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you’re dying for me to ask you out.” He extended his arms outward. “I’m yours for the taking. Just say the word.” His eyes gleamed a wicked challenge.
    When he wasn’t putting on his macho cowboy act, he could be dangerously attractive. “In your dreams.” I was relieved when my phone rang. It was Tugg summoning me to his office. No doubt he’d be expecting some answers, and other than a few hunches, I had zip.
    Tugg motioned for me to close the door when I entered. “Well, Kendall, what have you been able to come up with?”
    I told him my thoughts concerning the two bodies found in the desert. If they were the ones Dexter had referred to in his note, I would need a little more time for Roy to get comfortable with me, thereby making it easier to ask for the files.
    He looked thoughtful. “What you need is a good cover story.”
    “I have an idea. Ginger told me about some of the problems with homeless girls in this area and a little about the Desert Harbor Shelter. Why don’t I do a series on the runaway problem? That would allow me to do some snooping and not tip our hand.”
    His eyes filled with admiration. “That’s a great idea! And what’s more, you can tie it into the annual fund raiser coming up weekend after next at Whispering Winds.”
    “What’s that?” He explained that one of the locals, Eric Heisler, had gone on to become a successful Phoenix attorney and had turned the old Rocking Z dude ranch into a first class tennis club visited by the wealthy, the beautiful people from the world of show business, and the tennis circuit. The event had been the brainchild of his divorced, twice widowed mother, socialite Thena Rodenborn. Why not, she’d suggested, tap into this elite clientele to gather funds for some of the local charities including her favorite, the girls’ shelter?
    “You can get some background information beforehand by talking to Thena and to the woman who runs the place. Phillips I think her name is,” Tugg said. “Tell ’em the publicity will alert more people and bring in extra bucks for their pet projects. Then you can cover the fund-raiser itself and you may be able to pick up more tidbits there.” He paused and gave me a questioning look. “So, what did you think of Roy when you met him?”
    I hesitated, hating to tell him Roy seemed like a hell of a nice guy, and that perhaps he was all wrong in thinking the sheriff was involved in anything questionable.
    “Ah…he seemed friendly enough. We’ll see how cooperative he is when I ask to see the crime report on those two girls.”
    “Good work. You’re your father’s daughter all right.” He stood, came around the desk and patted me on the shoulder. “I’m confident you’ll find out what happened to John.”
    As he ushered me from his office, I sincerely hoped he was right. So far, as an investigative reporter, I’d given myself a big fat F.
    On the way back to my desk, I collided with Bradley as he rounded the doorway. His hands shot out to steady me, and for the brief time I was pressed against him, the unexpected tingle I experienced left me disconcerted. I sprang back, mumbling my apology.
    “So what time shall I pick you up tonight?” He tipped back his hat, his eyes brimming with mischief. “Six? Seven?”
    I eyed him with suspicion, wondering if he had planned the accidental encounter. “I can’t tonight.”
    “I could make it eight if that’s more convenient.”
    “If nothing else, you’re persistent.”
    “How about Mexican food? I heard through the grapevine, you’ve never eaten it.”
    “Yes, I have.”
    His expression was scornful. “I don’t mean that frozen crap, and I don’t mean one of those places like Taco Stop. I mean the authentic stuff.”
    “Thanks, but I’m due over at Ginger’s this evening. Perhaps another time.”
    “I’ll hold you to that,” he said firmly. As he walked out I tried not to notice what great buns he had. I was anxious to get to Ginger’s house and