Bone Harvest - Mary Logue [55]
This was a test for him, he decided. “Sure. I like eating at the bar. Sorry you have to go back to work.” He hoped it was safe to say he was sorry.
She smiled at him. “I’m sorry too. The guys from DCI were supposed to show up late afternoon, but they called a couple hours ago and now they’re not going to be here until around eight. We’re meeting with everyone and I need to be there.”
“Sure. Let’s order. Do you want a drink?”
“Not a good idea. I need to keep my wits about me with these fellows coming in.”
“The competition?”
“I hope not. I’m sure they’ll be a big help. But they’re going to assume we don’t know what we’re doing and they’re going to want to take over. They don’t know I’ve worked much bigger cases than this.”
“You’ll just have to tell them.”
“No. I’ll have to nudge the sheriff to tell them. I can’t be seen bragging about my career. Not proper.”
“Police etiquette.”
“Exactly.”
They ordered—Claire just wanted soup and salad, but Rich went for the salmon. He had worked hard and was hungry for a real meal.
As soon as the waitress left, he turned to Claire and asked, “How’s this latest case going?”
“You know, for once I’d rather not talk about it. My head is bursting and I’d like to just have a pleasant meal with you. I’ll probably call you at one tonight and want to talk, but right now I need food.” She pulled her hair back from her face and stretched her neck.
He reached up and rubbed her neck. She pushed into his hand and he could feel how tight she was. “Listen, my timing wasn’t good last night.”
She pulled away from him and took his hand in hers, squeezing it. “Rich, your timing was fine. I forget that you don’t really understand the nature of my job. You know, Steve and I were together so long and we got married before I was even on the force. My police work was part of the fabric of our marriage. It was a given. Sure, he didn’t like it sometimes when it interfered with plans we had, but hey, I didn’t like it either.”
She paused and then looked around the room as if she were trying to sort out where she was. “It’s much easier down here in Pepin County. My life is much more predictable than it was in Minneapolis. But these incidents—the stolen pesticides, the poisonings—this is bad. This is as bad as it gets. This guy is holding the whole county hostage, and we’ve got to find him quick.”
She paused and so he quickly said, “I agree with that. I wouldn’t stand in your way.”
“No, I know, but I need to focus all my wits and desires in order to figure this out. I need to stop this man. And I can’t think about anything else. I probably shouldn’t even be here having dinner with you, but a girl’s got to eat.”
“Why don’t we just table it?”
“Really?” She sounded so hopeful.
“Yeah, pretend it didn’t happen until you have your mind and your desires back, especially your desires.”
A blond waitress placed the salads that came with their meals in front of each of them. They thanked her.
Claire laughed. “This looks great. I’m hungry.”
“That’s a good sign. My mom told me to mention a guy named Carl Wahlund to you. She said she remembered people suspecting him of coveting his neighbor’s possessions.”
“I’m on it.”
CHAPTER 17
Even driving slightly over the speed limit, Claire was ten minutes late getting back to the sheriff’s department. When she walked into the meeting room, she was glad to see only familiar faces look up at her. The DCI agents hadn’t arrived yet.
The sheriff was writing on the white board at the front of the room. He loved using the board and he was good at it. He could have been an elementary school teacher. He had Schuler Murders written at the top of the board and underlined, then halfway down the board: July 1st: Pesticides Stolen. He was writing something else below that.
“Anything new?” she asked.
“Relatively quiet here today,” the sheriff answered.
They were all on tenterhooks, waiting to see if the pesticide man would decide to destroy anything else today. She wasn’t sure if she should