The Heat Is On

BY THE TIME BELLA finished talking to Ethan at the po lice station, it was nearly two, which was when her shift ended. She checked in with Willow, who told her that there was still yellow crime scene tape blocking off the shop, so she’d never opened for the day, disappointing their customers.

All those delicious pastries and cakes, going stale…

Ethan drove Bella home from the station. Home was, temporarily at least, one of the two small apartments above Edible Bliss.

“You’re new to town,” Ethan said lightly, idling at the curb while Bella unhooked her seat belt.

They’d been over this, but she nodded. “Yes.”

“You planning on sticking?”

“I don’t tend to stick, I never intended to stick.”

“Are you…unsticking anytime soon?”

“Not this week.”

“Good enough,” he said. “Thanks for cooperating this morning.”

She’d been raised right enough that she automatically thanked him in return, even though she had no idea what she was thanking him for. Asking intrusive questions? Plying her with bad cop coffee until she was so jittery she was in danger of leaping out of her own skin? He seemed like a good cop and a decent man, but she was on overload now, facing an adrenaline crash. “How long until we can go back inside?”

“Another couple of hours, tops. Just long enough to let CSI finish. You’ll call me if you think of anything else you can tell me?”

“Yes,” she said, then asked him the question she’d been wondering all day. “Are you Jacob’s partner?”

“We work together sometimes, but not on this case.”

Something in his voice had her taking a second look at him.

“Conflict of interest,” he clarified.

She hesitated, knowing that they both knew she was the conflict of interest. “Is he in trouble?”

He started to say something and then stopped.

“Is he?”

“For being with you? No. For not being able to keep his nose out once he’s feeling protective about someone he cares about? Not yet, but give him a day or two.”

“We’re not together. It was…just a one-night thing. You need to make sure your commander, or whatever he’s called, knows that. I don’t want Jacob to be in trouble over me.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

She nodded, ignoring the unease in the indent of her gut, and got out of the car. She looked at the front door to the shop. Edible Bliss, the cute little paisley sign read. The interior was just as unique. Done up like a sixties coffeehouse, the colors bold and happy.

And just a little psychedelic.

She loved it here.

But at the moment, she also hated it.

There was still yellow crime tape blocking the front door. Willow was sitting on the steps. She was forty, tiny, with a dark cap of spiky hair tipped in purple this week. Her eyebrow piercing glinted in the sun as she watched Bella approach with a worried tilt to her mouth.

It’d been a while since Bella had stayed anyplace long enough to make friends, been a long time since she’d wanted to, but Santa Rey had snagged her by the heartstrings.

So had Willow. They’d spent only a month together, but it felt like more. She sank to the step at Willow’s side. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault.” Willow had sweet, warm eyes and a smile to match, and she hugged Bella tight. “We don’t see a lot of murder in Santa Rey,” she murmured. “They asked me a bunch of questions and I didn’t get to ask any of my own. Do you suppose they have any leads?”

“At the moment, I might be their only one.”

Willow pulled back, clearly shocked. “They suspect you?”

“I think it’s standard procedure to suspect everyone.”

Willow was quiet a moment. “It’s probably not appropriate to ask, given what’s happened, but I never got to ask you. How did last night go? Date number eight?”

In spite of everything, Bella felt herself soften. “Nice.”

Willow blinked, then let out a slow grin. “Honey, a smile that like means a whole helluva lot more than nice.”

“Yes, well, it got complicated.”

“Uh-huh. Most good stuff is. Is he good looking?”

“Yes.”

“Good kisser?”

“Willow—”

“Oh, come on. I haven’t had a date in three months. Let me live vicariously through you.”

“Yes,” Bella breathed on a whisper of a laugh. “He’s a good kisser. But—”

“Oh, crap. There’s a but?”

“A big one, actually. He’s the detective assigned to this case. Or he was, until it was established that he’d slept with the person who found the dead guy.”

Willow stared at her. “Oh, shit, Bella.”

“Yeah. That about covers it.”

They stood together and walked past the yellow tape to the alley between the building and the one next door. It was narrow and lined with two trash cans. Passing through, they came to the rear of the shop, where there was more yellow tape across the back door.

Bella took in the sight of the stoop and shivered. Willow hugged her, then they took the stairs to the second-story landing. Her boss moved to her door. “You going to be okay?”

“Abolutely.”