Page 41 of Solid as Steele
Owen suspected he didn’t say it quite so nicely as this comment wouldn’t likely be enough to make the woman who worked in a sheriff’s office frown.
“Have a seat.” She pointed at the stiff wooden chairs in the small lobby that were worn from years of use. “And help yourself to coffee or water.”
“Thank you.” Owen made sure to smile at her. People in these front-end positions were invaluable when it came to getting needed information. If the sheriff blew them off, maybe he could count on her.
“You want coffee?” he asked Mackenzie as she settled into a chair and scooted around as if trying to get comfortable.
“I’m good.”
He sat next to her, and his leg automatically started bobbing. Now that he knew his identity, the last thing he wanted to do was sit around and cool his heels.
Mackenzie pressed her hand on his knee. “If you don’t relax a bit, you’ll burn yourself out.”
He would. He knew that. But there was no better cause to burn out on than finding his sister’s killer.
Mackenzie couldn’t miss the skepticism on Wheeler’s face as he propped his shoulder against the open secure door but didn’t come all the way into the waiting area. “So you remember who you are.”
“I do,” Owen said confidently.
Sheriff Wheeler eyed Owen. “Called your LT. Told me you’ve worked for him for three years and are an exemplary detective.” Wheeler’s words came out as more of an insult than a compliment.
Mackenzie clamped her lips together to keep from offering a smart reply. He was going to be a tough nut to crack, but they would crack him. “Is there somewhere we can talk in private?”
“Follow me.” He spun and marched through the secure door.
Owen lurched forward and caught the door before it closed. He held it for Mackenzie. She followed the older officer down a narrow and dingy hallway to a small office with walls covered in orangey-brown color sixties wood paneling. Two green vinyl chairs sat in front of the desk, one with a wide crack running the width of the seat.
“Sit,” Wheeler commanded as he moved around the neat but old metal desk.
She took the cracked chair. Owen looked like he wanted to remain standing but gave in. He probably figured if he wanted Wheeler’s cooperation he would need to pick his battles and this wasn’t a hill to die on.
“Now that you know I’m law enforcement and my investigation is connected to Cassie Collins’s murder, I hope you will read me in and keep me in the loop on your investigation.”
“What? You don’t want to take over?”
“Well, sure.” Owen grinned. “But you won’t allow that to happen.”
“See, you know me already.” Wheeler placed his hands flat on the desk. “And you should also know I’m not real good at sharing. Started with my toys when I was a toddler and hasn’t changed.” He let out a booming laugh.
Owen didn’t respond at first. “Cassie Collins was my sister.”
Wheeler’s eyebrow shot up. “My deputy didn’t leak the victim’s name to you after I told him not to, did he? He’s known to do that no matter how hard I try to break him of the habit.”
Mackenzie didn’t know how to answer, so she let Owen take care of it.
“The return of my memory…” Owen shrugged off the end of the sentence, effectively not answering Wheeler’s question.
Mackenzie held her breath, waiting to see if Wheeler would push it further.
The sheriff lifted his hands behind his head and leaned back. “Real sorry your sister lost her life and in such a terrible way.”
Surprising. The sheriff sounded sincere. She was equally surprised he accepted Owen’s answer. Maybe he would circle back and ask again. She didn’t want to get Deputy Dahl into trouble and would do her best to make sure Wheeler didn’t find out what had actually happened.
Owen leaned closer. “I need to figure out who killed her.”
“I get that, but—”
“But nothing.” Owen eyed Wheeler. “Put yourself in my shoes. If you lost a family member this way, I know you wouldn’t sit on the sidelines.”
