Death on a Deadline

close. In the first place”—I held up my fingers and counted one off with the other hand—“he’s not my old boyfriend. Second, he didn’t know I was there when he dropped by; he was looking for some papers that he’d given Hank.”
    “So he broke in and you didn’t call the police?”
    “He had a key.”
    “Hmm. . .” John shook his head. “Sounds like he had as much right to be there as you did then.”
    “Did I tell you about the pill bottles?”
    “What pill bottles?”
    “The ones in the freezer at the Monitor.”
    A different look came in his eyes. The same expression he’d worn that day I was rattling on about the wallet. “No you didn’t mention that. What about it?”
    Suddenly I knew that the police had found the brown paper bag in the freezer and left it there as unimportant. “You saw them, didn’t you?”
    “What I saw and didn’t see is none of your business, Jenna.” He thumped his desk with his fist. “This case doesn’t involve you.”
    “Really?”
    “Yes, really.”
    “Tell that to my nephew next time you bring him down here to the station.”
    The desk sergeant’s voice blared over the intercom. “Chief Conner, you have a phone call on line 1.”
    John reached for the phone, then looked at me pointedly.
    I plucked a peppermint from a bowl on his desk and popped it into my mouth. “I’m leaving, I’m leaving.”
    As I climbed into my car, I instinctively looked over at the empty passenger seat. Normally on my way to work, Neuro was there, peeking out at me from her carrier. But today, Mr. Persi had balked at going outside and Neuro had actually run the other way when I opened the carrier. I’d given in and left them alone in the house. We’d see if I ended up regretting it. Slowly, I was learning to take chances on commitment.
    I picked up my cell phone and dialed Alex’s office. Even though he hadn’t returned my calls to his cell from yesterday, I still felt I owed him an apology.
    “Tracey? This is Jenna Stafford. Do you think I could talk to Alex for a minute?”
    “Sure, Jenna. I’ll put you right through.”
    Surprise, surprise. Why hadn’t I thought of phoning his office yesterday instead of wasting time calling his cell phone?
    “Alex Campbell here.”
    His voice made my knees go weak, even over the telephone, and even though I was sitting down already. Not fair.
    “Hi, it’s Jenna.”
    “Hey, great to hear from you. What’s going on in your corner of town today?”
    Okay, too smooth. Besides the fact that I’d been calling and calling him? “Did you get my messages?”
    “Messages?”
    “On your cell phone?”
    “Oh. No.”
    “You didn’t get the messages I left you on your voice mail?”
    “No, I haven’t checked my messages.”
    Would it hurt him to expand a little? He didn’t have to listen to a message to see on his caller ID that I’d called. He sounded terribly guilty, but why? “I was calling to apologize for Sunday after church. There’s no excuse for how I acted, but I was trying to figure out some stuff about Hank’s murder. I’m sorry.”
    “I accept your apology. How’s your undercover investigation going?”
    “Nothing so far.”
    “Be careful that you don’t mess things up for the police.”
    “Have you been talking to John?” I gripped the phone tightly.
    “No. . .” His voice was puzzled. “I’d just hate to see you tamper with the evidence or anything.”
    “I’d never do that.” Unless finding the pill bottles from the Monitor and writing down the names on them counted as tampering.
    “I know. Sorry for sounding lawyerly.”
    I laughed. “That’s okay. It’s your job. Well, I wanted to say again, I’m sorry.”
    Silence. Then he cleared his throat. “Thanks for calling.”
    “And if you’d still like to go out, that would be great.” Where had that come from? I was just being a good Christian, calling to apologize to someone I’d offended. That surely didn’t include soliciting a date. Besides, what if he said no?
    “How about supper tomorrow night?”
    Wow. An invitation for a Thursday night date. Unfortunately, I couldn’t go, but Mama always said it’s a sure sign a man likes you if he doesn’t wait for the weekend to ask you out. “I’d love to, but I have to work late tomorrow night. How about Friday?” Unless he asked me out for Thursday night because he had a real date on Friday night? Argh . I had to quit second-guessing myself.
    “Great! Dinner and a movie?”
    “How