Murder in the Smokies - By Paula Graves Page 0,5
to be bossy, Dee. Has anything come through from your contacts on our cold-case search request?”
“Possible hit in the Bowling Green, Kentucky, area.” She sighed. “Promise me you won’t let Cleve suck you into something dangerous.”
“I don’t plan to see Cleve.”
“He’ll find you. He always does.”
“Just because your brother was an idiot doesn’t mean I’m going to be.” He wondered where Seth was now. Sutton hadn’t seen him in years, not since leaving to join the army. “You never talk about Seth.”
“I’m not going to now.” Her voice went instantly hard.
“Heard from him lately?”
There was a long pause on her end before she spoke, her tone resigned. “Not since I left the FBI.”
She’d left the FBI eight years ago. “That long?”
“I guess I ceased being any use to him when I no longer had the pull to keep him out of trouble.” Delilah’s tone was sharp, but Sutton had known his old friend’s sister long enough to see through her shields. Seth’s abandonment hurt her, even though her life had to be a hell of a lot more trouble-free with him gone.
“He’s a fool.”
“Yeah. Well, nothing I can do about that. But I’ll keep on these cold-case requests and see if I can’t come up with more for you.”
“Scan the Kentucky case information and email it to me?”
“Will do.” She hung up the phone without saying goodbye.
He snapped his phone shut and leaned his head back against the seat, feeling the effects of his sleepless night. Back when he was a kid, he could stay up all night, getting into one scrape after another, and barely even feel it.
But it had been a long time since he’d been a kid. At thirty-two, he was starting to feel his age and the inevitable effects of time. Inescapable, no matter how hard he worked to stay fit and active.
He had just started the truck when a loud rap on his window jerked his nervous system into red alert. He snapped his gaze toward the window, his hand already closing over the butt of his Glock 17. He relaxed his grip as he recognized Ivy Hawkins’s dark eyes gazing back at him through the window. He hit the button and the window whirred down.
“You’re still here,” she said.
“Had to make a phone call.”
She gave a brief nod, her gaze speculative. “I could use a cup of coffee. You?”
He could, but he had a feeling Ivy wanted more than just a cup of joe. “Ledbetter’s?” he asked, speaking of the only decent diner in town.
Her lips quirked. “Where else?”
“I’ll meet you there.”
She put her hand on the door frame, her fingers brushing his shoulder. A zing of attraction tugged at his gut. “Why don’t you give me a ride? You can drop me back here when we’re done.”
“Why do I get the feeling this isn’t a simple cup of coffee between old friends?” he asked as she settled in the passenger seat.
Her dark-eyed gaze sharpened. “Because it ain’t.”
Chapter Two
Bitterwood sat at the edge of farm country, which meant Ledbetter’s Diner opened well before dawn to accommodate the early rising farmers and their work crews. It had also become a favorite place of anyone who worked a night shift, as the coffee was always hot and strong and the prices reasonable.
Ivy and Sutton bought coffee at the counter and took the drinks to an empty booth near the back of the diner. Sutton’s lips curved slightly as he sat across from her, reminding her just why she’d fallen so hard for him back when she was just a kid. When he smiled, he could take a girl’s breath away.
“When we were kids, this place was the place to eat, remember? Everybody with two dimes to rub together came here to get Maisey Ledbetter’s peach cobbler.” He took a sip of coffee and made a soft sound of contentment that traveled all the way down Ivy’s nervous system to make her toes tingle.
She noted her reaction with a combination of dismay and resignation. What had she expected? There’d never been a time she could remember when she hadn’t been completely susceptible to Sutton Calhoun’s charms.
“With homemade vanilla ice cream,” she added with a reluctant smile. “The redneck equivalent of lunch at Spago.”
Sutton’s laugh was tinged with surprise. “What do you know about Spago?”
“You think just because I stuck around this hick little town I can’t use the internet? Or maybe even travel now and then?” She’d planned her words to come out light and teasing, but