to the other two women by climbing through windows. In Shirley Cook’s case, the window had been unlocked. She wasn’t sure if that had been the case with Dorothy.
Whoever it was had to be agile and move with an almost inhuman stealth. George Wilton was definitely on her “no way” list.
As the dinner rush began around five she wasn’t surprised to see Cameron walk back through the door. She also wasn’t surprised at how her wayward heart leaped at the sight of him.
Sometimes in the evenings when they sat alone and talked, she found herself wondering what those lips of his would feel like against her own, how they would feel trailing a slow path of kisses along her jawline and down the length of her neck. She found herself wondering what it would be to wake up in the morning and have his big, strong body curled around hers.
As he hung up his hat and then walked toward her, his eyes glimmered with a warmth that threatened to pull her in, but she steeled herself against it...against him.
“Coffee?” she asked as he slid into his usual stool.
He shook his head. “No thanks, I’m all coffeed out.” He shrugged off his thick jacket and hung it on the back of his stool. “I think we’re in for an early winter. The wind is blowing so cold and I swear I smell snow in the air.”
“Then how about a cup of hot cocoa instead?” she asked. He looked tired, dispirited and her need to comfort him was strong. The only way she knew to do that was through food or drink. She didn’t dare attempt any other way to give him comfort.
“Actually, a cup of cocoa sounds great, along with a little inside information.”
She eyed him curiously. She served his cocoa, pulled up a stool on the opposite side of the counter and watched as he drew the cup to his mouth, took a sip and then quickly licked his upper lip for any errant chocolate residue.
“Inside information?” she prompted him, not wanting to focus on his sinfully sexy lips.
He glanced around, obviously grateful that the café was just beginning to get busy and nobody had yet to sit on the stools on either side of him.
“A little earlier Adam and I worked up a list of some of the newer members of the community and a few of the locals that bounced around in our heads. I’d just like to get your general impression of them.”
She nodded, eager to help but unsure that she could. “Okay, but you understand I only have a limited time with most of the people who come in here to eat, and most of the time they are on their best behavior.”
“Understood, but it’s possible you know more about your customers than you realize.” He took another sip of his cocoa and then leaned forward. “Thomas Manning,” he said.
She frowned as she thought of the middle-aged man who came in every couple of days for dinner. “I don’t know much about him at all. He always comes in alone, he brings a book with him and reads while he eats.”
“Doesn’t visit much with anyone?” Cameron asked.
“Not really. He pretty much keeps to himself, but he’s always pleasant to anyone who speaks to him and none of the waitresses have ever complained about him.”
“John and Jeff Taylor.”
Mary couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips when she thought of the two young twins. “I know they were raised by their mother someplace back East after their mother and father divorced when they were five years old. When their father, Jonathon Taylor, died, he left them his ranch just outside of town.” She shrugged. “They seem like nice young men trying to fit into a lifestyle that’s a bit alien to them. Jeff is quieter than John, but both of them seem like good people.”
She watched him take another sip of his cocoa, aware of the growing crowd of people filling the café. “I’m assuming Brandon Williams isn’t on your list of suspects.” Brandon had moved to Grady Gulch about six months before. He was a big veteran confined to a motorized scooter. Scars marred his face and he was missing facial hair and was bald, yet his pleasant personality made him a favorite among the waitresses.
“Physically Williams is a write-off, as are several other men in town. The man or woman we’re seeking is physically fit and filled with some crazy compulsion to kill waitresses. So