Page 47 of When the Smoke Clears

After slipping into a pair of comfortable sweatpants, I head back to the kitchen, where the scent of basil and tomato fills the air. I pull the chicken out of the oven and set the plates on the cool marble countertop.

“Dinner’s ready.”

Luke strolls over, exaggeratedly rubbing his stomach. His shirt rides up, revealing a chiseled set of abs. Saliva begins to collect in my mouth—whether it’s from the aroma of the food or the sight of Luke’s sculpted torso—I’m not sure.

As we settle down at the wooden kitchen table, I look across at Luke. “What are you working on?”

He sighs. “It’s a case from a couple of months ago.”

I pause mid-bite, the fork hovering near my mouth. “What about?”

One of Luke’s eyebrows arches. “You gonna help me solve it?”

“Sure. I watch a lot of true crime documentaries.”

Luke chuckles, his deep laugh filling the room and making my heart flutter. “You and Eden. Why do women like that kind of stuff?”

“Well, if I’ve learned anything, it’s that it’s probably the husband or wife.”

“What makes you say that?” He studies me like I’m a witness who doesn’t realize she’s confessing.

I shrug. “Statistics.”

“This guy didn’t have a wife,” he says, before shoveling a forkful of chicken into his mouth. “This is delicious, by the way.”

I beam at the compliment. “Thank you. So, what’s up with this case?”

Luke leans back in his chair, pushing it away from the table slightly. “A guy was murdered, and it was gruesome. He wasn’t from Wildhaven, but he was found here.”

“Grizzly how?”

“His throat had been slit, and three of his fingers were severed cleanly at the knuckle.” A frown creases his brow. “Doc Stevenson confirmed that his fingers were removed before death. Torture.”

A wave of nausea rolls through my stomach.

He stands abruptly and begins pacing the room, his mind working through the details. I watch him, captivated by his focus and determination.

“But why?” he continues, talking to himself more than me. His voice filled with frustration. “What message does this brutality convey, and who was meant to receive it? Wildhaven isn’t accustomed to violent crimes.”

“What do you know about him?”

“Only that he was a low-level drug dealer from Cedar Hollow.”

I start clearing the dishes, stacking them carefully before carrying them to the sink. “Sounds like a rival dealer or a pissed-off customer.”

Luke follows me, grabbing his own plate and joining me at the sink. “Exactly, but no one is talking.”

“Do you have a suspect?”

He shrugs, his eyes narrowing slightly. “There’s this real dirtbag over in Cedar Hollow. He owns the casino and a few other seedy businesses. I think the guy was working for him, but I can’t confirm it.”

He grabs the dishtowel and begins to dry the dishes as I set them on the towel on the counter. “I have no doubt you’ll figure it out.”

He tilts his head. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because you don’t quit,” I reply, meeting his gaze.

“Not even when I should know better.”