstore who wanted to jump his bones. Unless he slathered himself in potato salad first.

“And I’m Mrs. Highcliff.” Not Marcia, which Dax told me was her first name. Wow, she was a snooty one. “It is quite good,” she murmured. From her, that was probably a rave review. I had a feeling she sat at her computer and rated everything. A pizza delivery driver. Cashier at the drugstore. Pillow comfort at a hotel.

“I’ve got to get back to stuffing and stroking cream into this beaver’s pelt.” Bob held the animal in the air, then strode away. A door slammed shut and then a song from… Air Supply came on.

WOW.

Dax leaned in and whispered, “Stick to the plan.”

I needed the reminder because I was a little stunned. I’d worked with the FBI for years. Knew lots of bad guys. Lots of crazy people. But never met anyone like these two. I was a little afraid to find out if Hannah was like them. I had her somewhat built up in my mind and it sure as hellwasn’t like her parents. I had to hope maybe she’d been adopted.

I cleared my throat. “Thank you, ma’am. I use pickle relish.”

“You made this?” she asked, looking me over as if she didn’t think I could actually do it. I couldn’t, but I was willing to take one for the team here.

“Yes, I think the relish adds a little sweetness, don’t you?” I asked, sticking to the plan.

She took another forkful, then worked it in her mouth as if she was sampling fine wine.

“It is quite good.”

“I got the relish from the pickle store on Main. Have you been to it?”

“No.”

“It’s across the street from your daughter’s store.”

Her lips pinched together. “It’s a good thing her boyfriend, Jack, is a mortician. Steady work. Good job security. Always a need.”

My gaze whipped to Dax’s and he gave the slightest head shake.

Someone pounded up a flight of stairs and seconds later, came into the kitchen through a door I thought was the pantry, but most likely was to the basement.

I gave the woman a quick once over. Early twenties, dark hair pulled back in a high ponytail. A white earbud tucked into her right ear. She was dressed in leopard print yoga pants and a loose pink sweatshirt that slipped off one shoulder, eighties-style. Barefoot.

Her eyes lit up when she saw Dax. Not only lit up but went as sharp as the claws on that beaver Bob was currently stroking somewhere in the house.

Dax really was that hot, but women in Coal Springs were practically feral when around him. It had to be pheromones because my life had been crazy ever since I got the first hit of them at the convenience store.

“Hello, Dax,” she practically purred.

I did everything in my power not to roll my eyes.

As she stepped closer and closer, Dax reached his arm out, set his hand on my shoulder and yanked. I stumbled into his side, and I placed my hand on his chest for balance.

“Briana,” Dax said, keeping me close. “Meet my very serious, monogamous, gun-toting girlfriend, Fiona. Sweetheart, this is Briana, Hannah’s younger sister. She’s a trampoliner.”

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