Chapter Two
“So I see you do know how to make coffee,” Carmen Zarco said, dressed in the brown deputy uniform she always wore. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she was holding an empty mug. Her dark eyes were unsmiling, but then, Mark didn’t think she ever smiled.
“Of course I know how to make coffee,” he replied as he reached for the carafe, which was still filling, and held it up to pour her a mug and then himself.
Carmen set her mug down, reached for a packet of sugar and powdered creamer, and stirred them both in using one of the clean spoons Gail kept organized at the coffee station. She said nothing else.
Carmen wasn’t known for talking. Maybe that was why she and Mark got along so well, but then, what did he know about a woman who held her cards close to her ches
