“And how old are you?”
“I’m asking the questions,” she said.
“You’re quite good at this,” he said. “You’re making me kind of nervous.”
“I’ve had training. Do you have a photo ID with you?”
Cameron pulled out his wallet and handed her his Washington state driver’s license. Sofie groaned inwardly. He even managed to look gorgeous on his license photo. This man was just too good to be true.
“Anything else you’d like to know?”
She shook her head. “I guess that will do for now.” She gave him back his license.
“Good.”
Sofie pointed to a battered Jeep sitting a short walk down the main street. When they reached it, Cameron tossed his bag in the backseat and hopped it. The Jeep had no doors, so he fastened his seat belt and braced his feet against the floor.
Sofie slid into the driver’s side and grabbed a pair of sunglasses off the dash. “We’re going to need to get you a proper hat,” she said.
“Like yours?”
She grinned, then took her hat off and placed it on his head. “Yeah, just like mine,” she said, turning the key in the ignition. “It’s a good look on you.”
Sofie made a wide U-turn and headed east out of town. Though her thoughts still strayed into fantasy-land when she looked at the handsome stranger sitting beside her, at least she had a reason to keep him close by. She needed an extra set of eyes and ears to investigate the case she was working on. And with his looks and charm, he’d be the perfect undercover investigator.
2
“WHERE ARE WE GOING?” Cameron shouted.
“Into town,” Sofie said over the sound of the wind and the Jeep.
“Weren’t we just in town?”
She shook her head. “We’re going to Holman. It’s a bigger town. I’m going to check you out, and then, if you’re cool, we’re going to get you some work clothes and get started.”
“So tell me about the case,” he said.
“I’m working for a woman whose husband may or may not be cheating on her. There’s a prenup, but she needs proof before she can file for divorce. Her family has a lot of money and he’s a pretty powerful guy in Albuquerque politics. It’s going to be a messy divorce.”
“What do I do?”
“Mostly anything I can’t,” she said. “No one knows you, and as a guy, you can go places that I can’t without being noticed.”
“Like where?”
“Strip clubs,” she said. “Roadhouses.”
“You’re going to make me go to a strip club?” Cameron asked. He chuckled to himself. Now, this was a job he could get behind.
Maybe his grandfather had the right idea. When would he ever have had the chance to be a private investigator? It was the last thing in the world he could imagine doing for a living. He sat back and turned his face up into the sun.
Though Seattle was home, he couldn’t help but like the midday heat of the desert. And though he first thought the landscape was bare and lifeless, he was quickly learning to appreciate the stark beauty of it.
He had so many questions to ask, but it was impossible to talk with the noise of the wind and the Jeep’s engine. Instead, he made a careful study of the woman he’d now call “boss.”
He was usually more attracted to blondes and had dated the occasional redhead. But Sofie was something different. She was beautiful, but she was also tough and determined, resilient and focused. This was a woman who knew exactly what she wanted in life.
By the time Sofie pulled the Jeep into a parking spot in front of the Holman Public Library, he’d jumped out and circled around to help her out.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said.
“I’m hoping to be your right-hand man,” he said. “So I need to make myself indispensable.”
She reached behind his seat and pulled out a backpack, slinging it over her shoulder. Then he took her hand and steadied her as she hopped out of the Jeep. As they strolled up to the front doors, he realized that her limp was more pronounced. He took the backpack from her and placed his hand on the small of her back. At this point, he was willing to use any excuse to touch her again.
“My hip gets stiff if I stay in one position too long,” she explained. “Like when I’m driving.”
Cameron wanted to ask her about the injury. But he knew she’d tell him when she was ready. “Maybe I should do the driving from now on,” he offered. “Then you can move around a little more.”
She smiled at him and he felt the warmth right down to his bones. “That would be nice,” she said.
When they got inside the library, Sofie headed directly for the reading tables. She opened the backpack and pulled out a small laptop, then signed on to the internet. “Cameron Quinn,” she said, typing his name into a Google search. “Seattle, Washington.”
He grinned as a list of hits came up on her screen. “Try this one,” he said, pointing to the website for Quinn Yachtworks. “I designed this then hired someone to code it all.” He pointed to a picture. “See, that’s me and my three brothers and my grandfather.”
“So you are who you say you are,” she said, glancing over at him. He couldn’t help but notice the reluctant smile that teased at the corners of her mouth.
He reached over and clicked on his bio, and another screen popped up, this with more pictures. She looked at them carefully. “You’re very …”
“Handsome?” he teased.
“Accomplished,” she said. “So explain to me again why you’re looking for a low-paying job in Vulture Creek, New Mexico?”
“My grandfather owns the Yachtworks. He has to decide who to put in charge when he retires. He wants us all to explore our options before we commit to the company for good.”
“Couldn’t you figure that out in Seattle?”
“Yeah. But you don’t know my grandfather. I think he wanted us to see a totally different lifestyle. He sent me to Vulture Creek because I had a childhood dream to be a paleontologist. I guess he thought there were dinosaur bones around here.”
“There are,” she said. “My uncle owns a ranch west of Vulture Creek. He has a wash that’s filled with all kinds of old bones. We used to dig around there when we were kids.”
“Really? I’d like to see that.”
“I could show you,” she murmured. “There are also a lot of Anasazi sites around here. You should see those, as well.”
Cameron reached out and pulled the laptop in front of him. “Can I do a Google search on you?”
“If you have any questions, you can just ask me.” She closed the computer. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“All right. How long have you been a private investigator?”
“About a year and a half.”
“What did you do before that?”
“I was on the police force in Albuquerque for four years,” she said. “I worked patrol at first,