Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

" O h. My. God. This su-u-ucks," Josie moaned.

Corey let out a short breathy laugh. "It's not that bad."

"Ugh. Yes, it is." In complete and utter misery, she threw herself against the back of the chair.

Her brother no doubt would have accused her of being a drama queen had he been here. Luckily, he wasn't and apparently Corey was only amused by her misery, judging by his soft snort of a laugh.

As she draped over the back of the metal folding chair, she felt the pull of stiff muscles from being in the same position, hunched over the desk, for way too long.

"This has to be one of the top two suckiest mornings of my life," she continued.

The number one suckiest slot was taken, of course, by the day she realized she'd somehow lost the town's founder's compass.

With a deep sigh, she straightened up. She couldn't take the back of the chair digging into her spine any longer.

"Okay. If you say so." He laughed again, his eyes still focused forward rather than back at her.

She scowled. She didn't see anything amusing in this situation. The mind-numbing task before them was unbearable. As was the place where they were forced to do it.

They had hours and hours of video to go through. Even sped up it was taking forever. And they had to do it in the cramped, hot, minuscule security room—which no doubt was really a broom closet or a utility room—located in the back of the gas station.

There was barely space for two chairs side by side in the allotted area. And the fact Corey was built bigger than a normal human didn't help.

Did he have to keep bumping into her with his big thick bulging arms? And were his legs really that long that his knee had to keep knocking into hers?

And the heat! The length of his thigh that rested against hers was like a furnace, heating her leg and radiating out to the rest of her body.

This situation was as bad—no, worse—than being wedged in those tiny airplane seats in economy class next to a big guy who liked to manspread while hogging the armrest.

And in here, there wasn't even a flight attendant with a refreshment cart to offer her something cold to drink with a bag of pretzels. She could only hope this morning's endeavor would not last as long as her cross country flight from California to New York had.

There was nothing she could do about how long this would take. But the other thing—the fact she was parched and hot and cranky—she could control.

Pushing the folding metal chair back with a loud scrape against the scarred and dingy floor she said, "I'm gonna go out to buy something to drink?—"

"Wait!" Corey said behind her as she turned and reached for the doorknob.

What was with the sense of urgency? Jeez, if he wanted something, all he had to do was stand up and get it himself. A fully-stocked convenience store attached to the gas station was located—conveniently—just on the other side of the ugly gray metal door.

But since he was staying to watch while she was taking a much-needed break, she said patiently, and magnanimously if she did say so herself, "Did you want something?"

When he didn't answer, she turned back to see if he'd even heard her. But what she saw was Corey leaning forward toward the screen. His nose almost touching the black and white image— And why did he have such a perfectly shaped nose? Dammit. She'd always hated her own.

Finally, he leaned back and glanced at her.

Pointing at the screen, he said, "You just came out of the library."

There was an element of excitement in his tone that confused her. "Yeah, Columbo. I know. I was there. That's not a revelation."

Lips pressed tightly he drew in a chest-expanding breath through his perfect nose. "No, but your lawn boy Kirk being there is."

That's what he was all excited about?

She rolled her eyes. "I know. He came upstairs to see who was in the building. We talked for like two minutes, then he walked me out."

"Mmm-hmm." Corey nodded. "And then he went back in."

She opened her mouth to defend the guy, but puzzle pieces began to fall together in her brain. Kirk staring at the shelf where the compass was, but not wanting to go inside to take a closer look. Kirk showing up at the house unannounced this morning, all friendly and talkative— maybe to determine if she'd noticed the compass was missing yet?

Holy shit.

"Yeah, holy shit is right," Corey echoed her thought exactly and she realized she'd spoken the words aloud. He leaned back in the chair and folded those massive arms across his chest. "What are we going to do about it?"

It was a very good question—not that she was going to tell Corey that.

Dammit. Kirk had seemed so nice. How could he have pulled one over on her?

"I guess we should talk to him. Ask why he went back inside. Ask if he saw anyone in the library while he was there." See if he's acting nervous, like a thief would, she added silently.

Corey let out a snort. "Yeah. All that, or we can ask him where he stashed the compass he stole. Or who he sold it to."

Not willing to convict Kirk just yet, she said, "We don't know he took it."

"We don't know he didn't," Corey countered.

"Then I guess we should go find him and find out."

Corey delivered one firm nod and stood with a screech of metal chair legs against old timey linoleum. "I guess we should."

They were agreeing with each other, so she wasn't sure why their words and tone sounded like they were fighting. But it definitely did.

Whatever.

Time to straighten this all out once and for all.

She spun on the soles of her Converse and strutted out the door of the tiny room. Past the clerk selling lottery tickets, past the delivery guy restocking the beer on the shelves, and out the door.

Then she stopped when she realized Corey had driven. It was his mom's car and he had the key. Folding her arms, toe tapping, she waited for him to unlock the doors.

He did more than that. He swung open the passenger side door and stood back, waiting for her to get in.

She wasn't used to men opening car doors for her. She definitely wasn't expecting Corey to do it. Gentleman wasn't the word that came to mind when she thought of Corey Jacobs.

At a loss for words, she got in. She probably should have thanked him, but he closed the door too quickly. He'd waited just long enough to make sure all her limbs were safely inside and then slammed the door before walking around the hood and getting in himself.

Corey Jacobs—high school hockey team star, frequent attendee in detention for one offense or another, player who never stayed with a girl for longer than it took for him to find another one—was opening car doors. For her.

Weird.

But she had more important things to think about than that right now. For one, Kirk and the fact, judging by the set of Corey's jaw, he intended to go in hot with the accusations once they found the poor guy.

When they pulled up to her house, she feared she was right in her prediction. There was no gentlemanly opening of her door once he stopped the car with one hard stomp on the brake pedal.

Kirk was still there, in the midst of mowing the lawn. Unaware of the peril as Corey got out of the car and slammed the door hard enough to rock the vehicle.

With eyes wide with fear and dread, Josie watched him storm toward Kirk.

Uh oh. This was bad.

She glanced quickly at the driveway and saw Quinn's rental car wasn't there. Then she remembered. He and Bailey had taken the train to the city to meet with her manager, Xander.

That meant Quinn wasn't even here to break up the fight—should there be a fight. And the way Corey was striding toward Kirk, there just might be.

Crap.

Seeing him approach, Kirk cut the engine on the mower and waited for Corey to reach him. He had no idea what was about to be thrown at him. Josie knew though.

She flung the car door open, scrambled out and sprinted after Corey.