The Departed

make a dead man’s heart beat, or close. She groaned in satisfaction. She took another sip and then put the cup down, rubbing her hands together. The waitress was still lingering there, watching her, her eyes bright with a look Dez recognized all too well.
    Curiosity.
    “You’re the one who found that girl.”
    Dez didn’t respond. She hadn’t even spoken to the police yet and if she said a damn thing to anybody before she gave a statement…no. Sighing, she lowered her gaze to the coffee and reached for the creamer.
    “You don’t want to talk about it.”
    Brilliant observation . She smirked a little and glanced up, cocked a brow.
    “How did you…well, I guess you’re not going to say anything.” Then the waitress sighed. “I just get sick thinking about it. It’s all over town. Not that French Lick is a big town anyway, you know? But everybody is talking about it. Nobody can understand how she got in there, nobody is talking…did she fall?”
    Dez looked away. Fall? No. Ivy hadn’t fallen in there, but she couldn’t exactly point that out. Rubbing her temple, she took a deep breath and then looked at the waitress. “I can’t talk about this. I’m sorry, but…”
    A gust of cool air whipped through the restaurant and, absently, she glanced up. She wasn’t the only one. She also wasn’t the only one staring as Taylor Jones strode inside.
    Dropping her head into her hand, she muttered, “How in the hell?”
    “Taylor…I don’t believe it…”
    The soft, disbelieving tone in the waitress’s voice caught Dez’s attention and she slanted a look at them as Taylor drew near, watched as the woman’s eyes widened, watched as she flushed.
    “Hi, Anita.” He smiled. “How’ve you been?”
    Dez narrowed her eyes, speculating. Okay, now, this wasn’t just some mild familiarity—a guy who’d been in town a day or two. Mind whirling, she thought back to the night before. Her head had been a mess—still was, but not quite so bad. The cop—he’d seemed to know one of the cops.
    Put two and two together…Taylor wasn’t exactly a stranger here. Shit. What were the odds? As a headache settled behind her eyes, she looked up and met his gaze. “Howdy, boss,” she drawled. If he was known around here, that would explain why he’d been completely convinced he could control the universe…or at least the people around here.
    “Can you give us a few minutes, Anita? I need to talk to my agent.” Without looking away from Dez, he slid into the seat across from her and as Anita walked away, he studied her face.
    “I’m not your agent,” she said, keeping her voice low.
    “You didn’t sleep.”
    Dez rolled her eyes. “Did you hear what I said?”
    Taylor’s mouth twisted. Then he reached inside the blazer he wore—over jeans, she’d noticed. Still seriously relaxed for him. What in the hell was up with him? She was about to ask him but then saw the folded-up paper he pushed her way. Scowling, she reached for it, only to drop it like it was made of something toxic the second she’d skimmed the first few lines.
    “Oh, hell , no.” She shoved it back at him.
    “Sign it, damn it.”
    “Shove it up your ass, Jones.”
    He narrowed his eyes and leaned over the table. Somehow he managed to pitch his voice so that she had no problem hearing every last word, but she knew nobody standing three feet away would hear a damn thing. “Sign the fucking contract—I’ll shred it the second this is over, but you’re signing the damn contract. I’m not letting you get hauled in for questioning and this is the best damn way to do it.”
    “And what if I refuse?” Dez folded her arms over the table and smirked at him. She knew it would be easier to just sign the damn thing. If he said he’d shred it, she knew he would. Taylor wouldn’t go back on his word. It wasn’t his way.
    But she also couldn’t see why in the hell this mattered so much to him, either. She honestly couldn’t. Seeing the fury light up his gaze once more, she groaned and covered her face with her hands, pressing her fingertips to her eyes. “Why, Taylor? You want me to sign that fucking thing, then you give me a straight answer. Straight, no bullshit.”
    She heard the harsh, heavy sound of his exhalation and then a faint rustling sound. “Come on. I want to show you something.”
    She glanced up, saw the money he’d thrown on the table. Frowning, she said, “I haven’t had breakfast.”
    “I’ll bring you back. It’s