Sam pushed to his feet. “Check Tucker’s pockets for a phone.”
One of the deputies snapped on a pair of gloves and asked Tucker to remove his coat. He searched through the pockets of the coat, and then patted down Tucker.
“Nothing.”
Jolene approached Tucker, his hands cuffed behind him, his lips moving with mumbled words. Her heart ached for him. Melody would have been kind to him because Melody had a thing for lost causes.
“Tucker? Did you take Pinky’s phone?”
He shook his shaggy head and spittle nestled in his beard. “No phone. No zone. No drone.”
“Watch out, Ms. Nighthawk, we’re taking him in. We’ll ask him about the phone.”
As the deputies bagged the purse and hauled off a subdued Tucker, Jolene plopped down in the passenger seat of Sam’s car, her legs hanging over the side. “What the heck do you make of that? You can’t possibly believe that poor confused man killed Melody.”
“You said it. He’s confused, Jolene. We don’t know what’s going on his head. We don’t know what drugs he’s on. I was willing to play along up until the minute Melody’s purse fell out of his coat. He could’ve heard her come home, gone next door, asked for a beer. Maybe Melody invited him in, he saw her purse and decided to take it. She fought back, fell and hit her head.” He shrugged in a way that encompassed everything else.
Jolene pinned her hands between her knees. “I don’t know. If Tucker did kill her, why did he accost us in the parking lot? We didn’t know he was there. He could’ve disappeared with Melody’s purse. Nobody would’ve known of his presence. The cops might not have even discovered that he’d been in the apartment next door. Why implicate himself when he didn’t have to?”
“Really, Jolene?” Sam raised his eyebrows. “You’re acting like Tucker the trucker is a reasonable, rational human being, instead of a drug-and-booze-addled vagrant.”
She dropped her head to her knees. “Oh, Melody, why’d you start drinking again?”
Sam stroked her hair. “I’m going to get you home—before something else happens.”
When Sam got behind the wheel, Jolene tapped his forearm. “Is Melody Nighthawk going to be another person in that death register whose death is marked down as accidental? We need to comb through those names.”
“Not tonight. Do you need to call someone, Granny Viv, or will Wade take care of that?” He plucked a charger from the cup holder. “I don’t think this will work with your phone.”
“Wade will tell Gran. I’ll charge my phone when I get home.” She ran a finger down the thigh of his jeans. “Do you have to go back to your motel? I—I’m still rattled after everything that went on today. I’d rather not be alone—even with Chip there.”
“I had no intention of leaving you alone tonight.”
Jolene eased out a sigh and slumped in the seat. Was she inviting trouble by asking Sam to stay? Could she have him in her home and not her bed?
She’d find out soon enough.
WHEN HE WALKED into her house, Sam removed his weapon from his waistband and set it on the kitchen table. He pinched his T-shirt between two fingers and pulled it away from his body. “Every time I step into your home, there’s something wrong with my clothes.”
Jolene searched the counter for her phone charger. “What is it this time?”
“Did you get a look at Tucker and his clothing? He and it weren’t too clean, and I had to tackle the guy.” He pulled his T-shirt up to his face and sniffed it. “Yeah, this definitely has to go in the wash.”
“I should start charging you for laundry.” Jolene walked to her bedroom and plugged her phone into the charger on her nightstand.
When she returned to the living room, Chip had joined in on the sniffing. His nose was twitching as he checked out Sam’s jeans.
“Even Chip notices.” Sam patted the dog’s head. “Good boy.”
Jolene dropped onto the couch. “I can’t believe Melody is dead. Gran is going to be heartbroken.”
“Should you call her? You can use my phone again.”
“I’ll let Wade handle it. He might not even want to wake her at this hour to give her the news. We’ll see her tomorrow.” Tears pricked the back of Jolene’s eyes, and she covered her face.
Sam rubbed a circle on her back. “I wish I had confronted her about drinking when she waved us down. I didn’t want to get in her face, you know?”
“I know, and I feel like we could’ve gotten to the bar faster.” She dropped her hands. “Was cleaning the kitchen so important? Changing clothes?”
“We didn’t know what was going to happen, Jolene. Who could predict how this night would end?”
“Did she seem scared to you earlier? She did warn me.”
“If she was so frightened, she wouldn’t have gone out drinking on her own. She would’ve stayed at her brother’s place, his gated home with the security system. Wade could’ve kept her safe if she was afraid.”
“Unless she was afraid of Wade.” She twisted her head around and met Sam’s blue eyes. “Why are you hovering back there? Have a seat.”
He thumped a hand against his chest. “You don’t wanna get too close to this. I’m going to shower and put on those sweats I dug out of your closet earlier. Is that okay with you?”
“Go ahead. Do you want some tea, coffee, water?”
“I don’t need anything to keep me awake. I’m already wired. You?” He yanked the T-shirt over his head, and she gulped.
She had the same visceral reaction she’d always had to the sight of Sam Cross’s body—tingling excitement now mixed with an ache of longing.
“Same.” She pushed up from the couch, trying to put distance between her and Sam’s bare chest. “I’m going to make myself a cup of herbal tea. I’ll make you one, too. You want it. You just don’t know you want it yet.”
“If it can help with the pounding in my head that was going on before we were
