It was just weird.
***
Ty was waiting for her when she came out, just like he’d said he would.
And he wasn’t just waiting for her, he was chatting with Betty, which basically no one ever managed to do. And Betty was smiling. It was uncanny.
When Misty came in, he looked up, his own smile broadening until it threatened to take over his face. “All done?”
“Just about,” she said, trying to keep her tone businesslike. What was it about this man? “I’ll need to read over your statement, just to be sure that our accounts match up.”
“Right here,” Betty said, handing it over.
Misty scanned down the statement, finding to her pleasant non-surprise that it was detailed, coherent, and absolutely accurate as far as she remembered. “Thanks,” she told Ty when she was finished. “We don’t usually get witness statements this thorough.”
; “I’m a social worker,” he said. “Trained to observe and report.”
That was a surprise—although, looking at his cheerful, friendly manner, Misty thought it made sense. He seemed like the kind of man who’d be comfortable talking to anyone, no matter where they were in their life, or what struggles they might be dealing with.
“And you’re in town visiting your friends? On vacation?”
He hesitated. “That’s right.”
It was the first time he’d pinged her as less than completely honest. She frowned, and he noticed.
“It’s a sort of a mandatory vacation,” he said, with an air of confession. “My boss kicked me out to get some R and R.”
Misty couldn’t imagine not wanting this smiling, capable man working for you. Maybe his job had some kind of prescribed vacation policy. “A good place for it,” she said finally.
Ty nodded. “It’s beautiful up here. I was here once before, for my friend Cal’s wedding, and I’d never seen scenery like that before.”
“Where are you from?”
“LA. Born and raised.”
Los Angeles might’ve been a foreign country, as far as Misty was concerned. In fact, as close as they were to the Canadian border up here, Los Angeles was probably more foreign than a foreign country.
“Biggest city I’ve ever been to is Missoula,” Misty admitted.
Ty sighed. “Maybe not a bad decision, all around.”
There—she could a see a hint of what he might’ve been showing his boss. There was an air of frustration, of weariness, just barely peeking through.
Then he focused on her again, and it disappeared. “I haven’t spent much time in small towns. Is there a good place to eat around here? I remember there was a diner or something, last time—”
“Oliver’s,” Misty finished. “Yeah, Oliver’s is good. It’s the best place for locals, hardly any tourists.”
“Can we continue this conversation there?” Ty asked, with another one of those compelling grins.
Misty looked over her shoulder. “I’m still on shift—” Which was her only real objection, she realized. She wanted to keep talking.
He waved a hand. “And I’ve got to go tell the guys I didn’t run into a ditch on the way to their house. After you’re done?”
“All right,” Misty found herself saying.
This smile was slower. “Good.”