"Then why aren't you getting anywhere?"
"Because it's hard to fill positions in shit holes, and they're reluctant to transfer people out of them."
"So what are you doing about it, besides bitching?"
He laughed. It was a sound as bitter as the emotions that were still swirling around me. "Putting out feelers. Pulling in favors." He shrugged. "Stuff like that."
The snarky part of me wondered just how many favors a cop in nowhereville could actually pull in. Not a lot, one would have thought.
We hit the main street and I turned right, heading back to the store to grab the coffee I'd told Evin I was coming out to get. Mike followed.
"You don't have to baby-sit me," I commented. "I won't go back to your precious crime scene."
Now, going back to the house - that was another matter entirely. And one he hadn't actually warned me away from. Of course, if I got caught breaking into said house, it could land me in a whole lot more trouble.
So shadow and don't get caught, that little voice inside whispered.
Which made about as much sense as pigs flying, but even so, my pulse raced at the thought. Vampires shadowed, and I wasn't a vampire.
Was I?
No, I thought, squinting up at the sun. If I was a vamp, I'd be toast by now. Yet if there was vampire blood in me, it would explain the surprising sensitivity to the sun.
"When you start heading back to the villa, I'll head back to the station," Mike commented. "Until then, consider me a thorn in your side."
"There's obviously very little to do in this town if you can waste time baby-sitting me."
"That's what I've been bitching about, remember?" He snorted softly. "The most exciting things to have happened in this town are your appearance and the damn murder."
I raised my eyebrows as I squinted up at him. "How is my appearance exciting?"
"Well, you got lost, didn't you? Gave us something to do for a day. It's a shame Evin had to find you so quickly."
Had to? That was an odd way of putting it. I climbed the steps and walked into the supermarket. "Well, I'm sorry that we cut your fun short, but I'm damn glad he found me when he did."
"I guess you would be."
There wasn't a whole lot of choice in the coffee department, so I grabbed some Kona and headed for the cash register. Mike followed - a thorn in my side, indeed. As I dragged out my wallet and paid the woman, I squinted up at him and said, "How come he was the only one in the plane?"
"His choice." Mike shrugged. "The logical search area was fanning out from where your car was crashed, not hundreds of miles south."
So how did he find me if he wasn't my twin? Something in my stomach fluttered at that thought, but no matter what I did, I couldn't catch the tail of it and make it something more. Make it a memory.
The woman gave me my change and a smile, and I headed out the door. "So why did he hire the plane?"
And where did he find the money if we were supposedly so broke we couldn't afford to go home and therefore waste the money we'd paid for the villa?
"It's the quickest and easiest way to cover a large amount of ground." He glanced down at me. "Why does this even matter? You were rescued - that's the main issue, isn't it?"
No, it wasn't, but I wasn't about to say that. For some odd reason, I trusted Harris, but I didn't trust his sidekick. There was something about him that tickled my instincts and said wrong.
"I guess it is." I forced a smile. "Now, I'd better get this coffee home before my rescuer gets too grumpy."
Mike stopped on the supermarket landing and leaned against one of the veranda supports. "Don't detour past the crime scene," he reminded me.
"Trust me, I won't."
And I didn't. But he watched me walk down the long street, his gaze a weight I could feel between the shoulder blades. Mike West didn't trust me, but that was all right, because I didn't trust him, either.