Indelible

"Hoss took them for evidence this morning," Reggie said, flipping back through his notes. "Pair of twenty-nine-thirty Levis, pair of Nike sneakers and white socks, wallet with six bucks in it and a license."

"No underwear?" Sara asked.

He reread the notes. "Guess not."

"Car keys?"

"He never drove himself anywhere. Lost his license on a DUI coupla three years back."

"DUI doesn't mean he stopped driving," Jeffrey pointed out.

Reggie shrugged. "Never caught him on the street. Car belonged to his grandma, anyway. She's crazy as a loon. Hoss caught her driving the wrong way a couple of times, then she ran through that stop sign over on Henderson and tore off the front end. Even if he wanted to drive after that, the car wouldn't start."

Sara took off her gloves. "Is there somewhere I can sit to write out my report?"

"I'll go fetch Deacon," Reggie offered. "I'm sure he won't mind you using his office."

Sara went to the sink to wash her hands, feeling Jeffrey watch her every move. She tried to catch his eye again, but Deacon came into the room and he looked away.

"Well," Deacon said, shuffling through some papers. "I guess these are probably what you're used to."

Sara glanced down at the autopsy forms. "Yes, thanks."

"I usually fill them out in here," Deacon added, rolling a chair over to the counter by the sink.

"That's fine."

Jeffrey said, "I'll be out by the car when you're ready," and left the room.

Deacon said, "I'll leave you to it."

Sara pulled up the chair and Reggie walked over, looking over her shoulder as she wrote in her name and the various details the state required. She recorded Luke Swan's address and home phone number, then the various weights and measurements of organs and other landmarks she found on the body. She was writing her conclusion when Reggie cleared his throat. Sara looked up, waiting for him to speak.

For some reason, she anticipated a treatise against Jeffrey. What she got was, "This look pretty straightforward to you?"

Sara tried to measure her words, not knowing whether or not to trust the man. "I don't think any shooting is straightforward."

"That's true," he agreed, his tone just as cautious as hers. "How long you known Jeffrey Tolliver?"

For some reason, Sara felt the need to take up for Jeffrey. "A while. Why?"

"Just asking," he said.

"Was there something else?"

He shook his head no and she went back to the report.

A few minutes later, Reggie cleared his throat again, and she looked up, expectant.

He said, "The Beretta takes seven rounds in the magazine."

"Then you should have found five bullets in the magazine."

"Six if he had one in the chamber."

Sara waited, thinking this was like pulling teeth. "How many did you find?"

"Six."

She put down the pen. "Reggie, are you trying to tell me something?"

His jaw worked just like Jeffrey's did when he was angry. Sara was getting tired of drawing out information from reluctant men.

She said, "If you've got something to say, then say it."

Instantly, she knew she had pushed him in the wrong direction, but Sara was no longer worried about stepping on people's feelings. "Reggie, if you think there's something suspicious about this shooting, then you need to speak up. All I can do is fill in these forms. I'm not a cop and I'm not your mama."

"Lady," Reggie began, his voice shaking with anger, "you don't know what you're getting yourself into here."

"That sounds an awful lot like a threat."

"It's a warning," he said. "You seem like a nice enough person, but I don't trust the company you keep."

"You've made that abundantly clear."

"You might want to think about why people keep warning you off him." He tipped his hat to Sara as he headed toward the door. "Ma'am."

Chapter Twelve

The heat slammed into Sara like a brick as soon as she opened the door to leave the funeral home. Overhead, she could tell a storm was coming, but the rolling clouds did nothing to cool the air. Her skin seemed to contract for a few seconds before it adjusted, and by the time she got to Jeffrey standing by the car, she could feel sweat dripping down her back. Despite this, she told him, "Let's go for a walk."

He did not ask questions as they made their way through the cemetery behind the building. There was no breeze as they climbed a sloping hill, and Sara felt slightly dizzy from the heat. Still, she kept going, absently reading markers as they walked toward the wooded area at the rear of the cemetery. There was a gate in the fence, and Jeffrey held it open for her.

The sky darkened even more as they walked into the forest, and Sara did not know if it was from the canopy of trees overhead or the impending thunderstorm. Either way, the temperature seemed to drop about ten degrees in the shade, and for that she was thankful.

They walked along a narrow path, Jeffrey ahead of her pushing back branches and kicking debris out of the way. Birds called overhead, and she heard a buzzing sound that could belong to a cricket or a snake, depending on how much she let her imagination get away from her.

Finally, she broke the silence. "I know this is a crazy question considering we're in Alabama, but has anyone thought to ask why Luke Swan wasn't wearing a shirt?"

Jeffrey pulled a twig off a low-hanging branch. "I don't think anybody's asking much of anything." He glanced at her over his shoulder. "There weren't any footprints outside the window." Seemingly as an afterthought, he added, "Of course, the ground was dry. You could make the argument that nothing would leave footprints."

"It seems to me arguments are being made to dismiss a lot of things," she said, flinching as a tree root dug into her heel.

He stopped, facing her. "I couldn't tell if the screen was pulled off from the outside or pushed from the inside."

"What are you going to do?"

"Hell," he said, throwing the twig into the woods. "I don't know." He knelt down and started to untie his shoes.

"What are you doing?"

"You might as well be walking barefoot in those sandals." He slipped off his te

Sara hesitated, and he added, "I've had my mouth on every part of your body, Sara. You think I haven't noticed your feet are the same size as mine?"

"They're not that big," she mumbled, putting her hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she slipped her foot into his shoe. To her embarrassment, the fit was nearly perfect.

She looked down to see if he had noticed, and he smiled up at her. "I love the way you blush."

"I'm not blushing," she said, though she could feel it in her cheeks.

He helped her into the other sneaker. She started to kneel down to tie the laces, but Jeffrey did it for her, saying, "I keep waiting for somebody to say something. There's no way they're all buying this story."

"I think Reggie has some questions," she said, watching him double-knot the laces. He had such large hands, but they were soft, and his touch was always so gentle. For some reason, the anger Sara had felt toward him this morning had dissipated, and all she could think was that twenty-four hours ago she had been on the verge of falling in love with this man. As much as she wanted to change her mind, she could not alter how she felt about him.

"There." He stood, holding her sandals in one hand. "Okay?"

She took a step, lying, "They're a little loose."

"Yeah, right." He continued, walking in his socks. "Did Reggie mention I dated his sister?"

"I just assumed you'd dated every woman in town."

He gave her a look.

"Sorry," she said, and she really was. They walked for a few more minutes before she asked, "Why is everyone so against you?"