“Kitchen table is good.”
They settled at the table with the open cartons of food in front of them and Chip at their feet.
“The whole family believes Tucker Bishop killed Melody to steal her purse. Did you learn anything more about his suicide?”
“I did.” Sam scooted the peppers from his kung pao into a little pile on the edge of his plate. “The security camera in the jail cell isn’t working.”
Jolene dropped her chopsticks, flicking grains of rice into the air. “You’re kidding.”
“I wish I were. The deputies checked the security footage for that row of cells, and all they saw was fuzz. There was some trouble with that camera before, which makes the malfunction slightly more believable. But why put prisoners in those cells when you’ve already had issues with the cameras? It’s not like there was no room in the cells.”
“This stinks, Sam. It sounds like someone was on the take, ordered to keep Tucker quiet one way or the other.”
“It’s not my department. I can’t order an investigation.” He picked up a piece of chicken with his chopsticks, but it fell back to his plate before he could get it into his mouth. “Problem is, Tucker was a transient. He doesn’t have anyone to demand that investigation.”
“That’s just sad.” She held out a fork to him. “I can’t stand to watch you anymore. You’re going to starve using those chopsticks.”
“I got this.” He balanced the same piece of chicken on the ends of the chopsticks and hurried it into his mouth. “Did you get a chance to visit Melody’s apartment?”
“No time, but I set myself up to go in there by offering to pack up her things. I can probably get in there legally instead of trying to sneak in, don’t you think?”
“The sheriffs will probably let you in even if the yellow tape is still up. It might still be designated a crime scene, but it’s most likely no longer active. They’ve ransacked the place by now—dusted for prints, collected blood and other DNA samples, taken her computer.” He shrugged and shoveled some rice into his mouth. “If there’s anything left for you to discover, it’s going to be something that has no significance to law enforcement.”
She held up a chopstick. “They don’t know what we know, so what has no meaning for them might mean a great deal to us.”
“This garlic chicken is making me thirsty.” Sam pushed back from the table. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Just water.”
When he brought two glasses of water back to the table, she took a few gulps and shoved her plate away. “I’m done. I meant to change clothes when I got home. I’m not going to go digging around in the desert in a skirt.”
“You had about two bites.”
“No appetite.” She crossed her chopsticks on the edge of her plate.
“You change and I’ll finish eating. Then I’ll feed Chip.” Sam held up two fingers. “No garlic chicken for him, I swear.”
“You’d better not. Dogs aren’t supposed to have garlic.” She placed a fork in front of him. “Use this, please, or we’ll be here all night as you chase that chicken around your plate.”
“I am getting kind of hungry.” He grabbed the fork and plowed into the food.
She waved her hand over the table. “You’re feeding Chip, so I’ll clean up. Leave all this for me.”
She spun around and headed toward the bedroom, averting her gaze from the bed. She couldn’t look at it without a hot blush rushing to her cheeks. She’d been so darned easy after all her resolutions, but just because she’d taken Sam back into her bed, didn’t mean she was letting him back into her heart—he had to earn his way back there.
She changed into the same outfit she’d worn to dump those bones—dark jeans, dark T-shirt and boots. She wanted to blend in with the night, just in case.
After she brushed her teeth and pulled her hair into a ponytail, she went back into the living room. “Did Chip eat?”
“Every morsel. I let him out back.” Sam flicked a dish towel over his shoulder. “Cleaned up, too.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“You know these newfangled inventions like a dishwasher and refrigerator make it easy. I just stuck the cartons into the fridge and put the dishes in the dishwasher.” He narrowed his eyes. “You look ready for a covert operation.”
“Isn’t that what this is? We’re taking this seriously, aren’t we?” She shoved her hands in her back pockets and dug the heels of her boots into the floor. “You’re not doing this to humor me, are you?”
“Humor you? It’s gone beyond that with Melody’s death.” He flipped up his shirt to expose the gun at his waist. “Does this look like I’m not taking it seriously?”
She swallowed. “All right, then. Let’s go.”
Sam went to the sliding doors and whistled for Chip. “Is his dog door closed?”
“I keep it closed at night once he’s inside.” She raised her eyebrows. “Afraid I’ll get more warnings left on my porch?”
“If all you got were a few dead snakes with arrows through their heads, I’d be happy. Just keep your house locked up and Chip on guard.”
Jolene grabbed a backpack with a flashlight, a spade, a bottle of water and some other essential items for creeping through the night in the desert.
She tripped to a stop on the porch when she saw Sam’s Border Patrol truck parked behind the rental car that had been delivered to her today in the driveway. “You’re on Border Patrol business?”
“Our agency isn’t as particular about company vehicles as yours is. Did you think I was going to take that little rental into the sand? We’d get stuck in two minutes.” He strode to the truck and opened the back. “Throw your stuff in here, and open your garage
