That he could have been watching Adeline and had followed her here was a strong possibility.
He swaggered across the room, straddled a stool, and propped his arms on the counter. “Morning, Miss Leslie. How ’bout a cup of that outstanding coffee?”
Adeline resisted the urge to gag. Same mousy brown hair and squinty brown eyes as the rest of the male Cooper clan. Exactly like his older brother. All charm when it came to wooing the ladies out of their panties, pure asshole when it came to anything else. She didn’t miss the sudden burst of avid murmuring at the tables or the fact that the patrons seated at those tables were not so subtly dividing their attention between her and Clay.
As if she’d called his name, Clay’s attention swung to Adeline’s end of the counter. “Well, well, if it ain’t my dear cousin Addy.”
He made the statement dispassionately enough, but there was no mistaking the sheer hatred on his face—not even from this distance.
Adeline gave him a salute with her mug, then finished off the last of the coffee. Leslie hurried to provide a refill. Even she looked nervous. Maybe one of the others had whispered Adeline’s identity to her. There was no more efficient means of rapid communication than a small town’s grapevine.
“My daddy says you’re here about that lady lawyer who’s missing,” Clay announced, holding the attention of everyone in the place. When a Cooper talked, people listened. They were afraid not to. “I guess that means you’re still playing at being a cop.”
He was baiting her. She wasn’t biting.
“You believe that?” Clay turned around on his stool to face those seated around the room. “Getting my brother killed and running away wasn’t enough to prove she had no business trying to be a cop. Wonder who she’s gonna get killed this time?”
Adeline could leave. Just get up and walk out. The courthouse was only a couple short blocks away. Someone would be in the sheriff’s office. All she had to do was ring the buzzer and identify herself.
But she wouldn’t give this sawed-off little bastard the satisfaction.
“Maybe you were too young to remember,” Adeline said, when she should have just let it go, “your brother got himself killed dealing drugs. A DEA agent put a bullet right between his eyes. I witnessed the whole thing.”
Fury tightened her cousin’s lips. “First off, my brother’s association with those people was never proven in a court of law. And”—that furious mouth slid into a sneer—“the way I heard it, that bullet missed its mark.” He laughed as he turned back to the counter and picked up the mug of coffee Leslie had delivered. “But fate has a way of catching up with those who slip under its radar. No matter how fast they run.”
“You think?” Adeline cocked her head and studied him. “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “That’s a nice theory, Clay. But I never put much stock in fate. I prefer to make my own destiny.” She didn’t bother to pick up on the remark about running. Maybe she had run ... but she’d had more reasons than this piece of shit knew about. Her motivation hadn’t been his business nine years ago and it wasn’t his business now.
“You might want to be careful around here, cuz.” The look that passed between them left no mistake as to the intent of his words. “A lot of folks have long memories and they don’t like what they remember.”
“I appreciate your concern,cuz.” She shouldered out of her jacket, let him see the holstered weapon she wore on the belt at her waist. “But just like nine years ago, I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”
The grill sizzled beyond the serving window, underscoring the hush that had fallen over the room. She held the bastard’s gaze, dared him to clarify that threat in front of witnesses. Dared him to make even the slightest move of aggression. If he thought he could make her flinch, he was crazier than his half-dead old man.
The bell jingled. Clay broke the stare-off.
“Morning, Sheriff,” Leslie enthused.
The murmur of conversation and clink of forks on stoneware resumed as if the past few minutes hadn’t happened.
Wyatt chatted with the citizens seated at the tables he passed as he made his way in Adeline’s direction. Freshly starched uniform. Matching jacket and cap. There wasn’t a female in the place who wasn’t drooling.
Beyond him, Clay Cooper slid off his stool, threw down a couple of bills, and walked out. He glanced back once as he stomped away.
Adeline hadn’t seen the last of him.
“Morning, Addy.” Wyatt settled on the stool next to hers. “You sleep okay?”
He knew she hadn’t. It had rained. He would remember that she usually had the dreams when it rained. He’d held her and soothed her to sleep afterward enough times.
“I read the interviews.” She wasn’t interested in small talk. “Cassie Elliott and Jessica Huff the two you plan to interview again?” Adeline had picked up on the minor discrepancies in their statements.
“You nailed it.”
Was that approval she saw in his eyes? Or surprise? She was a good cop. She’d been a good one nine years ago.
Leslie placed a steaming mug of coffee and a fresh cheese Danish before her idol. “There you go, Sheriff.” She beamed at him. “I warmed up your Danish in the microwave. Just the way you like it.”
“Thank you, Leslie.” He flashed one of those wide, killer smiles that made his hazel eyes twinkle and the female hearts flutter.