Page 10 of Colorado Christmas Carol
When he was out of earshot, Duke glanced at Essa. “Do you have a cell phone?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said curtly, and displayed it.
“Charged?” he purred.
She flushed. “I’ve been cooking . . .”
“Be sure you charge it before tomorrow afternoon,” he interrupted.
She glared at him. “I do not need a keeper!” she raged.
“Fat chance,” he muttered, glowering. “I’d rather keep rats.”
She started to speak, but he’d already gone toward the door after motioning for his daughter to follow him.
Essa watched them go. If looks could have wounded, that big, blond man would have been looking for medical assistance!
* * *
The next day Essa had her phone charged and ready by four, and since it was a slow day and Mabel was willing to cover for her, she had two hours free.
“But I absolutely must be back by six,” she told Dean as she slid into the passenger seat of his modest car, with an excited Mellie in back. “Mabel can’t do meats like I can,” she added with a chuckle.
“I promise I’ll have you back here in two hours,” Dean said, and smiled at her as he pulled out of the parking space and onto the highway.
“Okay. And thanks for taking us with you,” she said excitedly. “I love anything to do with forensics!”
“It’s been a hobby of mine for several years,” Dean said. “I love detective work. I suppose it comes from watching too many Sherlock Holmes movies and TV shows.”
“Me, too.” Essa chuckled. “But I read true-crime books, also.”
“So do I,” he confessed.
He was a good driver. He didn’t blow up if people pulled out in front of him abruptly, and two did, and he was calm and collected at the wheel.
“You drive really well,” Essa commented. “Much better than I do.”
“And you don’t cuss like Daddy does when people do stupid things,” Mellie gurgled.
He laughed softly. “I was taught by my stepmother.” His face tightened. “She was a perfectionist in everything. Nothing could ever be out of place, even in a drawer.”
“Did you have siblings?” Essa asked gently.
He took a long breath. “A brother. He had . . . they said he had health issues. He died when he was only three.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
He didn’t reply. He seemed to be in the grip of some terrible memory. Essa felt sorry for him. He was a nice person, and it was terribly obvious that his stepmother had been a bad parent. She hoped that his dad had been kinder to him.
“What are we going looking for?” she asked, hoping to remove that expression from his face.
“Oh!” He laughed self-consciously. “Sorry. It’s a bad idea to recall bad memories.”
“I know what you mean,” Essa said. “I lost both my parents at once, when I was twenty. It was such a good thing that I could cook! I never run out of job opportunities, even in a bad economy. There isn’t a hotel or restaurant in the world that doesn’t need cooks!”
He laughed. “Well, certainly not. Although I might not have realized that.”
“It’s small beans compared to being able to date ancient artifacts,” she replied easily. “I’m so grateful that you’re taking us with you! This is an adventure!”
