No, that wasn’t a heated look of interest, more of a sizing up. “Well, Mr. FBI, how about you amble over there and work your dark magic to see if I should be worried about her pulling out a handgun and filling me full of bullets.”
“From the way that dress is clinging to her, the only thing she could be hiding is a derringer.”
Ronnie groaned. “Blah, blah, blonde with big boobs, blah. I need to get back to work.”
“I’d advise you to stay put.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because she’s walking this way, and judging from her glare you might want me to act as your backup.”
“She’s what?” Ronnie turned as the woman joined them. With the sprinkling of freckles covering her cheekbones and her heart-shaped face, she looked even cuter up close.
“Are you Veronica Morgan?” she asked, a scowl pulling down the corners of her mouth.
Mississippi was right. The blonde was clearly not a fan, but Ronnie was damned if she knew what she’d done to piss off the stranger. “Who’s asking?”
She crossed her arms. “I’m asking, that’s who.”
“Yeah, I’m Veronica. Who are you?”
“Elizabeth.”
Keeping in mind that she was currently representing The Shaft, Ronnie forced a smile. “Nice to meet you, Elizabeth. Is there something I can get you?” She held up her order pad. “A drink or something for lunch?” Maybe Elizabeth suffered from low blood sugar and was merely frustrated with the current lack of wait staff.
“I’m not here for pleasure.”
Ronnie took a step backward, edging closer to Mississippi. He’d better have his gun handy, because something in the broad’s eyes made Ronnie wonder if she was about to get stabbed by an ice pick. “Why are you here, then?”
“I wanted to let you know that I’ve come home.”
Had someone elected Ronnie to be the president of the Welcome Wagon’s local chapter and forgotten to tell her? “Great, welcome home.”
“You don’t understand.” Elizabeth took a step closer. Her sweet-smelling perfume didn’t match her bitter expression. She raised her voice above Dolly Parton, who was singing about slogging from nine to five for a living. “I’ve come home and I’m going to take back what’s mine.”
Ronnie shot a frown at Mississippi, wondering if he was making any more sense out of this woman than she was. “What’s that have to do with me?”
“You have something that belongs to me and I want it back.”
The diamonds? Ronnie’s heart stopped beating for a couple of panic-filled moments. “What do I have?”
“My husband.”
“Lyle?” Surely the greedy bozo hadn’t tried to marry another woman while fake-married to Ronnie and really married to his Wyoming wife.
“No. I’m talking about Grady.” Elizabeth’s frigid smile gave Ronnie the chills. “You know, Sheriff Harrison, the man you’ve been screwing for the last month.”
Mississippi chuckled behind Ronnie. “Oh, boy.”
“You’re that Elizabeth?”
“Yes, Grady’s wife.”
Ronnie had heard the story about Elizabeth from both Grady and his aunt Millie, who periodically acted as Ronnie’s sidekick when it came to sneaky detective work. Elizabeth had been screwing around on Grady while he was busting his buns to climb through the ranks of the Cholla County Sheriff’s Department. While playing hide the pickle with another man, she’d gotten pregnant. But her loverboy didn’t have insurance, so she’d pretended the child was Grady’s until it was born. After a paternity test proved the real father wasn’t Grady, she divorced him and left the state with her child and lover. With Grady being a public servant, Elizabeth’s soap opera–style song and dance had been the talk of the county for many, many moons.
The humiliation of it all drove Grady to avoid relationships until Ronnie had come along, tried to bribe her way out of a speeding ticket with fake jewelry, and ended up having hot handcuff sex with the sheriff in The Shaft’s supply room. The rest was all flashing cop lights and steamy date nights for the two of them since they’d officially started being a “couple” right before Thanksgiving.
If Elizabeth thought she could squirm back into Grady’s life, she had another think coming. Ronnie might not be squeaky clean and respectable enough to ever be a county sheriff’s wife, but she’d be damned if she’d let this blond bitch screw him over again. “I do believe you divorced him, Elizabeth, according to the stories I’ve heard.”
“Divorce is nothing more than a word on a paper. In our heart of hearts, nothing will come between us other than death.”
“Well, isn’t that heart-bustin’ sweet,” Mississippi said, still chuckling.
“That’s what we vowed on our wedding day,” Elizabeth continued. “And I’m back now to make sure Grady follows through on his promise.” With a final scowl at Ronnie, Elizabeth turned and left, flouncing out the door without a backward glance.
Holey underwear! It appeared Katie wasn’t the only crazy blonde in town anymore.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Mississippi asked, scratching the dark stubble on his jaw.
Ronnie scoffed. “That I have yet another killer keeping me dead center in her sights?”
“Nah, Grady’s ex seems borderline deranged, but I don’t detect the urge to kill in her.”
Apparently he hadn’t been looking deep enough into Elizabeth’s brown cow eyes, because from Ronnie’s front row seat, the woman had plans to bury someone alive without leaving a safety bell to ring for help.
“What are you thinking?” she asked Mississippi.
“That this dusty corner of Arizona is about to have a replay of the O.K. Corral, only this time the Morgan sisters will outshine the Earps as the stars of the show.”
* * *
“I’m getting real tired of dealing with old screws,” Natalie Beals said, lowering her cordless power drill. She sat back on her heels, growling at the lack of progress she’d made over the last hour this afternoon.
“I think she’s talking about you.” Chester snickered from his lawn chair in the peanut gallery, elbowing his old Army buddy, Manny Carrera, who was cracking open a beer next to him.
The two troublemakers reminded Natalie of the Odd Couple. Manny was slick and handsome in an older Jimmy Smits sort of way, where
