Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“We’re wondering if the good ole senator might’ve had something to do with that college student dying the other night.” Ace stared into the fire for a moment, watching a log shift and settle. If Mercer had a history of women disappearing around him—even if it was just rumor—he wanted to know.
“I will say,” Ophelia continued, resting one hand on the open file, “that the domestic violence assertions, as well as the missing girlfriend, were all women close to him. People he dated for a while.”
Brock brushed her hair away from her angled face. “Go on.”
“Attacking a stranger would deviate from his usual pattern,” she said. “If there even is a pattern. Keep in mind, these are just allegations, and the authorities arrested somebody for the ex-girlfriend’s disappearance.”
Christian rolled his neck. “They did?”
“Yeah,” Ophelia said quietly, still reading the file. “It looks like they arrested her cousin, who ended up taking a plea. There was bad blood between them. Some family dispute.”
“That does sound reasonable,” Damian said.
The door opened again, letting in a streak of cold air and the faint scent of snowmelt from the mountains. Ace glanced up automatically.
May stood just inside the doorway, scanning the room. When she spotted the four Ospreys clustered at their table, she faltered for half a second.
Ace crooked his finger toward her.
She lowered her chin slightly, but she walked over anyway. “Yes?” she asked when she reached them.
He wanted to pull her down onto his lap, feel her settle there like she belonged, but they weren’t quite there yet. Instead, he stood. “My dinner date is here.”
Brock grinned along with Ophelia. Damian closed the file. Christian only watched.
“See you guys later,” Ace added, already taking her hand. He led her toward the bar, the scrape of chairs and the murmur of conversation filling in behind them.
“I’m your date?” she asked, smiling up at him.
He looked down at her pretty face. “I guess I should have asked properly. Would you like to have dinner with me?”
“Sure.”
They reached the bar, where Amka was shaking ice in a metal tin, lips pursed in concentration.
“When are you going to Fairbanks?” Ace asked May quietly.
“I don’t know. Probably Thursday is the earliest I can manage. We would have to fly in, find dresses, and come back that night. I already talked to Dirk Fredrickson and he said he would fly us.”
Dirk was solid. He flew mail and passengers between small towns when weather allowed, his old plane as familiar in the sky as the mountains themselves.
“What kind of dress do you want?” Ace asked. She’d be gorgeous in anything.
“I don’t know.” May turned slightly. “Amka, what color do you want us to wear?”
Amka paused mid-shake, considering. “How about blue? You and Olly have blue eyes, and Daisy’s are green. You all should be able to wear any shade of blue.”
“Blue would be nice,” May said.
“Okay, blue,” Amka decided.
May’s hand felt good in his. Right. “Long or short?” she asked.
“I don’t care,” Amka said easily. “Find dresses you like and can move in.”
May glanced up at Ace. “Are you wearing a tux?”
“It sounds like it.” He couldn’t remember the last time he wore one. Probably some formal event years ago that felt like it belonged to another lifetime.
“Or,” May added thoughtfully, “you all could wear your uniforms.”
They had all served honorably in the Navy, each in a different specialty. The idea carried weight.
“We could,” Ace said slowly, “but I think Christian would rather do tuxes.”
“Fine by me,” Amka called cheerfully, pouring into two martini glasses and sliding them toward Daisy.
“For now,” Ace said, tightening his hold on May’s hand, “let’s have a dinner date. Amka, may we sit over there?”
Amka looked at them with open amusement. “You can sit wherever you want.” She reached for a highball glass. “You know we just have bar food, right?”
“I love bar food,” May said.
“Rudolph is one of the best cooks in the state,” Ace shot back.
“That’s right,” Rudolph yelled from the kitchen.
May grinned. “He has good ears.”
“I’ll make you whatever you want, Ace Osprey,” Rudolph called.
“There you go.” Ace guided May toward a quieter table on the other side of the bar, near the windows. “See? Dating me has its perks.”
She laughed softly as they sat, the firelight catching in her hair, and for the first time that day, the noise in his head settled into a rhythm that felt almost steady.
Chapter Twenty-Two
May sat back in her chair, pleasantly full. Rudolph had gone all out with thick steaks seared just right, the edges crisp and the centers tender, alongside sterling potatoes swimming in butter and herbs. The scent of rosemary and garlic still hung in the air around their table, mixing with woodsmoke from the fireplace and the yeasty smell of beer.
She set her napkin on the table and let out a satisfied breath. “I think that was one of the best dinners I’ve had in a while.”