“To me?”
His eyes flared with unnamed emotion. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. I pay attention to everything. I’m observant. Comes with the territory.”
“As a fixer,” I guessed.
“As a consultant for local and federal law enforcement and a licensed private investigator with Master’s Degrees in Forensics and Criminal Justice.” He leaned in. “Yeah. You could say I’m pretty fucking observant.”
Degrees.
He said degrees.
Plural.
At this juncture, I wisely clamped my lips together and stopped talking. Thankfully, I was saved from further making an ass of myself by the arrival of a police officer in plain clothes. There was a gold badge clipped to his belt beside a holstered gun, glinting in the sun. His brown leather shoes were well-worn, his khaki pants had a few wrinkles. But his button-down shirt was crisp and white, and his shoulders filled it out in such a way that, should you find yourself pulled over for speeding, you wouldn’t much mind the citation. He was seriously handsome. Great bone structure, killer facial hair. His full head of dark hair was streaked liberally with silver, his blue eyes were warm and steady as they met mine. Despite the silver streaks, I’d place him no older than his early thirties, give or take a few years.
“Miss Goode,” he said, stopping beside Graham and extending his hand. “I’m Detective Caden Hightower, Salem PD.”
“Gwendolyn is just fine,” I told him, sliding my palm against his.
“Gwendolyn it is, then.” Eyes crinkling in a smile, he gave a firm shake, then dropped my hand. “Quite a mess you’ve got here. Been on the force a while, never seen anything like it. Even in this town. And that’s saying something.”
“Not my typical Thursday morning either,” I said weakly. I couldn’t stop staring at him. He was a total fox. Asilverfox. I think my mouth was watering. This was, admittedly, not proper crime scene decorum but I couldn’t seem to help myself. His eyes were so deep blue, you could drown in them.
“You holding up okay?” he asked gently.
Cuteandconsiderate! I was still salivating, but managed to nod. “I’ll be fine.”
“Graves here give you the run down?”
“I was starting to before you interrupted,” Graham growled. He sounded even more peeved than usual. My eyes moved to him and I felt them get wide when I saw he was scowling at the — still crinkly-eyed and smiling — Detective Hightower.
“Well, don’t let me hold you back. Carry on, Graves. After all, this is your show. You were the one who thought she needed to see this shit up close and personal.”
“If you’ve got a problem with the way I do things, Hightower, we’ll have a word when this is finished. Privately.”
The men stared at each other, saying nothing more, but I swear they were engaged some kind of in-depth silent communication. It lasted for almost a full minute before they finally broke away. Hightower looked down at his shoes, blowing out a long breath.
Graves turned to me. “I understand this isn’t exactly pleasant to look at. But I felt it was important you see what we’re dealing with here as things progress.”
“Of course,” I agreed, hoping to smooth the sudden tension between the two men. “I do understand it’s a crime scene. I won’t interfere with your work and I’ll talk to Hetti — that’s my barista. We don’t use the alley much except to throw away trash, but we can make alternate arrangements until you’ve finished.” I looked at the handsome detective. “I should’ve said before, you and your officers are welcome in the shop any time — we have a bathroom you’re free to use and an espresso machine. Hetti makes a killer pumpkin-spice latte. It’ll knock your regulation-issue socks right off. On the house, of course.”
Detective Hightower laughed. “That’s mighty kind of you, Gwendolyn.”
“You want a latte or you want to solve a crime?” Graham barked.
“Not sure why we can’t do both,” Detective Hightower replied jovially. His eyes cut to me, dazzlingly blue. “I’m a multitasker.”
I grinned at him. I couldn’t help it. But the grin slipped right off my lips when Graham sidled closer, cutting off my view and glaring down at me like I was the bane of his existence.
“Glinda, can you cut out the cutesy shit for a second and focus? I don’t have all day.”
“Sure thing,” I said with false sweetness. “I’ll cease my cutesy shit immediately.”
Officer Hightower snorted.
Graham’s glower intensified. “Have you ever seen anything like this before?”
“Have I ever seen a ritualistic animal sacrifice in the alley outside my place of business before?” I asked. “Hmmm. Let me think.... Yeah, that would be a big, fatno.”