“How could I not?” He was rummaging inside the basket. “I can’t find them.”
“Let me,” she said, and as she brushed his hands away, their faces were close together. For a moment, Sara almost bent forward, but then she drew back. “I guess it would make your job easier if you and I were sleeping together.”
“Oh, so very, very much easier,” he said. “In fact, I truly believe that our being together would help our country become greater.”
Sara shook her head at him. “It’s not going to happen.”
Mike gave a big sigh. “Can’t blame a man for trying. Okay, so what’s the rest of your plan?”
“To do what you said and collect DNA from the women who come to our shop. But …”
“But what?”
“Erica.”
“And she is?” Mike had his mouth full of tuna salad sandwich.
“The woman Greg got to run the shop. She won’t let me—”
“Don’t you own that place?”
“I’m a partner only on paper. Greg and Erica make the decisions.”
“I’ll make a call and have someone come and break her legs.”
“How about her arms too?” Sara said eagerly.
Mike grinned. “You’re not as innocent as you look, are you?”
“Make up your mind. Do I look like a vestal virgin or am I killer sexy?”
“Both. Is there any more coleslaw?”
“You eat a lot, don’t you?”
“I’ve been crawling all over that farm all day, sometimes barely escaping with my life, and now I’m sitting with a gorgeous dame who says I can’t touch her. Yeah, I’m starving.”
“If you tell me everything you saw today, I’ll tell you about my two bad encounters with Mr. Lang.”
Mike’s face lost the teasing look. “You must tell me everything you know.”
“Not until you tell me at least half of what you know.”
“About what?”
She threw a piece of bread at him—and Mike caught it in his left hand.
“Sara, my lovely, I honestly and truly don’t know what’s going on. I know one of the biggest criminals in American history is or has been living in this pretty little town. Maybe Merlin’s Farm has nothing to do with her, but something has been going on there.” Mike couldn’t tell her that he felt sure Stefan’s wanting the farm connected the Vandlos with either Brewster Lang or the old plantation.
When Mike looked at Sara, he saw she was waiting in quiet anticipation for him to explain. “This morning when I went to see the farm I expected a derelict old ruin, just as I’d been told it was. What I found was a war zone.”
“What do you mean?”
He related, in detail, what he’d seen. He elaborated about the traps and how he believed the marijuana plants had been used as a lure. When he got to the recent graves of the dogs, Sara frowned.
“What about the geese?”
“I didn’t see any.”