Chapter 2

Bryce fixed his gaze on the sexy-as-sin investigator as she sashayed toward him. Markie Pearson reached up and flung her wavy, flaming red hair over her shoulders giving him a better look at her attractive, milky-white skin peppered with freckles.

But it was those bright emerald eyes that did him in. He could stare into those alluring irises forever.

Too bad for him those eyes belonged to a woman who detested him for some reason, and a woman he knew he was better off avoiding for his own sake. Markie was the long-term relationship kind - the marrying kind. The two things his father's four divorces had taught him were that long-term relationships were just a pipe dream to those who believed in them, and that the Hawk men were not meant for the long-haul.

Markie halted a few steps away but kept her judging gaze on him. "So, Bryce, tell me exactly what happened when you got here. Step by step."

Between the thought of the sister's dead body falling on top of him, and the stench of death clinging to his skin, he was two swallows away from hurling. He worked to tamp down the bile in his throat.

"I came here to see if she'd made any progress to clean up her house, as per the court order. I used the back door because ever since I've been coming here the front one's been blocked by garbage. I stepped into the breezeway and knocked on the inside door. When she didn't answer, I knocked again. At that point, the floorboards gave way and I grabbed for the freezer. It tilted and the door flew open. I thought it was going to go through the floor too, but it caught on all the crap next to it and didn't. I still lost my balance and fell to the ground, and..." A tremor raked through his body, and he swallowed hard. "Sister fell on top of me."

The glint in Markie's gaze let him know she enjoyed his uneasiness.

Annoyance raked through him. Why does she feel the need to bask in my discomfort? What did I ever do to her for her to despise me?

Without conscious thought, he shifted his weight from his right foot to his left. Pain shot through his knee. Instinctively he looked down at his leg while working to disguise his grimace - keep the secret about his leg. If not for that stupid prosthetic leg he probably wouldn't have fallen all the way down, but no, when he twisted as he reached for the freezer it unhinged and he fell hard.

"Before today, when was the last time you were here?" Markie asked drawing his attention back to her.

"A month ago."

"And she was okay then?"

He shrugged. "She was alive."

"So, you had no other contact with her from then until today?"

This started to feel like an inquisition. "No."

"Do you know how her body got into the freezer?"

Holy crap. She was questioning him as if he were a suspect.

His pulse raced and his palms perspired. "No, I don't know how she got into the freezer. You think I did this?" he asked in a tone a bit higher pitched than usual.

Markie raised her hand. "I'm just trying to figure out what happened here."

"Well, I don't know. I just found her is all. If I had known she was in the freezer I wouldn't have let her fall on me. Last time I was here she was fine." He crossed his arms over his chest. "In fact, Father Dennis was here, too. He tried to convince her to let the firefighters help her clear out some more stuff. The dumpster they'd filled last month hardly made a dent."

"Hmm, I wonder when the last time Father was here." the exasperating woman stated.

"I can check with him," Officer Blart said from behind Markie, then he stepped up to her side. "I just spoke to one of the neighbors and they didn't recall seeing anybody here lately. A week or so ago they saw her hauling bags out of her car and into the house." Blart shook his head. "Like she needs more bags of junk. Where does she get it all?"

Bryce cleared his throat. "Can I go? I really need to shower."

Markie kept her probing gaze on him for a brief moment before she nodded.

So much for that beautiful emerald gaze of hers. It was more irritating now than anything.

He slid into his city vehicle and headed for home - shirtless. The police had taken it for evidence, but it didn't matter anyway because he would have tossed it into the garbage.

What a shit-ass day.

It wasn't even noon yet and he'd been threatened by Junior Willming with a broken handled trenching spade during his first property maintenance check of the day, and then Sister's dead body fell onto him during his second.

Screw it. He wasn't doing the other two checks today. They could wait. It wasn't like any of these people ever complied with the court orders anyway, and in the end, the judge would just slap them on the wrist and give them another thirty days to clean up the mess. Property maintenance was just a joke, a waste of everybody's time, his in particular. God how he hated this part of his job.

Bryce parked his car in his driveway and headed for the front door of his two-story, brick, fixer-upper. Though his dad thought him nuts for buying this old house, he'd fallen in love with it - the potential - the second he saw it.

