Fool's Puzzle by Earlene Fowler (reading eggs books .TXT) 📕

have squat to charge him with.”

“Screw things up? I solved this case, Friday. You’d still be out asking questions and writing things in your little notebook if it wasn’t for me. Besides, that was my life you were putting on the line by not telling me what you suspected.”

He moved forward and put his hand over my mouth. “I’m sick of arguing about this. I’ve followed you around like a friggin‘ puppy dog the last week and a half trying to keep you out of trouble. You know, you are the most pig-headed ...”

I pushed his hand away. “Besides your obvious enjoyment at lecturing me and your peculiar interest in my motor vehicle, just why are you here, Ortiz?”

“Actually, your grandmother called me.”

“What?”

“She said that if it was of any interest to me, you were probably ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“She didn’t say, but it was too intriguing to pass up.”

I groaned. I was going to take that braid of hers, wrap it around her neck and pull. Better yet, I’d buy Aunt Garnet a one-way ticket back to San Celina.

“Don’t be too hard on her. I’m sure she meant well.” He reached over and pulled at a strand of my hair. “So, what happened here?”

I shrugged. “It seemed like something to do at the time.”

“Psychologists say that men assert their freedom from authority by growing their hair long and that women show their independence by cutting theirs.”

“You’re always just crammed full of interesting facts, aren’t you?”

He smiled. “It’s cute. I like it.”

“Believe it or not, that really wasn’t one of my considerations when I had it done.”

“New hair,” he said, running his hand gently through it. “Hair grown in the last nine months.”

A part of me wanted to push his hand away, but a bigger part of me didn’t. “Not much gets by you, does it, Sergeant Friday?” I said softly.

“Not the important stuff, querida.”

“Okay,” I said, deciding to get to the point. “This thing between you and me. What is it anyway?”

“What do you want it to be?”

“A question for a question. Is that what life with a cop is like?”

“I’m warning you, it isn’t easy. Interrupted meals, interrupted holidays, interrupted ... well, you get the drift. It’s what broke up my marriage.”

“Just how long are you going to be around these parts?” I asked. I climbed up and sat on the top rail of the fence so we were equal eye level.

He was silent for a moment. “Does it matter?”

I considered his question, then decided to tell the truth. “Yes, it does. I don’t like to start things I can’t see to some sort of finish.”

“So I noticed.” He grabbed the fence on both sides of me and leaned close.

“I have three months left, and they’ve asked me to stay six more. Aaron isn’t getting better as quickly as anticipated.” His face grew pensive for a moment, then he smiled. “After that, who knows? Is that long enough?”

I placed my hands on his shoulders and looked into his crazy gray-blue eyes. “I guess if we can’t figure out something in nine months, then we’re pretty stupid.”

“Sounds about right to me.”

“We’re really different, you know.”

“Yes. I, for example, have some sense.”

I punched him in the chest. “You have a terrible temper. You really need to work on that. And I bet you can’t even ride.”

“I never had a problem with it before I came here. And I rode a horse once. Wasn’t that hard.”

“You are so incredibly arrogant.”

“And that smartass mouth of yours is going to get you in real trouble someday.”

“Oh, this is going to be great fun,” I said.

“Sure is,” he replied and grinned.

“We’ll be in a fishbowl. No privacy whatsoever.”

“Guess I’ll have to get used to it.” He kissed me quickly on the lips, then started to back away. “I’d better get cracking on that starter.”

“Just a minute, Chief Ortiz,” I said. Hooking my boots around his waist, I pulled him back and gave him a kiss he wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked some time later. I was off the fence and pressed against his clean, sweet-smelling shirt, his chin resting on the top of my head.

“About what I’d get if I rebuilt your carburetor.”

I laughed and kissed the bottom of his chin.

“Could you do one thing for me?” he asked.

“Depends.”

“My name’s Gabe.”

I laughed again. “I’ve grown kind of fond of Friday, but I’ll try.”

At that moment, Dove came out and rang the dinner bell.

“Bring the boy in for coffee,” she called.

“She’s enjoying this immensely,” I said as we walked toward the house. “Be prepared to tell your goriest stories. Feel free to be as graphic as you like. Knowing the chief of police on a personal basis will be quite a feather in her hat with the historical society. All those old ladies are a bunch of bloodthirsty ghouls.”

“She sounds like a pistol,” he said, throwing his arm around my shoulder as casually as if we’d known each other for years. “But then, I’m not surprised. Any last piece of advice before I meet her?”

“Yeah,” I said, fitting my arm around his waist and slipping my left hand in the back pocket of his Levi’s. Felt fine, real fine. “Whatever you do, don’t turn your back on her.”

Berkley Prime Crime Books by Earlene Fowler

THE SADDLEMAKER’S WIFE

LOVE MERCY

The Benni Harper Mysteries

FOOL’S PUZZLE

IRISH CHAIN

KANSAS TROUBLES

GOOSE IN THE POND

DOVE IN THE WINDOW

MARINER’S COMPASS

SEVEN SISTERS

ARKANSAS TRAVELER

STEPS TO THE ALTAR

SUNSHINE AND SHADOW

BROKEN DISHES

DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS

TUMBLING BLOCKS