The Darkest Corner (Gravediggers #1)(25)

"Well, that's a relief," she said at last. "That's good enough news that I'll offer to make you a full-fledged breakfast if you'd like."

His eyes widened comically, and she couldn't say she blamed him. If she screwed up toast, she couldn't imagine the kind of damage she could do to an actual meal.

"I'm good, thanks," he said after a pause, and Tess had to hold back a laugh. "I'm actually here because I got a call from the sheriff's office in Dallas County. They had a home robbery that took place a couple of hours ago. The police recovered two armed suspects who'd been tied up and left out in the rain until the authorities arrived. But one of the suspects had been shot and lost a fair amount of blood. He was mostly incoherent when the police got to him, but he kept babbling about the devils from the funeral home. The detective pieced together enough to understand that the robbers had allegedly been subdued by several men with guns and driving a black van."

Tess felt the color leach out of her face. "Wow."

"You don't happen to know anything about that, do you?" he asked. "I'd like to take a look at your van if you don't mind."

She wasn't sure why his request irked her so much. Maybe because of the way he'd phrased the question. He'd been buttering her up and was now asking questions like she was hiding some deep dark secret. And technically, maybe she was harboring a secret, since she knew they'd taken the van out and there was a dead/not dead body on her table. All she knew for sure was that she had a lot more questions than she was getting answers for.

"Of course I don't know anything about it," she said, sounding properly insulted. "I told you I was just getting up for the day."



       
         
       
        

"You haven't been out in the rain?" he asked.

"No," she said, perplexed now. "People generally don't go out in the rain in the middle of the night."

"I just noticed your hair was wet, that's all."

She arched a brow and felt her cheeks heat with anger. "The electricity went out, so I wasn't able to dry my hair after my shower this morning. I didn't realize having wet hair was a punishable offense."

"Now, there's no need to get that temper of yours riled up," he said, holding up his hands. "I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't ask."

"You've known me my whole life, and unless I'm remembering wrong, not once have I ever been accused of taking my van out for a joyride and shooting a couple of robbers. I'm not G.I. Jane or Annie Oakley."

"Then you won't mind if I see the van?" he asked.

"I'm more than happy to show you the van when it gets back from being cleaned. They took it yesterday after Mrs. Schriever was dropped off from the hospital. The inside was a mess after all the rain we've been having."

The lie flew off her tongue before she even knew what hit her. Good grief, what in the world was wrong with her? She was lying to a man of the law. And by the way he was looking at her, she wondered if he knew it. But she'd be darned if he was going to come into her house and accuse her of a crime she didn't commit.

She had no reason in the world to cover up for Deacon Tucker or any of the others, but that's exactly what she was doing. One stupid kiss and her sense had gone right out the window.

"When was the last time you saw your employees?"

She shrugged and went back for a second cup of coffee. She could already tell it was going to be one of those days.

"I brought Mrs. Schriever back about two thirty yesterday. Deacon and Colin were both here to help me unload. I didn't see anyone after that because I was embalming Mrs. Schriever. I didn't get finished until close to six."

"What about after?"

"Well, golly gee, Cal," she said, her eyes wide with sarcasm, "I washed the scent of formaldehyde from my body and then we had a giant orgy."

He scowled and stared into his cup. "There's no need to be snippy, Tess. I'm just doing my job."

"Chush' sobach'ya."

"I've heard your granny say that before," he said. "So I know it's not very nice." Cal finished off his coffee and then took his mug to the sink to rinse it out.

He was right, but she didn't figure it was in her best interest to tell him he was full of shit. At least in English. 

"I noticed you're favoring your wrist," he said, changing the subject. "You made the coffee and got the mugs out with your left hand. I thought you were always right-handed in school."

"I had a run-in with a heavy piece of equipment," she answered automatically, drawing the aforementioned wrist in tighter to her body. "The equipment won."