Carter hated liars almost as much as he hated petty thieves and vandals. In seven years with the bureau, he’d learned that small crimes stemmed from the same lack of regard for others that fostered larger crimes.
“Can I help you?” An old guy with spidery veins covering his ruddy cheeks stood at the cash register.
Carter paused long enough to hold up the screw. “Can you tell me where I can find these?”
He took a moment to peer at it. “Aisle nine.”
“Thanks.” Carter moved on. He hoped to run into Liz’s ex while he shopped. But he found a new paint roller and the right screws without meeting anyone else, so he wandered about the store until he heard voices coming from the nursery that leaned against one side of the building.
Sure enough, there was a tall dark-blond man inside. Judging by his T-shirt, which had Ollie’s Hardware written across it in red, and by his approximate age, Carter guessed he’d found Keith.
Taking a well-worn dirt path that snaked through the plants, Carter drew closer and listened as Keith spoke to a middle-aged woman and her teenage son. They wanted advice on getting rid of snails in their garden without using pesticides.
Carter paused while Keith answered, using the time to examine a stone birdbath in front of him.
Finally, the teenager hefted a bag of potting soil over his shoulder, and he and his mother headed out of the nursery.
Carter sauntered closer.
“Can I help you find something in particular?” Keith asked.
Carter took in the sharp angles of the other man’s face. Keith appeared to be fit and healthy, and Carter guessed most women would find him attractive. But the way his clothes hung on him suggested he’d lost weight recently. Was he depressed? Skipping meals? Experimenting with drugs?
Carter wished he could ignore such details, the way most other people did. But it was the minutiae that made the difference in an investigation. Noticing had become second nature to him. “You’re Keith O’Connell?”
Keith’s eyebrows shot up. He wasn’t wearing a name badge, probably because there wasn’t any need for it. In a town this size, most folks would already know who he was. “Have we met?”
“I’m new in Dundee. I work for Senator Holbrook.”
“Oh, right.” He looked Carter over thoroughly. “I hear you went out with my ex-wife last night.”
“I went out with one of them,” Carter corrected.
His pointed allusion to Keith’s past prompted a tightening about the mouth and a quick retaliation. “Yeah, well, from what I hear, she wasn’t very excited about your dinner together.”
Keith’s dig bothered Carter, and that surprised him. He hadn’t cared about anything for a long time. But he’d made no effort to endear himself to Liz and he knew he couldn’t expect any better. Anyway, he had no real interest in a woman with emotional baggage. He had too much of his own. “I guess I’m not very good at small talk,” he said.
“I can see that,” Keith replied. “It’s almost as if you came here just to piss me off.”
Carter held up the new roller he meant to purchase. “Actually, I came to get a few supplies, too. Otherwise, I couldn’t make the improvements at the chocolate shop.”
Keith’s jaw dropped. “The what?”
“You heard me.” Carter suspected he was being too combative. He didn’t even know Keith. But since the numbness that set in after Laurel’s death had worn off, the darker emotions simmering beneath his skin sometimes got the best of him—especially when he found a target as deserving as a man who’d cheated and lied to the extent that Keith had done.
“Did Liz ask for your help?”
“The senator suggested it.”
Liz’s ex stepped closer, giving Carter the impression he wasn’t the type to back down from a fight. “Well, you can forget about it. She doesn’t need you. She’s got me.”
Carter eyed Keith’s hands, which had nearly doubled into fists. He waited to see if Keith would take a swing at him, but when Keith made no move, he said, “Evidently it’s not happening fast enough.”
“I’ll get to it.”
“No need,” Carter said. “The place will be painted before you can get off work.”
“That’s all you wanted to tell me? That you’re helping Liz—and that you can get it done quicker than I can?”
“No. There’s one more thing.”
Keith’s nostrils flared. “What’s that?”
“If you’re the person who ripped her sink from the wall, you’d better not try that shit again,” he said and stalked off.
“Who the hell do you think you are, you arrogant son of a bitch?” Keith called after him.
Carter didn’t respond. He’d already made his point. Besides, he wasn’t arrogant. He was angry.
CHAPTER FIVE
LIZ WRUNG HER HANDS TOGETHER as she stood at the door of Isaac’s classroom, barely able to resist the urge to barge in while he was teaching. She wasn’t sure what she expected him to do about their father’s unexpected arrival. But she wanted to warn him. Isaac hadn’t spoken to Gordon for years, hadn’t even bothered with a Christmas card. Liz had encouraged him to do what he could to improve the relationship, but Isaac had no patience for any talk of reconciliation. He couldn’t understand how Gordon could have allowed Luanna to do what she’d done to Liz.
To be honest, Liz couldn’t understand it, either. Her father had probably been lonely and in love, she told herself. He had needs, too. But Luanna had been downright cruel, at least to Liz. And Gordon hadn’t interfered.
At last, the class bell rang, tinny and loud enough to rattle Liz’s nerves. Taking a moment to regain her composure, she threaded her way through a crowd of high school students surging past her.
She spotted Isaac sitting on the edge of his desk, wearing a pair of chinos and a blue short-sleeved shirt. He was speaking with a female student. “You’re making it more difficult than it has to be,” he said calmly. “The number of electrons surrounding the nucleus of an atom is equal to the number of protons inside.”
The girl scrunched up her nose. “Always?”
“Always,” he replied. “And the number of the element on the periodic chart is the number of protons in that element’s nucleus.”
She smacked her forehead. “Now I get it.”
“It’s that easy.” Catching sight of Liz over the girl’s head, Isaac started to get up.
The student grabbed his forearm. “But what do I use to build my model?”
“Anything you want.” He gently extricated himself, as if he’d had ample practice slipping out of the clutches of overenthusiastic teenage girls. “That’s the fun of it. You can be creative.”
“I like this class.” The adoration in the student’s voice indicated she was far more interested in her handsome teacher than in the subject he taught.
Liz raised her eyebrows at her brother and Isaac blushed. The student’s crush obviously embarrassed him. “You’ll do fine,” he said as he shepherded her to the door. “Model’s due on Monday. Don’t forget.”
The girl cast a jealous glance at Liz before stepping outside. Clearly she wasn’t pleased she’d lost her audience with Isaac so soon. If