Darcie barely waited for the sheriff’s car to disappear before she grabbed both of his hands in hers and pulled him closer. “I spotted you as I was passing by. Isn’t that fortunate?”
“And oh so coincidental, I’m sure.”
She massaged his forearms, and he relaxed. Darcie was nothing if not the touchy-feely type, but who was he to turn down a massage? His right arm could always use the extra attention.
No matter what Darcie said, she had a remarkable way of making it sound like his neighbor’s Abyssinian purring. “I was thinking over what we discussed the other day. The attack on that girl? And then there was that attack on that man in a wheelchair, Arnold Sterling. Do you think they’re related?”
“The thought hadn’t crossed my mind.”
Darcie seemed to have developed the fine art of ignoring
