“You know how to find the place now?”
“Ella showed me what to look for at the turnoff. Evidently that new invention called street signs hasn’t reached Reed County yet.”
“We’re a little backward,” he admitted, taking a gulp of coffee. It burned as it slid down his throat. “But then, only strangers would need signs, and we don’t get many tourists.”
“Really? The countryside is beautiful, in its fashion. Reed County must be a well-kept secret.” Glancing around the kitchen, she asked, “Do my housekeeping duties include making you breakfast?”
“I’ve already got the oatmeal on.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I’ll do toast. Thanks, anyway.”
He nodded toward the toaster on the counter. “Help yourself.” Getting down a bowl from the cupboard, he stirred the oatmeal.
Someone knocked on the back door.
Cliff swiveled his head that direction, dismayed to find Winifred Bruhn staring at him through the door’s window. Not waiting for an invitation, she marched right into the kitchen.
“Now, isn’t this a cozy domestic scene!” Her gray hair was frazzled and windblown, her omnipresent notebook in her hand.
He leveled her his harshest look, which didn’t seem to faze her. “You’re supposed to wait until someone says come in after you knock.” Her sudden arrival had startled him so badly, he’d nearly dropped the damn pot of oatmeal on the floor.
“Pshaw! I can’t wait on folks when I’ve got a newspaper deadline to meet.” She looked Tasha up and down with the eye of a predator—or someone about to make an arrest on behalf of the morality police. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting this young lady.”
Impatient, and angered by the woman’s unspoken insinuations, Cliff made perfunctory introductions. “What do you want, Winnie?”
“You say she’s your housekeeper?” she asked, busily scribbling notes that would no doubt appear in the local gossip column. And probably be vicious in the conclusions drawn.
“Would you like some coffee, Ms. Bruhn?” Tasha asked smoothly, though a blush had risen to her cheeks.
“She doesn’t have time for coffee. She has a deadline to meet, right, Winnie?”
The woman lifted her nose, sniffing with an air of superiority. “I’ve come by to tell you Bobby Bruhn has decided to run against you for sheriff. I’d like a statement—”
“Bobby? He doesn’t have any law enforcement experience. What makes him think—”
“I assure you, the full weight and influence of the Reed County Register will be behind Mr. Bruhn’s election.”
“He’s your nephew, for crying out loud!”
“It’s time for a change in this county, a breath of fresh air. Now I can print your reaction to Mr. Bruhn’s candidacy or I can indicate, despite the efforts of the press to gain an interview, you were otherwise engaged….” She eyed Tasha pointedly. “And that you had no comment. The choice is yours, Deputy Swain.”
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