Page 76 of Pieces of Her (Andrea Oliver 1)

Unidentified body?

Head injury?

No foul play?

Mike groaned as he sat back on the stool. “Had to lift about sixteen thousand pounds of boulders today.”

Andy murmured in sympathy, but the new story was her focus now. The Yamacraw Bridge spanned the Tugaloo River. How had Hoodie’s body gotten there? Laura couldn’t have taken him herself. Even without the police watching, she only had one good arm and one good leg.

What the hell was going on?

“Hello?” Mike was rapping his knuckles on the bar again, this time for Andy’s attention. “Past my bedtime. I gotta big job to start tomorrow. Want me to walk you to your car?”

Andy didn’t think it was a good idea to stay in the bar alone. She looked around for the bartender.

“He’ll put it on my tab.” Mike tucked his phone into his pocket. He indicated Andy should go ahead of him. He kept his distance until she got to the door, then he reached ahead to hold it open.

Outside, the heat was only slightly less awful than before. Andy would take another shower before she went to bed. Maybe she would crank down the a/c and climb into the sleeping bag. Or maybe she would climb into the Reliant because wasn’t it still weird that she had met Mike here, of all places? And that he was telling her things that she wanted to hear? And that he had walked her out of the bar, which meant he would know where she was going next?

Knepper Knippers. There was lawn equipment in the back of the truck—a weedeater, a leaf blower, some rakes and a shovel. Streaks of dirt and grass were on the side panels. Mike had been in the bar when she got there, not the other way around. His truck was clearly used for lawncare purposes. He had a driver’s license with his name on it. He had a tab at the bar, for the love of God. Either he was a clairvoyant psychopath or Andy was losing her mind.

He patted the truck. “This is me.”

She said, “I like the grasshopper.”

“You’re beautiful.”

Andy was taken off guard.

He laughed. “That was weird, right? I just met you. I mean, really met you. And we flirted with each other in a bar and it was nice but it’s still kind of strange that we’re both here at the same time, right?”

“You keep saying things that I’m thinking in my head, but you say them like they’re normal instead of something I should be worried about.” Andy wanted to clap her hands over her mouth. She had not meant to say any of that out loud. “I should go.”

“All right.”

She didn’t go. Why had he called her beautiful?

“You’ve got—” he reached to pick something out of her hair. A piece of fuzz from the cheap motel towel.

Andy wrapped her hand around his, because apparently, Hand-fetish Andy was also a hell of a lot bolder than normal Andy.

“You really are so damn beautiful.” He said it like he was in awe. Like he meant it.

Andy leaned her head into his hand. His palm was rough against her cheek. The neon lights from the bar caught the umber in his eyes. She wanted to melt into him. It felt so damn good to be looked at, to be touched, by somebody. By this body. By this weird, attractive man.

And then he kissed her.

Mike was tentative at first but then her fingers were in his hair and the kissing got deeper and suddenly all of Andy’s nerves went collectively insane. Her feet left the ground. He backed her into the truck, pressed hard against her. His mouth was on her neck, her breasts. Every single inch of Andy’s body wanted him. She had never been so overcome with lust. She reached down to stroke him with her hand, and—

“Keychain,” he said.

He was laughing, so Andy laughed, too. She’d felt up the keychain in his front pocket.

Her feet went back to the ground. They were both breathing hard.

She leaned in to kiss him again, but Mike turned away.

He said, “I’m sorry.”