Mint Juleps and Justice by Nancy Naigle

think I’m crazy, too, don’t you?” Great. It would be a little hard to be able to do her job advising on the pasture and grazing plan if he thought she was a nut job. This was a huge mistake. She should’ve found someone else.
    “No. That’s not it at all.”
    Brooke peered across the desk, trying to see his notes. “You look all serious over there. Do you think it’s not… not so serious?”
    “Maybe.” It was a statement, not a question. “No children?”
    “No.” She answered without hesitation.
    “Okay.” Mike took note.
    “That didn’t sound right. I love other people’s kids. I just don’t think I’d be a good mom. I never ramble like this, or maybe I do, but not this badly. Even I think I sound like a crazy idiot today. I’m sorry.”
    Mike didn’t even look up. “Any chance of reconciliation?”
    “What?” She nearly shouted it.
    “I had to ask.” He tapped his pen against the pad on his desk and shrugged.
    “Not a chance,” she answered firmly, crossing her legs.
    Mike set down his pen and focused on her. “People can pull some crazy stunts when they feel they’re running out of options. Keith Farrell might fall into that category. Give me a week. If nothing else, we might figure out how he’s getting into your house. Better safe than sorry.”
    “I don’t know, listening to what I just told you, I feel like a neurotic worrywart. I’m probably wasting my time, not to mention yours.” Her mouth pulled into a tight line and she felt the color rise in her cheeks.
    “One week and if there’s nothing there, it’s on me.”
    “I can hardly pass that up, can I?” She shifted in the chair. “I sure hope I’m not blowing this out of proportion.”
    “Brooke, if more people followed their gut feelings there’d be a whole lot fewer problems in this world. Besides that, estrangement homicide is on the rise. It isn’t something to play off lightly.”
    “Homicide, like murder?” She grasped the arms of the chair.
    “Basically. It’s a homicide that is driven by the feeling of a loss of control. You see it in couples, sometimes parent-child relationships too. This could fit that escalation profile.”
    “Are you trying to scare me?” Brooke folded her arms across her chest. She didn’t like being in the damsel-in-distress role. She could take care of herself…usually.
    “It may be nothing at all. I just don’t want you to take this lightly.” He came around the heavy wooden desk and balanced a hip on the edge, crossing one long leg over the other. “One week. We can decide after that. At the very least, you should get some peace of mind.” He leaned back against the desk. “It’s your call.”
    She stared out the window like she was expecting to see an answer pop up on a cue card. “Cardinal, good luck,” she said just above a whisper as she spotted the lucky bird dancing in the flower box just out the window.
    Mike swung his attention toward the window in response.
    Guess I said that in my outdoor voice. “I guess there isn’t much harm in one week,” Brooke said, trying to act nonchalant. “Figuring out how he keeps getting into my house would be a good start. So what do we do?”
    “Aside from a few additional details today, you don’t do a thing. Be yourself, go about your business. I do all the work in this relationship.”
    “That’ll be a switch. I might just enjoy that.”
    He walked to the corner of the office, patted the chair in front of the computer, and gestured for Brooke to take the seat there.
    Mike reached across her and, with a tap, the screen came to life.
    He was giving her instructions and she’d already missed half of them while she was focused on that wedding ring on his finger. It hadn’t been there the other day on the farm visit; she was sure of it.
    “The software will walk you through a series of questions. If you don’t know it, just skip it. It ensures I don’t waste our time finding out what you already know.” He clicked