Long Shadow (Veiled Intentions #2) - Elle Keaton Page 0,26
metabolism. His body hadn’t gotten the memo about impending middle age.
“Have a seat,” Mat offered gallantly when Niall reached the table.
With a small nod, Niall lowered himself onto the bench opposite Mat and picked up one of the menus. “What’s good these days?”
Mat opened his menu. “Depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“If you plan on working out later.”
Silence.
Mat shut his eyes for a second, cursing his mouth, his face heating. When he opened them, Niall’s amused agate gaze was locked onto his.
“I mean,” Mat huffed out a laugh, “the country-fried steak is great, but it has about a million calories. I sit around a lot; a guy my age has got to watch what he eats. I usually get a burger, no mayo, and a side salad.”
“Because mayo is also full of calories?”
Mat grimaced. “No, because mayonnaise is disgusting.”
“Huh.” Niall went back to perusing his choices.
When Gracie came around to their table, Niall ordered the country-fried steak. Mat blushed, then panicked as he attempted to quell the manic butterflies dive-bombing in his stomach, and he ended up ordering his usual.
Niall smirked.
Mat was toast.
Eleven
Niall
Niall made himself comfortable on the vinyl bench seat. He’d been jumpy as hell about dinner until he’d laid eyes on Mat and realized Mat was more nervous than he was. Niall enjoyed having the upper hand; having Mat nervous suited him—but then again, he was an asshole.
“I see they still have the same art,” he commented, glancing around at the decidedly amateur work.
On the wall by their table a gritty sailor was depicted in oil paints, one eye closed against wind and salt spray, the other staring gloomily down at them.
Mat leaned across the table. “It’s terrible,” he whispered, “but Lulu’s grandson painted it.”
Ah. He’d probably known that at some point.
The two of them fell into cop talk. It was… Niall wanted to use the word “endearing,” but shied away from it… nice how deeply Mat cared about not only the Piedras County residents but the deputies and staff he worked with. He knew all of their stories and their extended families’ too: he knew who was having trouble paying bills, who had a new girlfriend or boyfriend, and who was worried because their kid wasn’t learning to speak as fast as her siblings. He carried all that information around in his head in addition to the ongoing cases they had involving the department.
The waitress dropped their plates off, interrupting a story Mat was regaling him with about wrangling raccoons who’d broken into one of the island’s coffee shops one night, wreaking complete havoc.
“Because somehow the sheriff’s office is also animal control.”
“Another beer?” the waitress asked.
Niall didn’t recognize her, although her name tag said, “Gracie.”
“No, make it a coffee,” Mat replied.
Niall raised a questioning eyebrow, also shaking his head. He didn’t need another beer. He’d cut back since taking a bottle of Jack Daniel’s to bed with him when he first came back to Piedras.
“Technically, I’m backup for Birdy tonight. With my other two regular deputies out and the—” He cut himself off.
“What?” Niall asked.
Mat glanced around. Niall followed his gaze. There were only the three other patrons in the dining room area, and none of them seemed to be paying any attention to their conversation.
In a low voice, Mat continued, “Normally, in a situation like this, I’d ask Duane Cooper to help out… but there’s something going on, and until Birdy and I get to the bottom of it, I’d rather not have him in the station by himself.”
Niall frowned. “Who’s Duane, again?”
“Auxiliary marine search and rescue. I inherited him from my dad, actually.” Mat shrugged. “I let things continue as they had been, didn’t see the need for change—and until recently, marine wasn’t exactly under the sheriff’s office umbrella. We were more of sibling agencies, but the county is changing that. Birdy’s been going over the budgets he provided from past years so I can give the council an idea of what next year’s will look like with marine officially added in.”
Niall grimaced. “Things not adding up?”
“Red flags all over the damn place. Not obvious stuff—weird things, like, he actually doesn’t spend everything the county allocates. I mean, he gets his salary, and in the summer it’s higher because, surprise, there’s a lot of overtime, but… there’s a new boat out there, and we don’t know where it came from. There’s no way he could afford it on his salary—plus I know he’s still paying alimony—and the county sure didn’t pay for it.”