Desert Heat. Kathleen Pickering

FIVE

      MEG MOVED A bit more slowly than usual on the treadmill at the gym this morning. She and Penny had finished that bottle of wine last night. She didn’t drink often, but the combination of the blooms, the scented air and the wine had worked wonders on calming her after the insanity of the day.

      Now she was paying for the indulgence. She usually ran on the treadmill. This morning, jogging made for an easier pace, but she set the timer for an extra twenty minutes to make up for lack of speed.

      In two hours she’d be face-to-face with Butler at the team meeting. God only knew what direction the investigation would take. She’d spent part of yesterday rehashing the notes on the people interviewed who’d last seen the young mother and two teens. There had to be a lead somewhere, though she still couldn’t find it. She wondered what Butler would suggest they do when there were no clues, and nothing but miles of barren desert filled with caves, nooks and crannies in the hills surrounding the town.

      On the other side of the gym, Penny traveled from one weight machine to the other on the cross-training circuit, her usual routine. Meg would do the same after she finished her cardio segment. The girls went to the gym together but worked out separately. Penny had a longer commute than Meg, so they’d decided they could forgo gossip for efficiency. They had plenty of time to talk at home.

      It felt good to be in motion. Meg closed her eyes, concentrating on her movements. The perspiration rising on her skin felt good. Cleansing. She’d pulled her hair into a knot on her head; a sweatband circled her forehead. The new running shoes she’d purchased felt like clouds on her feet. She reached for her water bottle to take another swig and stopped with her hand in midair.

      Penny had just gotten off one of the machines and was chatting up none other than Tico Butler, looking particularly buff in a blue T-shirt and baggy gray gym shorts. His hair, caught in the usual ponytail, gleamed under the overhead lights. He’d fastened his attention on Penny with that intensity Meg was coming to recognize as Butler’s style. As a former object of his scrutiny, she knew it could be either disquieting or comforting, depending on his intent. Penny must have been feeling his welcoming side. By the look on her face she was flirting, big-time.

      Shit!

      Pen’s focus moved from Tico’s face to the tattoo on his right forearm. The momentary widening of Pen’s eyes and her quick glance at Meg betrayed that she’d realized who he was. Butler followed Pen’s gaze, saw Meg and gave her a curt two-finger salute.

      Ignoring him, she continued to drink water, her insides heating up. From Pen’s gestures, it was easy to tell that Pen was explaining her relationship to Meg. Tico nodded, smiled at her roommate and moved on to one of the other machines.

      Wiping her mouth, Meg acknowledged that the man took his physical well-being seriously—his honed physique was a dead giveaway. Any good investigator active in the field would. Darn it all if now her gaze didn’t wander in Butler’s direction over and over. The man was clearly familiar with the equipment; his bulging biceps responded to the repetitive motion as he exercised. Nice. Angry at her gut reaction, she punched the buttons on the treadmill, increasing the speed.

      A major run ought to distract her.

      Ten minutes later, sweating buckets, Meg slowed the treadmill for the cooldown. She glanced across the room. Butler, seated at an ab cruncher, blatantly watched her with admiration on his face. Penny had finished her circuit and, bless her heart, headed toward Meg, blissfully distracting her from the urge to flash Butler a rude hand gesture. So much for last night’s decision to be nice.

      Penny jerked a thumb in Butler’s direction. “Look who I just met.”

      Meg slanted her an impatient glance. “You mean, hit on?”

      Unapologetic, Penny fanned herself. “A new face. A new possibility. Sorry, Meggie, but he is hot!”

      When Meg glared at her, Penny laughed. “Twenty more minutes before we go?”

      Meg peered over Penny’s shoulder. Butler concentrated on his crunches. She refused to start her routine on the circuit with him nearby. “I can leave now.”

      “Oh, don’t be a spoilsport. I told him we’re roommates.”

      “Not best friends?”

      A devilish grin tugged on Pen’s lips. “He might not like me if he knows how close we are.”

      Meg swatted Pen’s arm. “Traitor!”

      “No way! Desperate.”

      Meg laughed. Pen was stunning with her dancer’s body, glowing skin and bright green eyes set against hair mussed just enough to look like sex and fun rolled into one. “Prospecting is more like it. Guys usually don’t know what hit them when they meet you.”

      “So bring ’em on!”

      Meg stopped the treadmill, taking a moment to blot her face with a hand towel. “Butler isn’t going to be in Adobe Creek long. Don’t waste your time.”

      Pen stole a glance in his direction. “I think you should heed Detective Butler’s suggestion and work very, very closely with him, Meg.” She tapped her friend’s hand with a perfectly manicured finger. “A bit of advice from someone who cares.”

      * * *

      BOX IN HAND of a dozen homemade donuts from the coolest little bakery he’d ever seen, Tico barged into the conference room to find everyone present except Eric Longwood. The guys grinned at the sight of the pure white box with the red bow.

      Not Meg.

      She looked as sexy as ever in a black V-neck shirt beneath her gray suit. That alone was enough to make him think one more time that he’d love to see her perched on the back of his Harley.

      But her glare ruined any fantasy of the kind. He saw why when his attention fell on an identical box of donuts already opened and half empty on the table in front of her.

      Tico laughed. “Hey, I said I’d bring the donuts.”

      Meg shrugged. “I took you for a plain-donut type of guy. I didn’t want to be disappointed, so I brought the jelly-filled and the éclairs.”

      Damn. She’d pegged him. “Nothing in here but glazes, plains and cinnamons. Good character read, Detective.”

      Mitchell reached for a glazed donut when Tico opened the box. “I’ll take one. A real donut doesn’t need a dressing.”

      Meg held out a hand. “Then I’ll take back the two jellies you just inhaled.”

      Mitchell grinned. “Check with me after lunch, sweetheart.”

      Jose grimaced. “Oh, that’s disgusting, Mitchell.”

      Bill lifted a hand. “What is this, a donut face-off?”

      Meg’s phone rang. She checked the caller ID, then clicked the phone off without answering.

      “Another bad date trying for a second time?” Mitchell kept just enough playfulness in his voice to keep from sounding patronizing. Tico shook his head, surprised at the animosity this man was showing toward Meg. And here he’d thought this was a tight-knit team.

      Meg shot Mitchell an impatient look. “No. My roommate has developed a sudden interest in this investigation. She can leave a message.”

      “Speaking of roommates.” Tico took the seat next to Meg’s and crooked a finger to beckon her closer. He liked the reluctance in her body language before she finally leaned toward him, a lock of hair falling on her forehead. Was she wearing perfume, or did her skin smell like heaven? He indulged in a slow, deep inhale before speaking. He felt strongly about what he had to say and hoped Meg wouldn’t take it wrong.

      “Your roommate was flirting with me this morning.”

      Meg lifted a brow. “And?”

      “You might want to warn her that starting conversations with strangers around here