From the Ashes (Witches of The Demon Isle Book 8) by Rachel Humphrey-D'aigle Page B

fellow, wearing a tweed jacket and an energetic smile with kind eyes that seemed to dance with laughter, and were honed in on Mack.
    “I say, are you by chance, Mackenzie Briggs, the local sheriff?” his accent was thick and British, but he spoke like he’d been in the states long enough to pick up some local slang.
    Mack lifted her coffee and took one long swallow, finished it off and slammed down the mug. “Had to say I sat down long enough to do that.” She got up and addressed the man. “Yes, I’m the sheriff. How can I help ya?”
    “Oh, splendid. Indeed, splendid. I was about to find your office and my driver told me no need, you’re right here, and here you are.” He looked as though he’d won some unexpected prize.
    “Yes, indeed I am,” she returned evenly, adjusting her gun belt.
    The man ogled her up and down. “A woman in uniform…” he purred in what should have been an enticing invitation, but Mack was having none of it. 
    Melinda almost snorted out of her nose.
    “How can I help ya?” Mack questioned all business-like.
    “Dinner. Tonight.” The man stated as if the matter, settled.
    “Excuse me?”
    “Oh, I do have actual business, but I’m afraid you’ve rather blown me off my feet and nearly made me forget why I pulled over.”
    Melinda covered her mouth with her hand, holding in a laugh. She had never seen a man so bold, with Mack as his target. The sheriff cast her a haughty side-glance and ignored the man’s dinner remark.
    “How about you state your business.”
    “Ah, yes. Where are my manners?” He bowed his head in greeting. “I am Nethaniel Dante, owner of the Channel Four TV Station.”
    “Well, so’in ya are.” Mack had known this fact when the car pulled up. “Nice to meet ya, Mr. Dante. Welcome to our island.” She remained professional.
    “Oh, just Ned, if you please. No need for formalities. And I find The Demon Isle most hospitable. Especially now I see the island beauty I’ve been missing out on.”
    Mack exhaled sharply. “Mr. Dante…” her gaze shot daggers of watch it, Mister! I’ve got a gun and I’m very willing to use it. Which only enticed him further.
    He let out another trilling purr and growled out, “Fiery. Untamed. Bloody delicious.”
    Mack opened her mouth to retaliate when Ned Dante continued.
    “Although I hope you accept my dinner invitation, I’m afraid I do need your professional skills as well. I’m sure you’re spot on at what you do.” He tossed her a playful wink. “I’m afraid I need to file a missing person’s report. You see, one of my employees has up and gone missing.”
    “Missing?” replied Mack seriously, ignoring the man’s audacious flirting.
    Melinda’s eyebrow lifted, listening in. She sure hoped this had nothing to do with the vampire. This Mr. Dante was not only cheeky, and keen on Mack, but in charge of the local news, and the D.E.S.I. Reporter, Courtney Jessup. Who’d quit.
    The man let out a tense sigh, taking on a sobered pose. “My newest employee. Courtney Jessup. Bloody shark of a reporter. Started here a few weeks ago and a few days ago, she quit on me without any decent excuse. But now she’s all but disappeared.”
    “If she quit, she probably left the Isle,” suggested Mack, hoping to make quick work of this situation. The way the man ogled her sent a twitch down her spine she hadn’t felt in… well… far too many years to give two shakes about now!
    “I may not have known Courtney Jessup long, but I would wager my life she’s not the up and quit type. And without collecting a single paycheck? Leaving behind all her personal and professional belongings?” Ned had the sheriff there, couldn’t deny there was reason to question.
    Mack’s gaze pinched together and she cast a wary glance down at Melinda. The sheriff was getting a sinking feeling the woman was actually missing, or in some kind of trouble. Supernatural or otherwise.
    “I’ll see you later, Mack,” Melinda whispered,