He pushed through the heavy, wooden front door and made his way past the plaster buckets, down the wide hall, and into the master bathroom. Under the hot spray of the shower, he scrubbed his chest and arm raw to ensure he'd rid himself of the awful fluids and stench that seeped into his skin when the nun fell on him. As long as he lived, that horrendous stench would forever be embedded into his brain.

After a good length of time, he determined if the germs weren't already scrubbed away they never would be. He stepped out of the shower, dried off, and slid into some work clothes, then he padded off to the kitchen to grab a sandwich before returning to work. No more field work for the day, though. He was going to hide in his office and do some menial paperwork for the rest of his shift which would hopefully take his mind off the awful morning he'd had.

Once back at work, it didn't take but five minutes and Markie Pearson knocked on his office door. He didn't care how beautiful she was, she was the last person he wanted to see right now.

Unfortunately, willing her away didn't work.

She stepped in and took a seat on one of the chairs opposite his desk, leaned back, and crossed her arms over her chest. Her judging, emerald gaze bore into him.

Not planning to let her get the best of him, he leaned back and mimicked her.

The woman's gaze softened as the corners of her mouth twitched upward. It was like she enjoyed his discomfort - the horrific morning he'd had. His jaw clenched.

Markie unfolded her arms and leaned forward. "So, it will be interesting to see the preliminary autopsy report on Sister Ann. Hopefully, we'll hear something tomorrow, though we'll have to wait months for the final."

Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his desk. Why had she told him this? "Okay?"

"Just sayin'. Can you think of anything else you may have seen at Sister's house that looked out of the ordinary?"

"You've seen her house and yard. There's nothing ordinary about it. It's a complete disaster."

Flaming strands of hair shifted slightly as the investigator nodded. "True. The officers are canvassing the neighborhood, and so far, nobody's noticed anyone strange hanging around. Just you."

His heart slammed against his ribcage. Here she went accusing him again. "I was there doing my job."

"Uh, huh."

"What do you mean by uh, huh?"

"Well, you have to admit you have a lot to gain by the death of the nun. As you've said in the past, she's been a thorn in your side. Did you not say that?"

Sweat beaded on his upper lip and temples. He had said that. Probably a hundred times, but it was nothing he didn't say about his other property maintenance issues, too.

"I did say it. But I certainly wouldn't kill her over it. And actually, I have more to gain by her not being dead."

One perfectly manicured eyebrow arched. "How so?"

"Job security." Ha, he had her there.

"Or, that could be a nice cover story for you," she shot back.

They stared at each other for a moment. The hint of softness in her gaze told him she didn't really believe he had anything to do with Sister's death, yet she continued to pressure him. Why she detested him he hadn't a clue. They both worked at City Hall and saw each other daily, but didn't communicate with each other much outside of the property maintenance cases, and even then, he worked more with the officers than with her.

Maybe now was the time to get to the bottom of this.

He inched his chair farther under his desk until his stomach pressed against the laminate surface so he could lean closer to the woman opposite him.

It took less than two seconds for him to realize he shouldn't have done that.

Her scent, that sensual hint of coconut that reminded him of sunscreen, drove him crazy. Winter, spring, summer, or fall, she always wore the same scent, so it couldn't really be sunscreen, right? Though, with that fair skin of hers, she probably did have to be cautious in any sunshine, or perhaps even the LED lights hanging from the ceiling.

Mentally, he shook his head. Dammit, focus.

"Let's just cut to the chase here about the real reason you're busting my balls," he finally stated.

Markie averted her gaze and shifted in her chair.

Hmm, Ms. Tough As Nails doesn't seem to like this topic.

Time to press further. "I take it I've done something in the past you don't like. Would you care to enlighten me...get it out in the open, so we can resolve the issue?"

The anxious redhead brushed her hands over her thighs then lifted her gaze to meet his. "Don't flatter yourself, nothing you do warrants my attention. I'm just doing my job here. Following up on all leads. And you did find the body, so why wouldn't I question you? How about we just stay focused on the issue at hand here."

Good recovery Markie Pearson, good recovery. But there's more to this story - your story - and I intend to find out what it is.