Page 40 of Light of Day
“Blessed be.”
He trotted back down the front path and dove into the refuge of his truck. Heather leaned toward him and sniffed his jacket. “Smoking on the job?”
“Jesus.” He took a whiff of his sleeve and made a face. “I didn’t even step inside. Those guys are hardcore. Andy isn’t home, but she says he’ll be back soon.”
“Let’s wait. Can we do that, or would that be considered stalking?”
He grinned. “When you’re the police, the word is stakeout.”
“A stakeout. Cool. That’s a bucket list item for sure.” She propped her stocking feet on the dashboard. “I wish we had snacks. Uh-oh, maybe I’m stoned just from smelling your jacket.”
“You know I’m a single dad, right? Snacks are my superpower.” He took off that troublesome jacket and tossed it in the back seat, grabbing his cooler bag at the same time. He unzipped it and showed her the extensive collection of cheese sticks, Ritz crackers, fruit rolls and juice boxes he kept on standby.
“That is beautiful,” she breathed. “May I?”
“Help yourself. I can restock tonight.”
By the time they were done snacking, Heather had perfected a method of combining a Ritz cracker, an apple rollup—it had to be apple—with a chunk of cheddar cheese stick. They joked about adding it to the kids menu at the Bloodshot Eyeball, then shared a Capri Sun that was so sweet his eyes watered.
“I had no idea stakeouts were so fun,” Heather said when they’d satisfied their hunger. “You really know how to show a stakeout buddy a good time.”
“You know that’s the second time you’ve called me your buddy.” He zipped the cooler bag up and stowed it in the back seat. “How did I get that label?”
“Well, what would you call it? I’m open to suggestions. I am a stakeout virgin, so what do I know?”
He laughed. “Stakeout virgin, huh?”
“First time,” she said cheerfully. “Excellent service, ten stars out of ten.”
“If you’re a stakeout virgin, how would you know what to expect?”
“Good point. Is something missing?”
On impulse—sheer, spontaneous, out-of-the-blue impulse—he leaned across the seat and touched his lips to hers. He felt her shock in the way she stiffened, and drew back immediately. “Sorry. Jesus. I don’t know where that?—”
She interrupted him by doing the same thing he’d just done, pressing her lips to his. They were warm and soft and tasted of Capri Sun. It didn’t feel like just a kiss; it felt like a moment of discovery, a…Hi there. It’s you.
“Okay,” she said when they drew apart. “Wow. I didn’t…I didn’t think…”
“That there might be something here? I guess there is.”
“I guess so.” They locked eyes for a long moment, until they were interrupted by the beam of headlights rounding the corner. Someone was arriving at the Highgroves’ house.
20
Heather heldher breath as a hulking young man in a bulky denim jacket climbed out of an old Buick station wagon. Like many of the cars on the island, it was one step away from its last chapter—a junkyard somewhere, or maybe the bottom of the ocean.
“Stay here,” Luke murmured. “I want to talk to him myself first.”
“Stay safe,” she said, though he showed no signs of being worried about this encounter.
Luke swung out of the truck and called out to Andy, who paused on his way up the flagstone walkway. When the young man turned around, the light from the porch illuminated his expression—pure wariness. Not one bit of happiness to see his buddy the constable.
Heather rolled down the window partway so she could hear what they were saying.
“Hiya bud. Do you have a couple of seconds to chat? I wanted to ask you about a photo I found.” Luke’s friendly tone seemed to put Andy at ease.
“What kind of photo?”
