Portrait of a Kiss by T.D. McKinney

Author:T.D. McKinney [McKinney, T.D.]
Language: nld
Format: epub
Tags: erotic MM, Romance MM
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

Evelyn set David’s sandwich plate down on the counter and surveyed him over her glasses. “Least you left the wildlife home this time. You be wanting pie afterward?”

“Fred had a conference call he couldn’t miss, but he’d like to make a reservation for next week. He’s really into your coleslaw.” David grinned across the laminate at her. “The cobbler special works for me.”

His charm hadn’t dulled one whit. She smiled and patted at her hair net. “I might have an extra bit of slaw in the back he 135

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could have. Long as he gets it to go.” Then her eyes grayed and she leaned over a bit. “Heard you’re doing more than just digging up a little history for your inn. Son, feelings still run pretty tender over all that. Even fifty years later. The Arnouxs and Collinses still live around here. Still frequent this diner.

Ripping off half-healed bandages isn’t going to help you settle into our little town.”

No surprise rippled through David. He’d known there would be fallout associated with any investigation. “I’m more worried about the truth than settling in. And wouldn’t the families prefer knowing who really killed their children?” He took a sip of his iced tea. “Curt and Jessie deserve justice.”

“They got justice. Brian Terhune had enough decency left to spare the town a long trial and years of him sitting on death row for murdering them. You trying to tell me you got proof otherwise?”

The bell on the door rang and she glanced up, her face going pale then flushing an unbecoming red. “Never you mind right now. I got customers to take care of.” She hurried down the counter without another word.

David stared at the orders on the stainless steel wheel in the order window. His internal bet ran toward a member of either Jessie or Curt’s family having entered. Nothing else would make her cut off their conversation and flee. Evelyn didn’t strike him as the cowardly type.

Now, David could turn around and see who entered—

though experience suggested that might very well cause more problems than ignoring them—or he could eat his flavorful 136

PORTRAIT OF A KISS

fried catfish sandwich. He settled for the middle ground of taking another sip of tea, not wanting to be caught with his mouth full if something happened.

“You Adele Schaeffer’s nephew? I need to have words with you.” Accent as piney-woods deep as David’s Uncle Uriah’s and a whole lot more belligerent flowed over his left shoulder.

David sat the sweating glass on the speckled counter and turned around. “I am.”

Angry eyes smoldered at him from a narrow, craggy face whose handsome looks hadn’t completely faded. Thick hair gone steel-colored but too long for a man well into his sixties hung from beneath a stained “08 The Intimidator” ball cap.

The spare frame was still upright though and the rolled-back cuffs of the pearl snap shirt showed whip-cord muscles.

The eyes, though…a mix of blue, brown, and gray in a deeply rich combination he’d seen on only one other person—

Curtis Arnoux in Brian’s memories.

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