Her voice is soft and almost velvety. Just as I remember.
“We’re more interested in your father because, well…he’s dead. We can’t interview a dead man,” she adds.
Chance stands. “My father’s lawyer is Tom Shankle. Talk to him.”
“We want to hear about him from you,” Peterson replies.
Chance turns, sets his hands on his hips. “If I were going to commit murder, I’d have done it already.” He holds up his hand. “And no, it wouldn’t have been the man in the creek. I’d have killed my father. And I’d have been justified in doing so.”
“Sounds like you’re telling me you have violent thoughts,” Peterson pushes.
“About Jonathan Bridger. That’s all I’ve got left when it comes to him. If you want to put this murder on me, you’re wasting your time, but have at it.” Chance removes his hat, swipes a hand over his hair, and sets it back on his head. “Got work to do.”
He walks off and I can’t help but grin. Yeah, he has big fucking balls since he pretty much gave the lead detective the middle finger.
I glance at Sadie, who has her lower lip gripped between her teeth. Speaking of giving someone the finger…
Austin stands. “Anything else?”
Peterson rises, adjusts his belt. “That’s all. For now.” He sets off toward the sheriff SUV parked in the driveway.
Austin nods to Sadie, and heads inside, the oversized entry door clicking shut behind him.
I turn to face Sadie full-on, tuck my thumbs in my jeans pocket so I don’t reach out and touch her.
“Miles Bridger. I didn’t know who you were.” She rubs her hands over her jean-clad thighs. “What are the odds I’d pick you? God, I should’ve just gone with one of the farmers.”
Hell, no. A fucking farmer?
“You look angry.” She rakes her gaze over my face and settles on my mouth.
I shake my head. “The idea of any other guy at that bar getting his hands on you makes me pretty mad.”
Her lips form an O.
“I didn’t think I’d see you again, but I admit, I’m pretty pleased.” I glance over her shoulder.
Peterson is leaning against the SUV, typing something into his cell. He’s not watching us, so I figure we have a little time.
“That I gave one of the prime suspects in the murder I’m investigating my panties?”
I grin and can’t help but slide my finger down her skin from the base of her throat to the curved edge of her tank top. She sucks in a breath and her breasts swell beneath her blouse.
“You gave me more than your panties,” I murmur.
“You were supposed to give them back,” she snaps, her cheeks turning a pretty pink.
Oh, she has fire. I shake my head. “Your friend didn’t take them, and now, I have no intention of giving them back. Maybe I’ll consider it, though, if you go out with me.”
Her eyes widen. “So I can give you another pair?”
“I don’t need to go out with you for that.”
She steps back and crosses her arms over her chest. Fuck, she’s hot when she’s riled. Especially now that I know who she is. That I’m definitely going to see her again. Even if it’s only in an official capacity since it seems the Bridger brothers are prime suspects, at least in her partner’s eyes.
“I want to go out with you to get to know you,” I admit. “More than your name. More than how you feel beneath my palms in a room full of people.”
“I’d lose my job. Dating a suspect is a bad career move.”