Confessing to the Cowboy - By Carla Cassidy Page 0,15

from the table. Nothing would get accomplished by him sitting here thinking. He needed to do something in order to advance the investigation.

And he needed to find a home for Twinkie.

She was getting under his skin with her tiny kisses and happy dances. Whenever he sat anywhere in the house she managed to get into his lap and curl up with a contented sigh. He’d actually dressed her in a little furry leopard print dress this morning, worried that she might get too cold in the drafty old farm house where he lived.

He should have a bulldog or a German shepherd, if he was going to have a dog. Not some designer diva who already thought she owned not just his house, but him, as well.

With a change in the direction of his thoughts, he decided to head to the café for breakfast and to check out the crowd. While he ate a couple of eggs sunny-side up he might see somebody who piqued his interest as a potential suspect or find out something Mary had thought about while they’d been apart.

When he arrived at the café the breakfast rush was in full swing. The parking lot was almost full and most of the table space was taken. Cameron rarely sat at a table, preferring a stool at the counter where Mary served the customers.

Cameron moved to an empty stool and smiled at Mary, who looked tired and slightly overwhelmed by the amount of people inside.

A glance around the place let him know only three regular waitresses were working the large floor. Normally there were five or six during this time of the morning.

Mary greeted him with a cup of coffee and a forced smile. “We don’t usually see you here at this time of the day,” she said.

“You’re going to be seeing me a lot around here,” he replied. Her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she’d already been weeping that morning.

“Casing the joint?” Her smile didn’t quite reach the center of her eyes.

“Casing the customers,” he replied. “Are you doing okay?”

She nodded, the artificial light overhead sparkled in her pale blond hair, accentuated by the black Cowboy Café T-shirt that clung to her full breasts and emphasized her small waist. “Fine, although three of my waitresses called in sick this morning and I have a feeling their illness is going to be permanent.”

“They’ll come back once we solve the crime,” he said with an optimism he didn’t quite feel. His town would be scarred after this. People would talk for years to come about the reign of terror when good women working at the café had been killed. He hated that, he hated that already the killer had left a lasting mark on Cameron’s hometown.

“You want some breakfast?” Mary asked.

“Absolutely, give me the Cowboy special with the eggs sunny-side up.” He watched as she walked away to place the order with the kitchen, unable to help but notice the sway of her shapely hips in the tight jeans.

He whirled around on the stool. He was here on business, not to appreciate the sexy shape of Mary Mathis. He’d already spent almost eight years lusting after Mary.

Several of the diners nodded in greeting as their gazes met his. Familiar faces, friendly faces, and yet one of them might be the killer. The thought brought a knot of anxiety into the pit of his stomach, making the idea of breakfast far less appealing.

Mary returned to where he sat, as usual the countertop between them. “So, I’m guessing there’s nothing new.”

“The mayor got me out of bed this morning with a call for action,” he said, grimacing as he remembered the early-morning phone call. “Dorothy’s sister is flying into Oklahoma City late this afternoon and is renting a car and meeting me at the office around six. I’ve got everyone on the team working different angles, but there’s really nothing new. I still have three dead women and no real leads.”

“It will all come together, Cameron. You’re an intelligent man and have a great team. I know you’re going to catch this guy.” Her voice rang with an optimism he couldn’t quite find in himself at the moment.

“Hopefully sooner than later,” he replied. “Hey, you want a dog?”

She frowned. “A dog?”

“I’m not sure how it happened but I seem to have gained temporary custody of Dorothy’s dog.”

She stared at him for a long moment and then laughed. “You have Twinkie?” She laughed again, the sound warming him despite the fact that he