Sam’s alarm went off way too early the next morning and she groaned at the intrusion. She’d set it because she had far too many things on today’s calendar to indulge in her usual leisurely wake-up routine. Much as she felt tempted to hit the snooze button, she didn’t. She sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed a little circulation into her face, thinking she was getting too old for this.

  Why am I chasing around, she wondered, trying to start a business, taking jobs that send me running all over the county, and then nosing around to check out the death of a man I didn’t know much about less than a week ago?

  Resisting the energy-drain of so much analysis, she dragged herself to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face, which served only to give her a wet face—no magical energizer. Patting dry, she brushed her teeth, gargled the strongest mouthwash in the house, and brushed her hair until it flew straight up in electric spikes. She still didn’t feel very awake.

  In the kitchen she started the coffee maker, brewing the stuff with an extra scoop of dark roast. The birthday cupcakes sat on the kitchen table, covered with a plastic shell. She rummaged for her invoice book and wrote out a bill for the customer, taping it to the plastic cover so she wouldn’t forget it. The short-notice wedding cake also had to go out today.

  While the coffee dripped she went back to her room and searched for her black slacks and white blouse, her quasi-uniform when she made deliveries to places like Casa de Tranquilidad. She laid the clothes out on the bed. They needed to stay clean until she was ready to drive to Santa Fe this afternoon.

  For the morning, her duties were to get back to Bertha Martinez’s place and do some yard trimming. For that, she could get by with jeans and an old shirt. She donned them quickly and returned to the kitchen where she poured a large mug of the strong black brew. Sitting at her dresser, she was rummaging through a drawer in search of sunscreen when she heard a vehicle pull into the driveway.

  Beau’s cruiser stopped with a slight squeal of brakes.

  Oh god, she was in no shape to be seen by a man that she didn’t want to scare away. She set the sunscreen aside and gave her face a couple of swipes of blusher and a dash of lipstick. Rubbing her lips together, she headed for the back door and met him in the driveway.

  “Hey there,” he said. “I was afraid I might be too early. I was only going tap lightly on the door in case you were still asleep.”

  Sam worked up a bright smile, hoping that she looked more alert than she felt.

  “Coffee?”

  He glanced at his watch. “Sure. A quick one. I’m on duty in ten minutes.”

  Before they’d quite reached the back door, he grabbed her hand and turned her around. His kiss went right to her center. She was glad she’d brushed her teeth first thing.

  “Um . . . nice,” he said.

  Her mood shot up at least twelve points. They indulged in another kiss.

  They stepped into the service porch and gave themselves over to a full-fledged full-body hug and what was about to become a real make-out session before she remembered that they both had places to be, very soon. She pushed back reluctantly and slid her hands over his muscular shoulders.

  Beau straightened quickly, looking over Sam’s head.

  “Mom?”

  Chapter 19