Excerpt of The Case of the Flashing Fashion Queen by Norah Wilson, Heather Doherty

Dylan stood, grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. He never dawdled, but the speed with which he wanted to attack this particular assignment moved me. I knew he was worried about me. I stood, tossed the plastic breakfast trays and utensils in the trash and grabbed my own jacket from the coat tree in the corner.

""Where are you off to?"" Dylan shrugged into his leather jacket.

""The Underhill Motel.""

He hesitated but knew better than to question me, or try to stop me. The Underhill was in a rough part of town, but we both knew I could handle myself.

We locked the office, and headed our respective ways. Whereas I always parked at the far end of the lot, Dylan parked his bike as close to the building as he could get it. He gave me a mock salute before starting the bike and roaring off.

I reminded myself to get him a set of motorcycle chaps for Christmas. Surely that would be an acceptable employer–employee gift? Not too formal. Not too personal. Not too expensive. Not too cheap. And I could just picture them on him –– protecting his legs should he fall on the pavement. Keeping him warm when he drove at night. Perfectly framing his denim–covered....

Gawd, I'd better knit him a sweater. Something loose fitting and long–sleeved.

I just hoped I wouldn't be sending it to him from a federal prison.