Blue Jeans and a Badge by Nina Bruhns Page B

mom said Santa’s image was a comfort to me when I was first adopted, so she indulged my obsession.”
    Philip’s laughter caught in his throat. He pulled her to him and kissed her temple. “Well, I think it’s sweet. We’ll have to find one for you with a southwest flair. Maybe one landing on a cactus in the fireplace or something.”
    She chuckled and nestled in his embrace. “You don’t think it’s silly?”
    â€œNothing wrong with silly,” he said, and kissed her. “So, do you have fantasies about Santa, too? You know, like maybe after he’s done with the presents he sneaks into your bedroom and—”
    â€œPhilip!” she squeaked, scandalized, pushing out of his arms with a giggle. “You are so bad!” She marched off toward the front entrance.
    â€œJust wondering if I should get myself a red suit,” hecalled after her, raising the curious head of a guard along the way.
    By the time he’d chased her back to where they’d parked the Jeep, she was laughing and put up only a token fight when he swept her into his arms and gave her a proper kiss. The one he’d been wanting to give her all day.
    â€œYou need to quit doing that in uniform,” she sighed when he finally let her up for air. “People are getting the wrong impression.”
    â€œAre they?” he asked, giving her a last quick one for the road. “I don’t think so.”
    Â 
    Ted’s sheriff’s cruiser was already parked out front when Philip pulled up to the Shamrock Slipper. He was excited about getting some possible good information on Clyde Tafota. But he was even more excited about showing off Luce to his friends.
    Half the town would be at the Slipper, either for happy hour or dinner, and he knew they’d be curious about the pretty stranger staying solo at the Lakeview Motel, it not being tourist season and all. He also knew Betsy would have informed anyone who’d listen that he’d taken the lady out in his Jeep for two days running, on what he said was a case. He could just imagine the speculation. Usually he was more circumspect with his affairs, but for some reason he wanted everyone to know Luce was his. Even though they weren’t exactly having an affair.
    Yet.
    Ted was at the bar chatting with Betsy and Rich, the bartender, and a few other locals, when Philip ushered Luce into the restaurant with a hand to the small of her back. Everyone looked up and greeted him, and he took his time exchanging a few words at each table. “This is Luce Montgomery,” he said, “She’s helping me on the Soffit and Dickson robbery.”
    Most people wouldn’t pry into a police investigation, buthe knew they were all curious, especially about the fate of Jim Kendall, who was currently sitting in the county jail despite his protests of innocence. He and his sister, Suzy—Dickson’s secretary—were native Piñon Lakers, their late parents having settled there some fifty-odd years ago. So naturally the townspeople mostly believed Jim, despite the circumstantial evidence to the contrary.
    Anyway, no one asked why Luce was helping with the investigation, or who exactly she was, for which Philip was grateful. He didn’t want word getting around he was working with a bounty hunter. Not until they’d settled this Clyde Tafota thing one way or another.
    When they finally made it around to the bar, he introduced Luce to Ted, and Betsy led them to a small square table in the back. The whole time they were taking their seats and Betsy was chatting on about blue-plate specials and fresh trout, Ted sat staring at Luce with a puzzled frown.
    â€œI’ll just have my usual, darlin’,” Ted told Betsy, and studied Luce as she decided what to order.
    Philip was getting more and more annoyed with his friend. Not that he had anything to worry about. Ted was on the downside of his fifties, balding and