Page 54 of Fire Fight

I shook my head. “Nah. I don’t drink.”

A brow raised. “Ever?”

“Not anymore.”

As if sensing something in my tone, Aspen wisely didn’t press the issue.

I had no doubt I’d tell her someday, but today was not it.

That was a can of worms that needed to stay sealed for as long as possible.

After dinner,we retired to the living room. I turned on reruns ofCriminal Minds, which was, unsurprisingly, Aspen’s favorite show, while she brought me up to date on what she’d found at the library.

“There’s not a lot in here that I didn’t already know,” she admitted, her tone edged with frustration as she shuffled through the printouts of old news articles. “But I was hoping you could take a look and see if anything jumps out at you.”

I accepted the sheaf of papers. “Of course. And what about the yearbooks?”

“I didn’t get a chance to go through them. Ginny was very helpful and said I could come back whenever I wanted, but she was getting ready to close by the time I finished with the newspaper stuff, so I didn’t want to press my luck.”

“Ginny still works there?”

“You know her?”

“It’s a small town. I know everyone. And she was the librarian when I was in school. She’s basically a permanent fixture in that place.”

“I’m a big fan of hers. She’s the first—” She halted, eyes flicking up to me then back to her lap. “Second,” she corrected, “person to show me any sort of kindness since I got here.”

The realization that the townsfolk of Dusk Valley had given her such a hard time since her arrival—and after what she’d suffered at the hands of one of our residents—had a complex swirl of emotions taking up residence in my chest. Warmth, because she saw me as someone safe and sympathetic, someone who would go to bat for her, protect her. But also a pang of pain and guilt that the list of people willing to offer her a helping hand consisted of only two names.

“You’ll always have a friend in me,” I vowed.

Aspen’s eyes met mine again, a small smile playing on her mouth as she took a sip of Cabernet, a bead of dark red liquid lingering on her bottom lip before she swiped it away with the tip of her tongue.

I hated how badly I wanted to be that droplet of wine.

Then she returned her glass to the table and said, “I was hoping you’d say that, because I need a favor, and friends do each other favors, right?”

I knew damn well she didn’t mean it suggestively, but my brain took off like a wild horse, dredging up all kinds of ideas for what thesefavorswould entail.

Every last one of them involved getting us both naked.

I marshaled myself enough to say, “I have a feeling I’m not going to like this.”

She let out a little laugh, shaking her head. “I’m afraid not, hotshot.”

I made anout with itgesture. “Lay it on me then.”

“I need you to talk your brother into handing over the police reports from each incident.”

I groaned. “It’s not that simple.”

“It really is,” she argued. “As simple as asking the question. Pull the brother card. Call in an old debt.”

“You obviously don’t know the sheriff very well if you think pulling the brother card would work.”

She giggled. “He is a bit of a hardass, isn’t he?”

I quirked a brow. “A bit?”