Panic Button by Kylie Logan Read Free Book Online Page B

the workroom of the Button Box and sat me down,
     I didn’t even realize anyone had come to stand next to me.
    When I looked up and saw it was Nev, I couldn’t have been more relieved. I resisted
     the urge to jump up and throw myself into his arms.
    Partly because that uniformed cop was still there, and I didn’t need to start a host
     of rumors running rampant through the department.
    Mostly because we weren’t at the throw-myself-into-his-arms stage of what we had of
     a relationship.
    Nev was the consummate professional, and something of a Type A personality. I did
     not hold this against him. When it came to my work, I was a Type A, too.
    “I thought you were working afternoons.” While that cop standing in the doorway between
     the workroom and the shop made a phone call, I took the chance and touched a hand
     to Nev’s. His smile was warm when he briefly closed his fingers over mine.
    “I am,” he said. “But when the desk sergeant heard where the body was found, she remembered
     that I’d worked the case here when that actress was murdered, and she gave me a call.”
    “I’m glad.” The cop was done with his call, and Idropped my hand into my lap and Nev backed away. I wished he didn’t have to. There
     was something about his calm, reassuring presence that helped thaw the ice in my veins.
     “She was…” I couldn’t see the courtyard from there, even if my back door was open,
     but I looked that way, anyway, closing my eyes against the memory of Angela’s swollen
     face. “She was a customer of mine,” I told Nev. “The one with the…” My words choked
     against the painful ball of emotion in my throat. “She’s the one who brought me the
     charm string.”
    “The lady you told me about the other night.” Nev pulled another stool up to my worktable
     and perched on the edge of it. He was a tad over six feet tall, and even seated on
     the tool, his feet touched the floor. Not mine. Mine dangled. “I remember what you
     said when we had that drink the other night. You said Ms. Morningside, she was the
     one who believed in—”
    “Curses. Yeah.” It didn’t seem so funny now. In fact, just thinking about Angela’s
     fear and the warnings she’d seen in the crows and the howling dog made a shiver skitter
     up my back. I wrapped my arms around myself and the gold cardigan I’d worn that day
     with blue jeans. “Angela came in last night to pick up the charm string. There was
     supposed to be a tea today at the Ardent Lake Historical Society. Oh, really, someone
     needs to call and tell them,” I added and I suppose, in some way, thinking about the
     tea satisfied the need in me to concentrate on the mundane, even in the face of murder.
     “They’re going to make tea and bake cookies and before they do all that—”
    “Not to worry.” Without even checking to see if theother cop was watching, Nev patted my hand. “We’ll take care of the phone calls.”
    The reassurance satisfied my need for structure, even in a situation that was all
     about chaos. “Angela…” I sniffled. “She was so excited about presenting them the charm
     string, and so happy to be getting it out of her life.”
    I hadn’t even realized I’d started to cry until Nev handed me a white cotton handkerchief.
     I dabbed it to my eyes. “She showed up here a little after six last night,” I told
     him because I knew he was bound to ask sooner or later and I figured we might as well
     get it over with just in case I fell to pieces. “She picked up the charm string and
     left. She went…” I thought back to all I remembered about the night before. “When
     she left the store, she turned to her right, in the direction of the alleyway. Stan
     and I left just a couple minutes later, and we went to our left. If we’d gone the
     other way…”
    There was no way I wanted to think about how things might have been different. If
     I did, I’d only feel worse.
    Nev understood. “It’s not your fault,” he