It was plain, serviceable stuff but it was clean. She looked as hot as he felt. The heat of the day had settled over the town. Summer was in full swing before it was technically summer. She didn’t complain about the selection or the quality. He didn’t know her anymore to understand her behavior. He was too grateful to be in the air-conditioned store to bring it up. “Nice job today, Dax.” The store’s owner, Bridget Johnson, handed him a cold bottle of soda. She and her husband had moved from Seattle and bought the store a few years earlier. When they’d revamped the interior and hung a new sign, some folks balked, others welcomed a fresh look at the only store in Tanger. “Thanks, Bridget.” He gestured to Sophie. “This is Sophie Evans. She’s the insurance investigator for the fire at Cindy’s.” Bridget’s black brows went up. “Nice to meet you, Miss Evans.” After the ladies exchanged pleasantries, Bridget pointed to the drawers beneath the display.
