“You shouldn’t work so hard, Rose. I know you like the planting, so why don’t you hire someone else to help Bruce Wayne with the hard labor?”

I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked up at him, shaking my head. “Stop.”

His mouth parted as I walked past him and into the kitchen to examine the damage.

The kitchen door had nine rectangular windows on the top. The one directly over the doorknob had been knocked in, and shards of glass littered the wood floor.

Muffy must have sensed the tension in the room because she headed straight for her dog bed underneath the windows on the back wall, burrowing into it.

I grabbed the broom and dustpan from the pantry, but when I headed for the mess, Joe blocked my path. “You don’t have any shoes on. You’re going to get cut.”

I looked down at my feet, forgetting I’d taken my shoes and socks off.

“I see that you go barefoot even in the winter,” he said, his voice lowering. “I always wondered what it would be like to sleep with you in the winter. Whether you’d put your cold feet on my legs.”

My back stiffened with anger. “Let’s get one thing straight right now.” I glared and pointed my finger at his shocked face. “You are here for a professional matter, Deputy Simmons. You are here to show me mug shots so that I can point out the man I saw in my vision. If, God willing, I find him, you will figure out how to arrest the man. But let me be perfectly clear: You and I are no longer together. You walked out of my house two months ago. That was the end of us, whether you changed your mind or not. So I will not tolerate your continued intrusion into my personal life and matters. Is that clear?”

To my surprise, he grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

I shoved the broom and dustpan at him. “You broke the window, so you can clean it up.”

He took them from me, actually chuckling now.

That was not how I’d expected him to react. With my hands on my hips, I scanned the room. “Where are the mug shots? I’ll look at them while you clean.”

“Shouldn’t the chief deputy sheriff be the one issuing the orders around here?” he teased.

“Shut up and give me the mug shots.”

“I left them in the car. When I saw that the lights were off but your truck was here, I worried something had happened to you.”

That curbed my anger right quick. “Thanks.”

“Just doin’ my job, ma’am.” He rested the broom against the kitchen counter. “I’ll get the photos. Leave the mess for me to clean up while you look.”

“Okay.”

He headed to the living room and out the front door while I grabbed the tea kettle from the cabinet. After I filled it with water and set it on the stove, I pulled out two cups, tea bags, and a jar of honey, setting them on the counter.

“Are you actually making me a cup of tea, Ms. Gardner?” Joe asked when he re-entered the kitchen. “Doesn’t that cross the boundaries you established mere moments ago?”

I lifted my eyebrows. “Do you want a cup of tea or not?”

“Yes, ma’am. I do.”

I scowled. Joe was definitely up to something.

He pulled a folder out from under his arm and set it on the kitchen table. “Just look through these and let me know if any of the guys look familiar.” Then he pulled the chair out, waiting for me to sit.

I narrowed my eyes.

“Ms. Gardner, my mother, bitch or not, taught me to be a gentleman, just like any other well-bred Southern man. We may be treating this as a professional situation, but I will treat you with the same respect I would give any other woman. I open doors. I pull out chairs. Deal with it.”

“Fine,” I grumbled as I sat down and opened the folder.

Grinning, he grabbed the broom and started to sweep up the glass while I started to look through the huge pile of photos. Several minutes later, the tea kettle began to whistle, but he waved me back down when I made a move to get it. “You keep at it. I’ll make the tea. I know how you like it.”

I looked through more sheets of photos of a wide array of men with an even wider array of expressions. Most of them looked like they’d slit your throat without thinking twice, but a fair number of the men had bewildered expressions and terror in their eyes. Had they been arrested for something they didn’t do, like Bruce Wayne? Or were they just sorry to have gotten caught with both hands in the cookie jar?

“You’re concentrating pretty hard,” Joe said as he set my tea next to me.

“It’s a heavy responsibility,” I said, flipping a page. “If I accuse the wrong man, I could ruin his life forever.”

“Rose, these men you’re looking at were already arrested for committing crimes. It’s not like you’d be pulling an innocent man off the street.”

I looked up at him, my stomach cramping. “You said the exact same thing about Bruce Wayne when I worried about him going to jail for a crime he didn’t commit.”

A sadness filled his eyes. “I know this is a burden for you, but all you can do is your best. You’re human just like the rest of us. We make mistakes.”

While his words sounded preachy, I knew his intent was good. I also wondered if he might be talking about himself. “Okay.”

“Just relax and do the best you can. That’s all you can do. I’m going to go drink my tea in the other room so you can be alone.”

I blew out a breath. “Okay.”