your arm in fear as much as surprise. Although I don’t know why I’d be surprised that a murderer was living here. There are quite a few people who fit the bill. Damn hot flashes!” Luanne pulled a mini-fan out of her purse, turned it on, and held it in front of her sweaty face before continuing. “Like Walter Henley. That man has always been a little strange. He’s lived out in that shack all by himself for over twenty-five years without once having a girlfriend . . . or a boyfriend. A man going without sex for that long is sure to go a little crazy. Bud can’t go without it for a week without getting grumpy.”
“Who says Walter goes without sex?” Raynelle chimed in.
Luanne’s eyes widened as she turned to her friend. “Don’t you dare tell me you’ve been havin’ sex with Walter Henley, Ray!”
Raynelle sighed. “I wish. But between work and cleaning up after my deadbeat son and his girlfriend, I don’t have time for sex. Which come to think of it, has made me feel a little murderous.”
“Don’t you dare joke,” Luanne said. “Murder is not a joking matter.”
“Good afternoon, ladies.”
The deep baritone voice had Dixie turning to see Lincoln Hayes standing there. Except this time, he didn’t look like a starched and spit-polished Texas Ranger. This time, he looked like a rugged cowboy who had just finished bringing in a herd of cattle on the Chisholm Trail. His brown cowboy boots were scuffed and covered with a layer of dust. His jeans were worn with tattered hems. His western shirt was faded with damp spots of sweat under the arms. And his jaw had a thick layer of dark stubble.
He looked . . . good enough to eat.
Luanne and Raynelle must have thought so too, because they were looking at him like they wanted to cover him in chocolate syrup and lick him up. Or maybe that was just Dixie projecting.
“Hey there, Lincoln,” Luanne said with a sigh in her voice. “Do you remember me? Luanne Riddell. We met at Val and Reba’s weddin’.”
He nodded. “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Riddell. How is the bracelet-making business?”
“It’s slowed down a bit since Christmas, but I figure it will pick back up around Easter. And I’m thinking about making some bracelets with X-Meat spelled out in letter beads for those folks participating in Lent.”
Dixie almost laughed out loud at Lincoln’s stunned expression. Instead of answering, he turned to Raynelle. “Nice to see you again as well, Ms. Coffman. Do you have the day off from the Simple Market?”
Raynelle’s eyes widened as she glanced at her watch. “Shoot! I need to get back to work. Thanks for meeting me for lunch, Lulu. Hope you find your murderer, Deputy Meriwether.” She waved a hand before she hurried into the grocery store.
Dixie couldn’t help but cringe at the dark cloud that crossed over Lincoln’s face. He had not been happy about her showing up at the Double Diamond ranch and making accusations. If he thought she was spreading rumors around town about Sam Sweeney being murdered, he would implode. She figured the only reason he wasn’t going off on her was because Luanne was there.
“I probably should go too,” Luanne said. “I have to make up the goodies bags for my Mary Kay party I’m having at Devlin Holden’s new house. You’re coming, aren’t you, Deputy Meriwether? All the women are looking forward to getting makeup tips from an almost-Miss Texas.”
Dixie hadn’t planned to go. She was trying to keep her distance from the townsfolk—not only because she didn’t want them getting comfortable with her and start coming to her with their problems, but also because she didn’t want to get close to people when she was just planning to leave. But if she wanted to keep Luanne there as long as possible so she could avoid a lecture from Lincoln, Texas Ranger, she couldn’t decline.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she said. “Now what can I bring? I know! I’ll bring Heavenly Hanover Peach Pie. The recipe has been in my mama’s family for years. We don’t usually share the secret to its deliciousness, but since you were sweet enough to invite me to your party, I’ll tell you all about how to make it.” She glanced at Lincoln. “I’m sure you have more important things to do than listen to two women talk about peach pie, Officer Hayes.”
He studied her for a long moment before he