Chapter 18

18

Special Agent Jack Stone

T he Pinecone Perk sits over Sugar Pine Lake with enough rustic charm to shake out the chill from the morning air.

"Ooh, I'm having the pumpkin spice latte," Fallon is quick to tell me as the thick scent of coffee envelops us.

"I'm having something dark and brooding," I grunt as I take in the explosion of fall decorations, more pumpkins than a pumpkin patch, and there are even a few spiderwebs stretched out over the menu board as a precursor to spooky season.

It's the morning after the debacle at the strip club, where Fallon actually contemplated selling her soul to the devils who run the underground in Denver.

I'll admit, I lost a little sleep last night because of it. I didn't dare tell her that under no circumstances was she to do any such thing. A part of me is afraid that might just give her a push in the wrong direction.

I haven't quite figured out how to handle this one.

I frown over at her. I haven't quite figured out how to handle Fallon. She's fiercer than any other woman I've been with. Not that I've been with Fallon. But I want to. And suddenly, I want far more than that.

She leans my way. "You know how they say dog owners look like their pooches?" She gives Buddy's head a quick scratch as she says it. "I think you emulate your choice of java perfectly, dark and brooding."

I openly frown at her once again. "All right, Pumpkin Spice, what's the game plan?"

"Don't call me that."

"You walked into it."

She averts her eyes. "The plan is for you to turn up your charm. Flirt with her a little. I don't know. I'll buy her a cinnamon roll."

I contacted Jewel Barrett this morning and she agreed to meet with Fallon and me here in Sugar Pine Lake where she's still busy with the book convention just days away. Nikki opted out. She's knee-deep in the forensics lab and Fallon and I are planning on meeting up with her soon.

We step in line as the warm scent of cinnamon rolls and coffee comes at us strong, mingling with the faint crackle of a fireplace tucked away in the corner.

It's cozy. Most women eat this stuff up. It relaxes them. Puts them in a better mood. And that's exactly what I'm hoping it'll do to Jewel.

The windows offer a panoramic view of the lake as a gentle mist rolls over the water, giving this place all the appeal of a horror movie.

Inside, the café buzzes with the low hum of morning chatter and far too loud jazz music blaring overhead.

The entire place holds the warmth of a lakeside cabin with exposed wooden beams and lots of river stones riding up the walls.

Buddy walks my way and wags his tail expectantly. I checked ahead, and since dogs were welcome, I figured we'd bring him along for the outing.

"See that? He's happy," I say, giving him a hearty pat. "That means he likes the new food."

"He does like it," Fallon admits with a scowl. "But right now, I think he's hoping to score one of those cinnamon rolls."

"It's as good as his."

Buddy, ever the socialite, finds quick friends among the patrons, and his tail wags twice as fast at anyone who spares him a glance.

"Let me guess"—Fallon hikes a brow my way, and something about that look on her face sends me to indecent places—"you're having a cinnamon roll, too?"

"What can I say? I'm a growing boy. Besides, I need to make sure it's quality stuff before I land one in front of him."

We step forward and Fallon places her order, the pumpkin spice disaster and a couple of extra cinnamon rolls. My guess is she's included herself and Jewel in the sticky equation. I put in my order as well and ante up for the both of us.

Fallon pulls one of the cinnamon rolls close as they arrive.

"What can I say?" She shrugs my way. "I'm a growing girl. And I should probably make sure they're decent for the both of us."

"You're funny," I flatline as we collect our goods.

We make our way to a table near the window just as Jewel arrives. The ample blonde looks well put together in a cranberry dress that drapes her body without hugging her form. She grabs her coffee and Fallon waves her over to us.

"I grabbed you a cinnamon roll," Fallon says. "And they're divine."

And now it's time to grab us a divine clue or two, and maybe a killer.