important than ever. As you are aware, two of our town’s young men were needlessly murdered.”
The word needlessly struck me as the wrong word to use when describing a murder victim; however, Police Chief Daily wasn’t the type of person that garnered respect. Today was no exception. He’d always seemed out of his league making public announcements. If the situation weren’t so dire, I might feel sorry for him.
“We are working overtime to solve these cases and bring justice for these crimes and peace back to Plum Beach. I understand your concerns about the tourist season, and realize that many of your livelihoods are being affected by these events. …”
“Why can’t you catch this creep?” Someone yelled from the crowd of onlookers surrounding the podium.
“We heard there was another killing!” a woman shouted.
“Hold on, folks, please, let me finish,” his voice trembled.
I looked at Zane to see if he was watching the news like everyone else. Sensing my scrutiny, he turned away from the screen. “Did you know either of these men?” His eyes mirrored the concern in his voice.
Thankfully, I could answer no. We turned back to the report in time to see the well-dressed man replace the chief at the podium.
“My name is Agent Green. I’m from the Portland FBI Field Office. I will be working with your local police department to bring a rapid resolution to these events. To answer your question about an additional murder; you are correct.”
People gasped, both on and off the screens. Hushed conversations broke out around the restaurant. I held my breath waiting for the details, hoping that once again I’d be a stranger to the victim.
I should have known my luck would run out.
“Our latest victim has been identified by family members as Seth Johnson, a local fisherman who worked part time for Tim’s Tackle and Treasures. If you are a single man, between the ages of eighteen and thirty, we advise you to remain vigilant.”
A throng of reporters pushed forward as the officers turned to leave. The local anchorman returned, providing a press conference summary.
“I knew Seth Johnson,” I said, surprised by the hitch in my throat. “It wasn’t like we were close or anything, but he helped me pick out fishing gear for my stepdad when he visited last summer. Seth was just a kid. He couldn’t be, have been, more than eighteen or nineteen.”
“I’m sorry. Do you want to leave?” He asked with genuine concern.
“I don’t think so. My stomach’s still growling and there’s nothing not eating will fix.” I hoped I didn’t sound callous, but by the twinkle in his eyes, I knew he agreed.
Avoiding any further discussion about the murders, we instead discussed park procedures between huge bites of grilled salmon and steak, cleaning our plates like two people ravished by an inhuman hunger. I almost choked, considering just how much I’d like to be ravished by the man inclined over his plate.
Seeming to read my thoughts, he glanced up, running his tongue over his upper lip. I couldn’t help imagining what his tongue would feel like gliding down me.
I scolded myself. Thoughts like those belonged to a sex-starved woman, not a twenty-four-year-old-virgin. I had every intention of keeping my purity intact until my wedding night, but for the first time, ever, I wondered if I’d make it.
Zane, if he uncovered my internal battle, was certain to rise to the challenge of deflowering me. Keeping a safe distance had become more important.
Being raised a good Baptist girl made an impact on my beliefs. My religious upbringing was like a safety net keeping me from losing control and following after what my mother referred to as desires of the flesh. I’d never understood the whole temptation principle, until this moment. I wished now that I’d paid closer attention in church.
“Delicious!” He reached for his water.
“Amen to that!” I agreed, sounding far more spiritual than I felt.
Zane gave me a lopsided grin. I couldn’t blame him. Typically, I didn’t shout amen after a meal — although my steak had been flame-broiled to perfection.
“Can I tell you a secret?” His eyes twinkled with mischief.
I leaned forward, eager to learn what type of secret a man like Zane might reveal.
“I love a woman who’s not afraid to eat when she’s hungry.”
Not sure whether to feel insulted or pleased, I decided on pleased. I’d always hated phony women who refused to eat in front of men. “Thanks, I think. I enjoy food.”
“That’s just one of many things we have in common.”