His hand rubbed Hugo’s coat in long strokes, making Meredith look away. Part of her wondered how those hands would feel on her skin again.
Pretty sad when you envy a dog.
Since Meredith couldn’t agree more, she didn’t respond. Divorcée Woman was more right than wrong these days. It was annoying as hell.
“Why Hugo? And what kind of dog is he?”
“The vet thinks he’s a golden sheltie, which means he’s playful and likes to herd. Don’t you, boy? And he’s named after Victor Hugo, my favorite novelist.”
Her heart thudded hard against her chest. Wasn’t Hugo’s Les Misérables her favorite novel? She wasn’t voicing that one. No siree. Seeing this sweet side of him was more than she could take. She didn’t even want to consider the fact they had yet another thing in common.
“I’ll call Grandpa. He should be home tonight. I don’t think there’s Bingo at church.”
“Arthur Hale plays Bingo?”
She drained her coffee. “He says he hears more information there than anywhere else. And it’s the only gambling in town. We had a hotel and casino once, but it closed during the Depression. I wish I had seen it at its peak. Dare was the destination for the jet set and mobsters back then. Now The Grand Mountain Hotel is just a condemned building up in the canyon.”
Tanner reached for his North Face coat. “It almost ruins his image. The towering independent journalist and newspaperman who taps into the heart of the West like no other plays…Bingo.”
“It’s what makes him good. He likes to be with real people. Not all journalists do.” She thought of Rick-the-Dick. He didn’t like people. He used them and then cast them aside.
Tanner was different. He liked people. He understood them. No one could feign that interest, that intensity of listening. When he walked toward her and tapped her on the nose, her lashes fluttered.
“I suspect being with real people is a Hale trait.” He sauntered out the kitchen, Hugo trailing after him. “Do me a favor though. Try not to act like it’s such a chore to be my pretend girlfriend. Otherwise, I’ll make you a bumper sticker that says Real People Play Bingo and put it on your nice new Audi. Come on. I’ll walk you out.”
Her lips twitched. “I’ll do my best not to gag.”
Deep down, she knew being his girlfriend wouldn’t be a chore at all—pretend or otherwise.
Chapter 25
Arthur Hale was as sharp as a tack. Tanner caught the gleam in the man’s eyes as he re-read the autopsy report. Seeing the legend work was like watching Brokaw or Woodward. The ground under his feet suddenly felt holier. He didn’t question it, simply enjoyed it.
They were gathered together in Arthur’s living room, sitting on a well-worn blue couch next to an antique coffee table. Tanner listened as Arthur explained all he knew. Meredith added her two cents, looking beautiful in a red sweater and gray skirt. Then Tanner ran them through what Ray had told him.
Arthur crunched down on a red hot. “Well, between the three of us, we don’t have a pot to piss in. I couldn’t reach Gene, but I’d bet my grandfather’s Winchester he left the drug use out as a kindness, like Meredith said. You’d have to know their congregation, Tanner. Something like this would send the faithful into an apoplexy. We’re still a small town. People watch out for each other without being asked. Gene knows that information won’t bring her back.”
“So, you don’t think he could have another motivation? Like making some extra dough since his stock portfolio crashed?”
Arthur tapped his cane—hard. “No, Gene may have to work for a year longer than he wanted, but he’d never make a wrong step. I’ve known him since he was a kid, playing with my boy.”
“Okay.” Who could fight against that character reference?
Arthur frowned and looked him in the eyes. “I won’t ask if you trust your source about the drugs.”
Tanner met his gaze.
“I doubt the police report will say much,” Arthur continued. “From what I’ve heard, it’s been treated as a straightforward case. Her alcohol level was well above the legal limit. She died from a heart murmur. Case closed.”
Meredith handed Tanner a file. “Grandpa compiled the names of the kids who were admitted to the ER. Have your source confirm he sold marijuana to them. If we triangulate they were his clients—”
“Then we add Jemma to the list and have something that’s consistent,” Tanner interjected.
“Exactly,” Arthur added. “Then maybe your sister, Peggy, will be able to prove the drugs were laced, like your source says. Dare doesn’t have any fancy equipment. Gene’s tests might have missed it.”