“Why is she going there?” Jag asked.
“It’s where she and her girlfriend live and honestly, too many ghosts for her in this city.”
“Understandable.” He pointed to her bag. “Let’s go get something to eat, and then you can come back here and pack up your stuff.”
“Why would I pack up my stuff? I have this place booked for a month. The publisher wants extra chapters and a few other things that need to be tweaked.”
“I’ve got a better view at my place, and I work twelve-hour days. You’ll have all the peace and quiet you’ll need.”
“I’m not staying with you.” She stood and tossed her backpack over her shoulder. “I’ll move into the motel down the street.”
“Like hell. That would be even less secure.”
She followed him down the steps of the Saratoga Inn and around the corner into town and Michaels, a quaint little seaside diner that made the best crab cake sandwich she’d ever had. “Slow down and stop being such a Neanderthal.”
He glanced over his shoulder, pointing an angry finger at the inn. “You’re not staying there. Or anywhere else for that matter, alone. I have a spare bedroom. So, until I catch that fucking bastard once and for all, you’re staying with me, and that’s the end of it.”
God, she hated it when he went all alpha male macho sexist pig on her. It wasn’t sweet or endearing, and even though she knew his heart was in the right place, because deep down, he was a good man and at one time, he cared for her deeply, it still annoyed the fuck out of her. “You’re not my daddy, so you can’t make me.”
“Watch me.” He opened the door to the diner and gave her a little shove.
Of course the place was packed. The hostess raced over with a big smile. “Hi, Jag. There is a table out front if you don’t mind sitting outside. The sun is trying to peek out, and it’s not drizzling at all anymore.”
“Does that work for you?” He turned his head and glared at Callie.
She touched the center of her chest. “Oh, this I get an opinion about?”
“Not really. We’ll take the table,” he said and taking her hand, he led her through the restaurant to the outside patio.
Seagulls soared overhead, looking for easy food. A few boats filled the sound as the sun tried to create the warmth of spring. She zipped up her fleece. It wasn’t quite there yet, so she was grateful there was no breeze coming off the sound.
She took the seat with her back to the diner so she could look out over the water and enjoy the view. She and Jag had spent many lazy afternoons at this place when they’d managed a day off at the same time. They’d come out here to be away from the hustle and bustle of the city.
They also wanted to keep their relationship to themselves. At first, it had been because it was just sex.
But then it was because they were both utterly terrified of what was happening.
However, about three months before they got engaged, it became a game of how to tell people. They told Stephanie first. The look of shock and horror had been classic, and it had Jag rolling on the floor laughing. But once Stephanie spent time with the two of them, she could see the love they had for one another.
Jag waved his hand in front of Callie’s face. “Where’d you go?”
“Sorry, I was thinking about Stephanie.” No point in lying.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “But we need to discuss that note.”
The waitress stepped in front of the table, thankfully taking their order and giving her a few more minutes to collect her thoughts.
“Why didn’t you call me the second you saw that note? Instead, you compromised evidence. That makes my job harder, and you of all people know that.”
“I told you before that it was on my continental breakfast tray, tucked under a plate. I didn’t see it right away. I actually didn’t open the envelope until I was halfway out the door to see you.”
“That doesn’t answer the question why you didn’t tell me about it the second you saw me. Or better yet, tell my secretary so she could have called one of my officers on duty.”
She tossed her hands wide. “I don’t know. Call me Nancy Drew.”
“Okay, Nancy Drew.”
“You’ve always loved to mock me. Anyway, old habits die hard. And honestly, don’t you think it’s a little strange that I’m not even in town for more than a couple of days and all of a sudden the Trinket Killer decides to say hello?”
“Actually, I do think that’s odd, considering we haven’t heard from him in a year.”
“It might not be him.”
“Might not be, but someone slipped into the Saratoga Inn, wiped the security footage, and left a threatening note that basically said he was going to start killing again. Now maybe it’s a copycat. Maybe it’s someone who wants to fuck with you. Or me. Or both of us. But you look an awful lot like every single girl that was murdered, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you on my watch.”
“What about every other long-haired blond who—”
“Don’t be like that,” he said with a harsh tone. “I’m doing what I can. You saw the CSI team, and they are dusting for prints and going through that room with a fine-tooth comb.”
“Why aren’t you there controlling their every move?”
“My officer Jenna graduated top of her class. If her husband wasn’t deployed half the year and she didn’t have two little kids, she’d be living in Seattle working Vice or Homicide. She’s going to head up your case.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re pawning something on someone else?”
He tapped the badge that hung on his shirt. “I’m the chief. It’s my job to play more of a supervisory role. Besides, I’m not the arrogant dickhead I used to be. I know when I’m too
