He was skilled at reading people.
“Call it burnout,” she said.
“That covers a lot of ground. What happened, specifically?”
“Specifically . . . I needed a break.”
It wasn’t a lie, really—just an incomplete answer. It didn’t encompass the panic attacks and the night sweats and the constant low-grade anxiety that had permeated her life those last few months. She’d escaped all that when she’d left her CSI job and moved down here.
At least, she’d thought she had. Yesterday had rattled her.
Joel was still watching her, probably waiting for her to say more. For some reason she felt compelled to open up, which wasn’t like her at all, especially with someone she barely knew.
“My specialty is forensic photography,” she told him.
“You have a degree, right?”
“In criminal justice.”
Apparently, he’d read her online bio on the college website.
“I’ve been doing nature photography for years, just on the side, selling pieces here and there,” she said. “I heard about a calendar project for the birding association, and it sounded interesting, so I submitted a portfolio. They offered me the project, and the timing worked out, and so I moved down.”
He nodded. “And you got down here when? April?”
“March. Just in time for the spring migration. My deadline is in August, so I signed a six-month lease.”
The server was back to clear the plates and drop off a check, and Miranda was relieved by the interruption. She didn’t want to talk to him about why she’d come here and when she planned to leave.
They split the bill and walked back to the parking lot. As they reached the Jeep, a flock of roseate spoonbills flew over in a V formation.
Miranda tipped her head back. “Look.” She glanced at Joel, and he was smiling at her. “What?”
He shook his head. “Tourists.”
Okay, so maybe she was a tourist. But he didn’t realize how lucky he was to live on an island, surrounded by birds and beaches and beautiful scenery. Everywhere she looked there was something to photograph.
They drove back to the police station as the sky turned dusky pink and the sun disappeared behind the sand dunes. Miranda figured he was going back to work tonight. Day two of a homicide investigation, he would be working round the clock.
She glanced at him beside her.
“You ever think about going back?” he asked.
“What, you mean CSI work?”
“Yeah.”
All the time.
“Not really,” she said. “I like what I’m doing.”
He nodded slowly, but she didn’t know whether he believed her.
She turned into the police station parking lot, relieved for his sake that the reporters had cleared out. She pulled into an empty space beside the flagpole.
He turned to look at her. “My offer stands.”
Nerves fluttered in her stomach. She didn’t want to have this conversation again, but she’d brought it on herself by getting involved in his case.
“With the high season coming, we could really use your help,” he added. “Our pay is consistent with big-city departments. You can look it up on our website.”
“I’m only here through the summer.”
“We could use you through the summer, then.”
She sighed. “You’re persistent, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Why are you so determined to convince me? I’m sure you could find someone else who’s qualified.”
“I’ve seen your work. I want you.”
His words hovered between them as he looked at her. A warm tingle filled her stomach. She wanted to reply, but she couldn’t think of a thing to say.
“The job’s yours if you want it.” He opened his door. “Think about it, all right?”
Before she could respond, he was gone.
CHAPTER
SIX
Nicole tugged her ponytail loose and drove with the windows down, letting her hair whip around her face. The wind felt liberating after hours stuck in the airless conference room, poring through reports and bickering with her team about next steps. It was good to get into her pickup and just drive through the darkness, letting the endless yellow stripes on the highway numb her brain. As she neared home, thoughts about the case were replaced by dreams of a long hot shower and the leftover pizza waiting in her refrigerator.
She passed the marina, and her food fantasies gave way to worries about the investigation again. Nicole’s shoulders tightened. She hated bickering. Tempers were short today, and throughout the department frustration was running high. Everyone from Chief Brady on down was tense and snappish, and the army of reporters camped out in front of the station this evening hadn’t helped.
Emmet and Owen wanted to keep the investigation tight. They opposed reaching out to other agencies, especially off island.