Page 29 of Seducing the Sheriff (Charming Butte #2)

“I won’t tell you then.” He chuckled at my horrified expression as he turned to the grill. “No, you’re safe, sheriff. I bought wine earlier. That’s how she knew I liked it.”

“She could have told me,” I grumbled. “I’d have brought something else.”

“This way we have another bottle the next time you have to make it up to me.”

“What makes you think I’m going to do it again?”

Greg grinned at me over his shoulder. “You’re a cop. The sheriff. Of course you’re going to do it again.”

I shut up and poured the wine. My boyfriend knew me too well. And didn’t that give me the warm and fuzzies.

I sat back, appreciating the warmth from the chiminea, and let him take care of me for the evening, content to be in his company, and not have to be the one in charge.

The steak was done to perfection and aside from the bugs who seemed determined to nose-dive into my wine, it was a perfect evening on the porch. I felt the stresses of the week easing out of my tired muscles as I laughed and chatted with Greg.

I’d never been with anyone who I could be as relaxed with as I was with him. Of all the towns Greg could have picked to settle in, he chose mine. What if he’d chosen somewhere different? I couldn’t help the shiver that went through me.

Greg must have caught my shudder, because he said, “Cash? Are you okay?”

“Just thinking.”

“About?” He squinted at me. “You’re not thinking about work, are you?”

I shook my head. “No, about you.”

“Well, that’s better. I like it when you think about me.”

“I do too. You’re all I want to think about.” I took a sip of my wine. “I had a sliding doors moment. What would happen if you hadn’t picked Charming to live in?”

“But I did, and so did you.”

I thought about that for a moment. I could have chosen another county to work in. But I picked Mustang and decided to live in Charming. “We were meant to be.”

“We were, although another time, maybe we could do it without the body in the closet.”

“That would be a good idea,” I agreed. “Wait! You’re planning a next time already? Is that with me or someone else?”

Greg elbowed me in the ribs.

I yelped and clutched my glass. “Hey, mind the wine.”

“You’re the one who worries about next time.”

It took me a moment to comprehend. Then I remembered my freak-out about there being a second time when we’d not even had our first time together.

“I don’t worry about that now.”

He tangled his legs with mine. “Of all the places we could have ended up, Charming is the best.”

I grunted.

“You, me, alien butt cookies, and…don’t forget to buy Rosie a bunch of peonies tomorrow.”

Warmth spread through me. He was kind enough to think of my assistant. Greg was the perfect boyfriend and all mine. I’d never let him go.

“Not tomorrow. The day after. Tomorrow I’m not moving from your side.”

“That sounds perfect.”

Greg leaned over to kiss me, and his tongue slid over mine. He tasted of wine and good food, and I prolonged the kiss, not wanting to move away from him.

He sighed as our lips parted. “I love you, Cash.”

I swallowed and maybe I found it difficult to speak for a moment. “I love you too. Don’t ever think I don’t love you, even when I’m a pain in the butt and working all hours.”

Greg brushed our mouths together again. “Next time I’m going to come find you sooner and drag you back to my lair. I want to sleep with you in my arms and take care of you.”

“I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Disturb me,” he insisted. “That’s what boyfriends are for.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“Make sure you do.”

Greg cupped my neck and hauled me into another kiss, and I went with him, like I planned to do for the rest of my life.

Then I pulled back, remembering something I’d been meaning to tell him since I arrived.

His brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“I got a call this afternoon.” I beamed at him. “We found our girl.”

“We did?”

“And you’ll never guess who she is. I meant to call you, but it got busy again.”

“That’s good to hear. You can tell me all about it. Tomorrow.”

I squinted at him; not sure I’d heard him right. I’m not sure I’d have the patience to wait.

“You don’t want to know now?”

Greg smiled so sweetly, my heart melted. “She waited eighty years, Cash. She can wait one more night. This night is for us.”

“Just for us.”

Greg leaned against me as we stared at the old black lacquer box on my desk.

I returned the lean, appreciating his solid weight against me.

Fortunately, most of the crowd around my small office were also focused on the box and not on the two of us.

The box and the jewelry had been released to me and now I could return it to the family.

“I wonder if she’s happy now,” he murmured in my ear.

“I think so. We gave her a name and her history.”

Now everyone knew the story of Lily Benning, murdered by her husband, Thomas Benning in 1936. The medical examiner believed from the blunt force trauma on her skull that Lily was dead when she was walled up. It made me shiver to think about it and I was grateful for small mercies.

No one knew why he’d hidden her in the closet rather than taking her out to the desert. But, in the end, his motivation wasn’t important. Lily was the victim and her story mattered.

We knew also why she’d been murdered. The small scrap of paper in her hand had been the key to the whole affair.

On the back had been a short paragraph about a missing butcher from Townsville, Thomas James Benning.

Not a pharmacist at all. His wife was frantic to know where he was.

Lily had discovered her husband was a bigamist and a fraud.

She must have confronted him, and he killed her, whether in panic or cold-blooded murder, no one would ever know.

“If Lily had never read the paper, she would never have known.” Greg said.

