I Want Candy Read Free Page B

“Sorry. I don’t mean to be obnoxious about it. But you did ask.”
    “Yep. I asked.” Turner turned his attention back to the stack of paperwork Bitsy had just handed him. The ongoing North Carolina Rural Drug Task Force investigation of Bobby Ray Spivey was starting to heat up. An undercover DEA agent had infiltrated yet another methamphetamine manufacturing and distribution ring headquartered in Cataloochee County, this time in Preston Valley, and the next month or so would mean lots of man-hours for Turner’s department. Or, more accurately, for Turner . Budget cuts had left him no choice but to hold off on the two new hires for the fiscal year, and with Pauline ready to go on maternity leave, he knew he’d better start getting used to a life of extra hours and not enough sleep.
    But to Turner, this wasn’t just another case. It was probably his last shot at linking Spivey to Junie’s death, and he’d have to do it before the meth investigation came to a close.
    “So. Anything good going on?”
    Turner looked up at J.J. and smiled. This was their daily dance, and by now, they were damn good at it. He and J.J. Decourcy had been best friends since kindergarten. After high school, Jay had gone away to UNC to study history and political science, then he’d run off to travel the world and eventually work for a news service in New York City. Since he was a country boy at heart, that hadn’t lasted long, and J.J. came back to work for Garland Newberry at the Bugle, where he’d been ever since.
    Turner, on the other hand, had done two years with the Marine Corps, then went to Western Carolina on the G.I Bill, majoring in criminal investigation sciences. He’d married Junie right after graduation and joined the department as a deputy. Within three years, he was the boss. And not long after, Junie was dead. In a flash, his beautiful wife—the only woman he’d ever loved with all his heart and soul—was gone from the world.
    Turner let his gaze wander to the small silver frame he kept on his desk. Junie looked back at him with those dark, almond-shaped eyes and her trademark smile. He never got used to it, really, the idea that a spirit so full of joy could exist one instant and vanish the next. But he knew she was gone. He was called to the scene of the accident. He saw his sweet, funny, passionate wife slumped over the wheel, lifeless. Dead.
    Turner kept living. J.J. liked to point out that it was more like existing —just a cycle of breathing, eating, sleeping, and working—but somehow, he’d managed to keep going.
    He checked out his friend now, sitting where he sat nearly every weekday morning, primed for the mental tug-of-war in which Turner would play coy and J.J. would try to get him to reveal more than he intended. After years of this, they considered themselves at a tie. They both knew the daily standoffs were more about friendship than work, anyway.
    “Pretty quiet,” Turner answered him. He shoved the task force reports into a file—that was one topic that would never come up with his best buddy during one of these chats. Although J.J. had been privy to Turner’s suspicions that Spivey was involved in Junie’s death, his friend would hear about the meth ring only about an hour before everyone else did—when the task force called a press conference to announce an arrest. Anything else would compromise the investigation and put an undercover agent’s life at risk. “But something kind of interesting went down early this morning,” Turner added, nodding slowly.
    “Oh, yeah?”
    “Oh, yeah. I pulled some chick over for not having her headlights on, and she tried to flash me to get out of the ticket.”
    J.J. roared with laughter. “Damn, man. You have the best job in the world! You let her go with a warning, no doubt.”
    Turner felt himself grin at the memory of that spectacular sight—lots of creamy, milky, ivory-white cleavage, messed-up blond curls past her shoulders, and a pair of the