Читать книгу Avalanche Of Trouble онлайн | страница 20

“You mean the blue hair,” she said.

“The blue hair. The attitude.”

“You think I have an attitude?” Her voice rose and she leaned toward him.

Gage bit back a groan. Yes, she had an attitude—a “don’t mess with me” vibe that shone through the grief and fatigue. “I didn’t say it was a bad attitude,” he said. “And hey, maybe I’m full of it. Ignore everything I said.”

“You’re not the kind of man a woman ignores, Deputy.”

The words jolted him. Was she flirting with him? But when he glanced her way, she was facing forward again, what he could see of her expression betraying nothing.

Mo’s Pub was the only place open this late, so Gage drove there. When they walked in the waitress showed them to a booth. “Any word on that lost little girl?” she asked as she distributed menus.

“Not yet,” Gage said.

“Tony was up there all afternoon with the search and rescue crew, and we’re all praying y’all find her soon. Poor little baby. She must be scared to death up there on her own.”

“This is Casey’s aunt, Maya Renfro,” Gage said. “This is Sasha Simpson.”

“You poor thing.” Sasha patted Maya’s shoulder. “You must be worried sick. They’re gonna find her, I’m sure of it. They won’t stop looking until they do.”

“Thanks.” Maya looked a little dazed as Sasha hurried away to wait on another table. “She sounded really worried—and she doesn’t even know me or Casey.”

“She has two little girls of her own,” Gage said. “And that’s the way people are around here. Everybody knows everybody and while it’s not exactly family, it’s something like it.”

“I can see how that would be appealing,” she said. “But a little claustrophobic at times, too. Sometimes I like not knowing anything about my neighbors.”

Sasha returned and took their orders. Maya ordered a salad, which he expected she wouldn’t eat, but she was drinking her soft drink, so that was something. “So what do you do in Denver besides teach English?” he asked.

“I do poetry slams.”

Again, not what he would have expected. “That’s where people get up and perform poetry they’ve written, right?”