“Her sliding doors moment,” I agreed. Everyone apart from Greg looked confused.

Poor woman. She deserved better than to be hidden behind a dark closet wall.

The mayor raised an eyebrow at Greg. “You’re going to donate the box to the museum, aren’t you?”

I held back my chuckle. Liam and Jim had been discussing media and photo opportunities from the moment they saw the box.

“It’s not really my decision,” Greg said, turning to Mateo—Matty—the dark-haired slender handsome man who owned the Crafty Coyote, Charming’s craft store. The place was Greg’s home from home.

I wasn’t sure if I should be jealous about the amount of time Greg spent in there discussing wool and looms and other things that went over my head, but he’d shoved me the first time I grumbled about it, told me I was an idiot, then dragged me off to meet Matty and his gorgeous wife, Sofia.

They were a happy go-lucky couple, delighted to have new customers, and I’d already chosen locally made presents for my family.

I couldn’t wait to give my mom something Greg had woven. She would go wild.

Look, I made new friends, MindMom!

For an introvert, I was getting there, along with my man.

Greg smiled at the slim man on the other side of the desk. “Lily was your great, great aunt, Matty, and this box rightly belongs to you.”

It turned out Lily still had family in Charming Butte.

No one was more shocked than me came when Matty came to my office to ask if the mystery body in the old Jenkins’ ranch was his great, great Aunt Lily.

He’d seen a photo of the cameo in the local media and recognized it from an old photo.

Greg was thrilled to place the final piece of the puzzle, especially when her relative turned out to be someone he knew.

Matty and his family buried her in the family plot and the whole of Charming turned out for the funeral, including Greg and me.

We were hugged and kissed by so many of his family for solving the mystery of their missing aunt, it was overwhelming.

Greg and I escaped back to his ranch for some much-needed beer and porch time.

“I have her locket. That’s enough for me.” Matty gave Greg a broad smile. “She was part of Charming, even if no one knew she was there. Jim can take the box and cameo for the historical society.

“Thank you, Matty,” Jim said. He practically vibrated at having an exciting exhibit. “The tale of the woman in the closet will draw in new visitors.”

“Lily,” I said, because she had a name now.

Jim inclined his head. “Lily. I’ll make sure no one forgets her name.”

“As long as I don’t get more visitors wanting to see the murder closet,” Greg growled.

The story had been picked up by true crime podcasts, which led to a few enthusiasts turning up at Greg’s door, determined to see the closet where Lily had been hidden.

“You can set the sheriff on them,” Liam said. “I believe you’ve got him on speed dial.”

I snorted. “I suggested that. Greg said he had enough power tools to deter the more persistent.”

Greg elbowed me in the ribs, ignoring my yelp. Seriously, he had sharp elbows. “That wasn’t exactly what I said.”

I turned and raised an eyebrow. “Really? You threatened one of them with your nail gun.”

He shrugged. “Screwdriver. But it worked, didn’t it?”

It had, however I had been ready to ride the offenders out of town. Greg kissed me—a lot—and told me I didn’t need to go Clint Eastwood on their sorry asses, but he appreciated the sentiment. I kissed him until he melted in my arms. I’d defend Greg to the moon and back.

Liam sighed. “I need to return to work. I have a meeting about the next Dancing Chilis Food Fiesta. See you there, Cash?”

I nodded, thankful Rosie had reminded me of the meeting. I was so lucky to have her.

“I’ll walk with you,” Jim said. “I’m meeting Lindy for lunch.”

As he went to leave, Greg coughed. “Don’t forget Lily’s box, Jim.”

Jim shook his head. “How could I forget that. Sorry, Lily.”

I saw the gentle grins in the room. We all talked about Lily as if she were still here. Greg and I had discussed whether she was still in the house. If she was, we both agreed, she was a gentle spirit, and happy to share the house with us.

He wrapped the box in a soft cloth and placed it in a box, treating it with care. It was old and damaged, but its history was precious.

Finally, the room was empty except for me and Greg.

I took him into my arms, and he sighed, burrowing his face in the crook of my neck.

He pressed a kiss there and we stayed wrapped around each other for a while.

I had the feeling the last hour had overwhelmed Greg and my beautiful man needed some us time.

I traced slow circles over his back in a soothing gesture.

I knew Rosie wouldn’t disturb me until Greg left the room. My assistant deserved a promotion and a raise. I couldn’t keep buying her peonies. I’d talk to Chief Wally.

Greg raised his head and kissed me tenderly. “I should go if I’m going to have any chance of seeing you for dinner this evening.”

I gave a rueful nod. He was right. Even with my newfound delegation skills, I was invariably late for dinner.

“I need to swing by the hardware store, then visit Dex,” he said. “He’s going to help me fix my place for the new sheep.”

“I thought you were fixing up the house first.”

“I can multi-task,” he assured me, “and he’s taking me to an auction next month. We’re looking at rare breeds.”

I shook my head. “I’m never going to see you if you become a farmer.”

Greg chuckled. “We’ll always have porch time, and besides, where are we going to find our next mystery?”