job. He’d had it, too, until Celeste Blessing revived Eternity Springs by opening Angel’s Rest.
Ginger set a stack of mail on his desk and asked, “Did you get any hits on the fingerprints from the burglary out at the Pulaski place?”
“Turns out they belonged to a houseguest who they had forgotten had visited.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Yep.”
“Any other leads?”
“Nope.”
“Well, now, that’s just splendid. Maybe I should call Jeremy and tell him to bring his video camera to the sheriff’s office.”
Zach lifted his gaze and scowled at her. “Excuse me? Why in the world would you say that?”
“Jeremy specializes in bear videos, doesn’t he? I see one great big angry one sitting in front of me.”
Zach bared his teeth and growled at her. Ginger laughed, then asked, “What can I do to help you, Zach?”
“Have we had any resumes arrive that seem promising?”
“I put two into your in-box. They’re the best we’ve received.”
The tone of her voice didn’t sound promising, but as he searched through his box for the résumés, Zach held out a glimmer of hope that at least one of these applicants would do. When he returned to the office following his day off a week ago, he’d learned that his deputy—a navy reservist—had been called to active duty. This, two weeks after his other deputy took a job in Durango. Since then he’d averaged only four hours of sleep per night, and he couldn’t keep up the pace much longer.
With the tourist season bearing down upon him—pun intended—he needed to hire help fast. If they did have an emergency, he’d be deputizing friends in order to deal with it, and that was no way to run a law enforcement office.
He scanned both resumes and remained underwhelmed. However, his in-box was beginning to resemble Murphy Mountain, and since Ginger had a point about his grizzly-bear attitude, he picked up the phone on his desk and called the first candidate. Martin Varney answered on the third ring and was happy to participate in a telephone interview with no advance notice.
Zach made notes on a yellow legal pad as he spoke to Varney. Concentrating on the conversation, he paid scant attention when the front door opened and Ginger rose to greet the man who stepped inside. Ten minutes later, encouraged by what he’d heard, Zach ended the call by inviting Varney to town for an in-person interview. Only when he hung up the phone did he tune in to the conversation between Ginger and the stranger. He frowned when he realized that his dispatcher was cooing.
The man was tall and athletic-looking, with dark hair and a face that Zach recognized, though it took him a moment of thought to place him. “Coach Romano?”
Zach followed college sports. Anthony Romano was an assistant men’s basketball coach for the University of Colorado.
“No, Tony is my brother. I’m Max Romano.”
“Max Romano,” Zach repeated. “So, you’re not the coach at Western State, either.”
“No. That’s Lucca.”
“You share a strong family resemblance.”
“True, but I’m better-looking,” Max fired back with the ease of an oft-stated claim. “I don’t coach basketball, either. I realize I don’t have an appointment, Sheriff Turner, but I’m hoping you have a few moments to spare? Ginger wasn’t certain.”
In fact, Ginger knew very well that he didn’t have the time, but obviously Romano had charmed her. “Is there a problem?”
Following an almost imperceptible moment of hesitation, he answered. “That’s what I’m hoping to find out. I’m on a fact-finding mission for our family. We have some questions.”
“Questions about what?”
This time Max Romano’s hesitation was noticeable. “Could we speak privately?”
Ginger’s eyes gleamed with curiosity, but she took the hint and picked up her purse. “I’ll make the lunch run now, Sheriff. You want your usual from Fresh?”
“That’ll be great, Ginger. Thanks.”
As his dispatcher slipped out the door, Zach gestured for Max Romano to take a seat in the chair opposite his desk. “So, what can I do for you?”
Romano sat, rested his elbows on his knees, and leaned forward, meeting Zach’s gaze with a serious, intent look. He seemed to choose his words carefully as he said, “I’d like to hear your assessment of what life is like in Eternity Springs.”
For this he needs a sheriff? “That sounds like something better suited to the tourist office. You should talk to—”
“You. I’m interested in what you have to say.”
“Why me?”
“I prefer to speak to the man who lives in the trenches, not someone who’s trained in talking points.” Romano pursed his lips. “Listen, Sheriff, I’ll cut to the chase.