Page 46 of Concrete Evidence
“Fantastic. Why?”
He took a generous bite of an enchilada. “Just wading in the waters.”
Or mucking stalls. “What else?”
“You’d make a great interrogator, but you’ve learned your techniques from a politician.”
“And you seldom answer a question straight on.”
“Not true. Some things aren’t cleared for public knowledge. Are we keeping score on who offers the least information?”
“Maybe. What bothered you about Craig?”
He took a drink of water, no doubt to form his reply. “Nothing. How much does he earn?”
“A fair amount.” When Marc frowned, she offered a slight smile. “You have the resources to find out for yourself, but I’ll cooperate. Currently $150,000 a year, plus his living quarters, Mia’s superb cooking, a new work truck every three years, and bonuses when the ranch or the construction business make a profit. See, I offered more than what you asked.”
“And I’m grateful.”
His dry tone told her to change the topic. “Why did you choose a career with the FBI?”
He dipped a chip into guacamole. “‘The price good men pay for indifference to public affairs is to be ruled by evil men.’”
“I’m impressed. You quoted Plato.”
“Beneath this rough exterior, I have a refined side.”
He didn’t have a rough exterior, and she liked his looks. He did have warm brown eyes and an adorable smile, but his ego didn’t need to hear it. “Refined? As in you attended a finishing school?”
“Sam Houston. Majored in law enforcement.”
“Your education grounded the rough edges. Graduated top in your class, I’ll bet.”
He laughed. “Not at all. In fact, a professor told me I didn’t have what it took for a career in law enforcement. Said I missed the intuitive gene.”
“Ouch.”
“He did me a favor. I worked harder, raised my GPA.” He paused long enough to dip a chip in salsa and pop it in his mouth. “Not so sure I’d have made it through Quantico without his voice drilling in my ears.”
“Is the FBI your biggest time stealer, or do you have hobbies?”
“I have a few interests like swimming, watching sports, trail biking. And you?”
“Anything horse related. As a girl, I used to compete in barrel racing, calf roping, cowgirl stuff.”
“Why did you quit?”
“I prefer riding to release stress than for competition. It’s the one thing that relaxes me.”
“Your horse’s name?”
“Darcy. She’s a quarter horse, and I’m in the process of training Zoom.” Longing for home spread through her body. “Love his wild nature. What did you think of the horses at the ranch?”
He dipped his spoon into his black bean soup. “What I know about them could be put in this bowl of beans, but the ones at the ranch are magnificent creatures. I’ve ridden about five times in my life and have no style but to hang on.” He abandoned his spoon in the beans. “The huge house, grounds, horses, and cattle reminded me of a vacation or movie setting. The entire operation is impressive. You, the senator, and Craig Holcombe have every reason to be proud.”
“Thanks. Granddad has worked hard. Craig and I are just tagalongs. Did Old Blue sniff you and wag his tail like a terrier?”
“He did. Not much of a watchdog.”
