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felt a psychic pull from him. And knew she couldn’t resist this project, was unsure she could continue to resist him. But one thing she knew was if Emily McGlashen was NMO, it would make a hell of a story. A story she wanted. It reached into to her guts, and she felt it forming there.
    Was Emily McGlashen an NMO member? She had come to town, reclaiming her roots as a McGlashen, part of the Scotch-Irish founding family of what was then called Miller’s Gap, now Cumberland Creek. And she had come as an international Irish step-dancing champion. She had appeared to be on a mission to destroy Vera’s business and to take over the historical society. Maybe, just maybe, they had her all wrong. Maybe she had been on a different kind of mission. And now Annie wanted to find out.
    Annie took a deep breath and stood, gathered her bags. “Okay, Bryant. Where do we start?”
    â€œWe start tonight, if you don’t mind,” he said. “I know it’s Saturday night and all that.” He looked at the ladies. “I don’t think they will mind if I borrow you for just the night.”
    â€œJust one night, Detective,” Sheila said.
    â€œOkay, I’ll give Mike a call and let him know I might be late,” Annie said, following Detective Bryant toward the door. She turned around to find Vera on her heels.
    â€œAnnie,” she said quietly. “Can’t this wait? I mean, I don’t think Mike is going to like you digging around again.”
    â€œVera,” Annie said, “I think Mike is going to have to get over it.”
    Vera’s hand went to her chest in concern, and her brows knit.
    Annie rode in the police car with Bryant to the station, and she called Mike along the way. As predicted, he wasn’t happy, but he felt a little better knowing Annie was with his new best friend.
    Before they left the car, Annie told Bryant what Mike had said. He looked back at her with a pained expression.
    â€œI know you care about him,” she said. “So do I. Believe it or not. Let’s keep this arrangement platonic and professional. If you can’t do that, I won’t help you.”
    â€œAnnie, I—”
    â€œI mean it. Don’t push me,” she said, glaring.
    He leaned back into his seat, then fumbled with the door. “It’s your call, Annie. All of it.”

Chapter 10
    When Beatrice woke up, she was startled momentarily—a man snored softly in her bed. Oh yes. Jon. He had come padding into her room last night, wanting to make love. After, instead of going back to his own room, he had stayed with her. He preferred to sleep with her. Beatrice didn’t feel the same about sleeping with him. She had grown used to sleeping alone and liked it. Just because she didn’t want to sleep with him didn’t mean she didn’t want to have sex with him. She never told him no, always welcomed his touch. Sleeping alone after Ed died had been difficult. But now she liked to spread out and to pass gas and scratch her ass if she wanted to. Hardly attractive.
    She left the room quietly, glancing back at Jon, with his mouth open, snoring a bit. She smiled to herself. He was cute. She loved him madly.
    Now she had a lot of work to do. She’d invited the business professor and his family to Sunday dinner. Vera and Elizabeth were coming, and she hoped her no-good ex-son-in-law would come, as well, sans new girlfriend.
    â€œNow, Bea, she’s a part of my life,” he had told her when she issued the invitation over the phone. “You are going to have to get used to it.”
    â€œLike hell,” Beatrice had said. “She is not welcome in my house. Your ex-wife and daughter will be here, and you are welcome here. Please don’t complicate things by bringing your child bride into my home.”
    â€œBeatrice! She is not a child, and we are not married,” he’d said.
    â€œWell, you might as well be. The way you’ve