CHAPTER 19
THE SHOES PUZZLED her. riley watched Nate’s feet as he climbed down the ladder and dumped the cleaning bucket down the storm drain. They were nice shoes, good quality leather, sturdy soles, black, understated, and three or four notches above the serviceable suit he wore. They were the shoes of a man who needed to be sure on his feet. This guy was a cop. As he squatted to tap the last of the spent plums from the bucket, she glimpsed a peek of shoulder holster, clinching it.
She took in his long, lean build, dark hair and dimples. The dimples would do her in if she wasn’t careful. He handed her the bucket and took the ladder off her hands, manhandling it into the garage, returning it to its place in the corner.
“What brings you to the neighborhood, officer?”
“Well, aren’t you
