Page 13 of Sleigh My Heart

His right brow climbed his forehead.

“Okay, trust me.” She didn’t know if that was any better. He used to trust her.

“Trust is one thing, but I need that sleigh. So just think of me as your new partner until it’s done.”

“I could charge you with interfering in an investigation.” She stared at the fat flakes landing on his dark waves.

He smirked. “Would you really, Officer?”

Oh, she would, but looking at him, she didn’t think it would stop him. “Fine. You can question the repair person with me, but I’m not promising anything else.”

His lip crept up in a knowing smile. Yeah, he won this round, but the war wasn’t over. And when it came to Nick, this would be a war of wills.

Nick held the door for her. Chivalrous asshole.

Leaving as much room between them as possible, she slipped by him. It was still too close. Her knees did a little shimmy as she passed him.

Damn Nick scent. Smell was a strong memory trigger, and his was an industrial-size one for her.

Strong fingers gripped her elbow. His eyes silently questioning.

“Be careful. There’s ice.” Yeah, she said it to save face, but Nick’s stoic nod made it clear he didn’t believe her.

The small office housed a counter and two chairs in a waiting area. A morning talk show host interviewed some starlet about her newest movie on the television hanging from the wall. Their voices filled the otherwise empty room.

A faint sound of sizzling floated through a door to the shop. Michelle peered through the wire grate window. White flashes outlined the employee clad in gray overalls. Sparks arced out around him, his body obscuring his welding.

Averting her eyes, Michelle cranked the door and with a raised voice said. “Excuse me, are you Billie Dee?”

Nothing. The guy continued his welding.

“Hey, are you Billie Dee?” She raised her voice.

No change. Maybe he had earbuds in? Michelle took one step in and a loud buzz slapped her to full alert. “What the…” She threw a look over her shoulder. Nick—with his hand on a switch. The sign on the wall below it said, “Press for service”.

The flashing stopped, and the welder flipped up his helmet, pulled an earbud from his ear, then turned. Not a guy, but a woman. “Can I help you?”

“Are you Billie Dee?”

The woman dropped her dark eyes to Michelle’s badge, then back to her face. She pulled off her leather gloves and extended her hand. “Yes, Wilhelmina Denise Jackson, at your service.”

Michelle stepped up and shook the woman’s hand. She had short nails with chipped blue polish and a wide smile. Michelle liked the woman instantly.

Nick, too, shook her hand, then stepped back next to Michelle. “Did you do the repairs on the Ashwood mall’s sleigh?”

Heat climbed Michelle’s neck. This was her case. She should be the one asking the questions. She shot him a glare, but he only shrugged.

“Yes, it had a loose runner. It was a simple fix. Is there an issue?”

Michelle stepped in front of Nick, establishing her authority. “Did you deliver the sleigh when it was finished?”

“No. The mall employee picked it up. Why?” Billie Dee set her gear down, grabbed an insulated water bottle from the workbench, and downed several mouthfuls.

“Who?” Nick asked.

Billie Dee shrugged.

“Did they pay for it with a card?” Michelle jotted notes in her work tablet.