Divine Evil by Nora Roberts Page A

glitter. “Pretty.” There was carving on it that she recognized as letters, but couldn't read.
Carly
    “Annie.” She gave a satisfied nod. “A-N-N-I-E. Annie. Finders keepers, losers weepers. She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah.” Delighted with her treasure, she slipped it over her own thick wrist.
    “Nobody saw her, Sheriff.” Bud Hewitt set Carly Jamison's picture on Cam's desk. “I showed it all around town. If she came through here, she was invisible.”
    “Okay, Bud.”
    “Broke up a fight in the park.”
    “Oh?” Because he knew it was required, Cam looked up from his paperwork.
    “Chip Lewis and Ken Barlow trading punches over some girl. Sent them both home with a bug in their ears.”
    “Good work.”
    “Got cornered by the mayor's wife.” Cam lifted a brow.
    “Complaining about those kids skateboarding down Main again. And the Knight boy gunning his motorcycle. And-”
    “I get the picture, Bud.”
    “She told me Clare Kimball was back. Got a garage full of junk and no dishes in the cupboards.” “Min's been busy.”
    “We read all about her in
People
magazine. Clare, I mean. She's famous.”
    “That so?” Amused, Cam shuffled papers.
    “Oh, yeah. She's an artist or something. Makes statues. I saw a picture of one. Must'a been ten feet high.” His pleasant face screwed up in thought. “Couldn't make out what it was. I dated her once, you know.”
    “No, I didn't.”
    “Yes, sir, took her to the movies and everything. That was the year after her dad died. Damn shame about all that.” He used his sleeve to wipe a smudge from the glass of the gun cabinet. “My mom was friends with her mom. Fact is, they were out together the night he did it. Anyway, I thought I might go by the Kimball place sometime. See how Clare's doing.”
    Before Cam could comment, the phone rang. “Sheriff's office.” He listened for a moment to the rapid, high-pitched voice. “Is anyone hurt? Okay, I'll be right there.” He hung up and pushed away from the desk. “CecilFogarty ran his car into the oak tree in Mrs. Negley's front yard.”
    “Want me to take it?”
    “No, I'll handle it.” Mrs. Negley's was just around the corner from Clare's, he thought as he went out. It would be downright unneighborly not to drop by.
    Clare was just pulling into the drive when Cam cruised up. He took his time, watching her as she fumbled for the lever to pop the trunk. Hands tucked in his pockets, he strolled up behind her as she tugged at the bags and boxes heaped in the back of the car.
    “Want some help?”
    Startled, she rapped her head on the hatchback and swore as she rubbed the hurt. “Jesus, is it part of your job description to sneak around?”
    “Yeah.” He hefted out a box. “What's all this?”
    “Things. I realized you need more than a sleeping bag and a bar of soap to survive.” She dropped two bags on top of the box he held and gathered up the rest herself.
    “You left your keys in the car.”
    “I'll get them later.”
    “Get them now.”
    On a long-suffering sigh, Clare walked around the car, juggling bags as she leaned inside to pull the keys out of the ignition. She went in through the open garage and left him to follow.
    Cam took a look at the tools, several hundred dollars′ worth, he estimated. The steel tanks, the stone and metal and lumber. “If you're going to keep all this stuff in here, you'd better start closing the garage door.”
    “Taking our job seriously, aren't we?” She stepped through the laundry room into the kitchen.
    “That's right.” He glanced at the counter loaded with covered dishes. “You want to make room for this?”
    “Sorry.” She pushed plates and bowls together. “The ladies came by this afternoon.” She pried a plastic lid from a tub, took a sniff. “Want a brownie?”
    “Yeah. Got any coffee to go with it?”
    “No, but there's beer and Pepsi in the fridge. And somewhere in all of this is a coffeepot.” She began to dig in the box, unraveling items