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playing a round with a pretty brunette. At least she remembered his name.
    And with the way he looked at her, as if he’d enjoy strangling her to death right here and now, she wasn’t likely to forget.
    If Adam noticed that his friend was angry, he didn’t acknowledge it. He handed the man one of the beer bottles and said, “You already know Dom. This is Sean Fletcher. She’s been with us—what, three years now?”
    “Four. But who’s counting?” The brunette smiled and leaned her pool stick against the table. “You didn’t tell us you had a date, Adam.”
    “She’s a fire marshal.” Dom knocked the cap from his bottle with a practiced flick against the edge of the table and gave her a cool stare. “Isn’t that right, Miss Solomon?”
    She cleared her throat, hoping her blush didn’t show. “It’s Winter,” she said.
    “Oh, we’re on a first-name basis now. I feel privileged.”
    “Dom.” There was a sharp warning in Adam’s tone, and the other man backed down. A little.
    Sean rolled her eyes. “Anybody ever tell you guys that you’re weird?” she said. “Anyway, it’s nice to meet you, Winter. I’m always glad to see another woman in the profession, you know?”
    “Yes, well, I’m not—” she stammered, and then stopped herself. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to debate semantics. “It’s nice to meet you, too,” she said.
    The ensuing silence stretched toward awkward territory, until Adam finally said, “Well, I promised you’d get to meet the guest of honor. Why don’t we do that?”
    “Yes,” Winter said, trying to keep the relief from her voice. Small talk was not her strong suit, especially in a casual setting. This was why she didn’t socialize with subjects. “I’d like to meet him.”
    Goodbyes were exchanged—Dom’s offered with a good-riddance vibe he didn’t bother to disguise. Winter made a mental note to look into him carefully during the investigation. He didn’t even know her, so his levels of bitterness and resentment put him into the suspicious category.
    And unfortunately, if he and Adam were as close friends as they appeared, it made Adam seem guilty by association.
    She tried to clear those thoughts from her mind as she followed him across the room, sipping at her drink. Business was not supposed to be her goal here—at least, not primarily. Soon they came to a small, round table filled with chatter and laughter, where Adam waved to get the attention of an older man with salt-and-pepper hair and a full, meticulously trimmed moustache.
    The man looked up and smiled, his faded blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “Adam,” he said. “Thanks for putting all this together. Best funeral a man could want.”
    “Well, let’s not put you in the ground just yet,” Adam said with a grin. “I wanted you to meet someone, if you have a minute.”
    “Apparently I’ve got all the time in the world.” The man’s smile flagged for an instant, but it returned full-force as he pushed back from the table and stood to approach them. His gaze settled on Winter, and the warmth in it reminded her of Teddy. She liked him instantly. “Hello there,” he said. “You’re new in town, aren’t you?”
    Before she could stammer something lame, Adam came to her rescue. “Ben Schaeffer, this is Winter Solomon,” he said. “She’s here from the fire marshal’s office.”
    “Really.” Ben smiled and held a hand out. “What a beautiful name,” he said. “Delighted to meet you.”
    “Thank you.” She removed one hand carefully from the glass, hoping it wouldn’t spill, and shook. His hand was big and warm, rough yet comforting. “Congratulations on your retirement,” she said.
    His eyes flashed briefly and settled. “Well now, I wasn’t exactly ready for it,” he said.
    “Oh,” she said softly. “I’m sorry.”
    “It’s just fine, Miss Solomon, and it’s certainly not your fault. There are advantages I’m looking forward to,” he said with a wink.