to be scared isn’t brushing it off. I just don’t need to get dragged down by emotion that doesn’t serve anything. It would just make me ineffectual, which won’t help when I have work to do and a mystery to—”
“What’d I miss?” A blonde woman strode in, wearing a red coat over a black shirt and dark blue skinny jeans.
Ellie got a drink of water while she fought to tamp down her reactions to everything. Her sister, the handsome warrior across the counter, the new lady detective who clearly had more style than Ellie would ever have, her grandfather’s death, her grief, the will, the cabin and—
“Ellie.” Dean’s warm voice interrupted her reverie.
She glanced up and then realized water was flowing over her hand. Over the rim of the glass. She shut off the faucet and tipped some out before taking a sip like everything was fine.
These people were all trained to deal with stress. She’d spent almost a decade trying to get over hers while making strides to become an invaluable member of the faculty at her university.
Jess acted like there was something wrong with being that focused.
“Hi, Ellie.” The blonde stuck her hand out. “I’m Detective Wilcox. You can seriously call me Savannah, though. As Jess’s sister, that makes you family to the police department.”
Her grandfather had been the chief, so Ellie knew how that worked. Cops looked out for other cops and their family. People they cared about.
Ellie shook her hand, quickly realizing she hadn’t dried it off since she overfilled the glass. “Sorry.”
Great. Now the fabulous detective knew she was a distracted super nerd. Not something that normally bothered her, except that right now Dean was staring again.
She lifted her chin and shot him a look like, What? He only smiled.
“Any idea why someone might be trying to hurt you?”
Ellie turned to her. “No.”
Jess sighed.
Savannah said, “I’m going to need you to think a little more before answering.” She glanced at Jess like she needed an answer to a question. Or Jess should do something.
“You asked why. I don’t know why. I have no enemies here. I don’t live here, and I haven’t for years.”
“But it’s possible,” Jess said.
“Sure. In the sense that multiple things can be true, or plausible. Like the fact that either time you could have been the one being targeted. Right?”
Her sister couldn’t argue with that.
Savannah said, “I’m looking into that. But Jess is trained to take care of herself.”
“I’m not helpless. I’ve taken self-defense classes enough that I started teaching it two years ago. I was raised by a cop who took me to the range and showed me my way around all kinds of guns.”
“But you don’t own a weapon, right?”
“Why would I?”
Jess lifted her hands and turned to pace away from the kitchen. “Maybe because someone is targeting you.”
“Don’t yell at me. I’m not helpless, and I’m not a child that needs to be managed.” She turned to Savannah. “I had planned to leave town by now, so this wouldn’t have even been an issue, but I need to find what my grandfather left for me.”
The detective frowned. “I thought he left you this cabin?”
Dean shifted his stance. Whatever he wanted to ask or was thinking right now, she was determined not to care. So she didn’t look at him.
“He did, along with a secret that I’m supposed to uncover. Because he trusts me to do the right thing with ‘what was buried’ and this story. Finally.”
Which meant it was old. Something he’d done when he was younger? She knew he’d been in Vietnam, and she’d studied that decades-long conflict extensively. Though, not his unit’s specific role in what had happened.
After he’d come home from the war, her grandfather had been one of the earliest residents of Last Chance.
Dean unfolded his arms and braced his palms on the edge of the counter. Like that made him any less imposing. “Could it be that someone is trying to keep you from finding out whatever this is?”
She opened her mouth to speak but discovered she had no answer.
“That’s what I’m wondering,” Savannah said. “And Jess needs to be at work in an hour.”
“You haven’t even slept.”
Jess shrugged. “I’m covering for Donaldson.”
Savannah pinned Ellie with a stare. “That means you’re going to be alone.”
“She needs protection.”
Ellie whirled to Dean, swallowing the gasp. “Someone give me a gun, then.”
One side of his mouth curled up. “Nope.”
“My grandfather taught me how to use them. We’ve covered this.”
Dean said, “You’re busy, and you don’t have