Colton 911: Deadly Texas Reunion

“So her killer is still out there. Thus the family’s hiring you.”

“Exactly.”

He returned the pages of notes to her desk. “I think I mentioned that my cousins were talking a bit about the case at dinner. They’ve been pretty deeply involved with solving the Mummy Killer case and some other goings-on around town lately. I’ll talk to them this afternoon and see what insights they might have that would help us. Things the police may not have shared with the family yet.”

Summer perked up. “That’d be great! I’d planned to start interviewing some of Patrice’s friends today. Want to divide the list?”

Nolan stroked Yossi’s fur and shook his head. “Let’s go together. Two sets of ears are better than one. I might pick up on something you miss—” her frown returned, and he added quickly, “—or vice versa.”

Summer was certainly touchy about anyone denigrating her work or her abilities. What was that about? She’d always been such a confident and carefree kid when they’d hung out together those summers twenty years ago. Granted, a lot could happen, a lot could change in that many years. Not the least of which were her physical changes. The spindly-legged, flat-chested tomboy was gone, replaced by a beautiful, curvy woman with bedroom eyes that could seduce you in a heartbeat. Also the same were her expressive face and tendency to use big gestures as she talked. Summer had always been animated, full of life, with a magnetic personality. As a kid she’d played counterpoint to his quieter nature and penchant for observing rather than diving in and damning the torpedoes. Apparently that synergy still existed, still dovetailed with something in his soul, because he felt an old familiar warmth and tenderness toward her expanding in his chest.

He’d spelled out the need for the two of them to keep their working relationship platonic as much as a warning and reminder for himself as a guide for her. He’d sat across from her in the diner and been swamped with all kinds of nonplatonic urges. He’d had to remind himself about every five minutes that it was Summer sitting there looking like forbidden fruit. Every teasing twitch of her bow-shaped lips and disapproving wrinkle of her pixie-like nose spiked his pulse. Her thick golden hair and bedroom brown eyes had—Damn it! He was waxing poetic about her again. He pinched his nose and battled away the tug of lust.

“…her first. Sound good?” Summer was saying when he refocused his attention.

He cleared his throat, digging his fingers into her cat’s fur and nodding stupidly. “Um, sure.”

What had he just agreed to?

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