"Absolutely," she said, smiling a little. "I've never been a spy before."

"New experiences can be good," I agreed. "From what I hear, spies make a pretty good living."

Beside me, Collin cleared his throat. I turned around, remembering our aborted conversation. My blood began to boil again, and I opened my mouth to pick up where I'd left off.

But before I could say a word, Collin set his Taser gun down on the counter and folded his arms over his chest. His amber eyes were flashing with something that looked like irritation. I took a step back, not sure what had prompted the reaction.

"So JJ," he said, eyeing me with a guarded expression. "What do you say we go grab a cup of coffee?"

CHAPTER SEVEN.

"Coffee?" I asked, not sure I'd heard him right. "Now?"

"No," he said, picking up his Taser gun again, along with the toy truck. "After work."

"Oh. I guess that would be okay."

My mind was reeling, trying to figure out what was going on. Was he plotting to poison me or did he just really like coffee?

"You're off at three with the rest of the landfill crew, so how about we meet at Starbucks around four?" he suggested.

I folded my arms over my chest and looked at him. "This is Oregon. There's a Starbucks every two blocks. You're going to have to be more specific than that."

Collin sighed. "How about tea?"

"How about the Starbucks at the corner of Ninth and Wilson. They have tea. And make it five, I have to go home and feed my cat."

"Very well," Collin said, giving me a curt nod. "I'll see you then."

Then he turned on his heel and walked back toward the toy section.

Beside me, Ernie squealed. Burt and I both took two steps back and winced.

"He's very smitten with you!" she gushed, keeping her voice low as we watched Collin retreat.

"Smitten?" I asked, practically choking with incredulity. "That wasn't smitten. If that had been a real gun, I think he might've shot me."

"That's just Collin," Ernie said, waving a hand dismissively. "He's a little different. But obviously he wants to take you out for coffee."

"He wants to meet me for coffee," I corrected, checking to make sure Collin was out of earshot. "I don't think that's the same thing."

"Oh, posh. That little Green Barbie was in here just before you were, flouncing around in her teeny skirt, and Collin barely even noticed her. He was much more taken with you."

"Just because he's not fond of bimbos doesn't mean he's got a thing for me. Seriously. Has he ever poisoned anyone? It'd be easy to slip arsenic into an espresso."

"JJ, you're being silly," she said. "The boy is just a little shy."

"That's definitely not a boy and he's definitely not shy," I said, glancing to my left where Burt was admiring an electric toothbrush still in its original packaging. "What do you think, Burt? You're a guy."

Burt scraped something that looked like chocolate off the corner of the packaging and eyed it with interest. "Sorry, sweet pea," Burt said, nodding at Ernie. "I've gotta agree with JJ here. The boy seemed downright hostile."

"Exactly," I said, trying not to be disappointed at being agreed with.

"Hogwash," Ernie said. "You've seen how the little boys pull the little girls' pigtails on the playground when they like them."

"I don't think he's pulling my pigtails, Ernie. I think he might actually light my hair on fire if I gave him the opportunity."

"Nonsense," she said, reaching over to take the toothbrush from Burt as she moved behind the cash register to ring up the purchase. Burt looked confused.

"You mark my words," Ernie said, punching buttons on her register. "That boy will surprise you."

ERNIE WAS RIGHT about one thing. Collin certainly did surprise me.

Even though I suspected he was more likely to pat me down for weapons than admire the contents of my sweater, I still wanted to look nice for our coffee chat. I showered hastily after work, tugging on my favorite pink cashmere cardigan over a matching pink silk camisole and pairing it with a well-fitting pair of jeans. I felt a flutter of something as I dropped some kibble into Blue Cat's dish and headed toward the door.

Blue Cat stared after me irritably, clearly expecting seared ahi and a scratch behind the ears.

"Sorry, buddy." I grabbed my keys off the rack by the door. "I've got pork roast in the slow cooker, but you're on a diet. Maybe one tiny piece later, if you're really, really good."

He flopped down on his side and gave me a look intended to convey that he was capable of chewing my eyelids off while I slept.

I had to hustle to make it to coffee with Collin. I had deliberately chosen the Starbucks just a few blocks from my house so I could walk there, ensuring I arrived rosy-cheeked and softly windblown. The plan might've worked if it hadn't been raining sideways. As it was, I arrived soggy and frizzed and a good five minutes late.

I looked around for Collin, pushing my way through the door as I spotted him at a corner table with a large white mug and a somber expression. He was reading National Geographic.

He glanced up as I approached, disgruntled as always. I wasn't sure if it was my tardiness or the general sight of me, but I was getting rather used to the expression.

Collin stood up and gestured toward an empty chair. "Please, have a seat."

I nodded toward the counter. "I'm going to grab some coffee first. You want anything?"

"No, thank you. I'm quite fine. I would have ordered for you, but I wasn't certain what you fancied."

"I fancy a skinny vanilla latte with extra foam, a dash of cinnamon, and one packet of Splenda," I told him. "For future reference."

"Certainly."

By the time I returned to the table, Collin was pulling his teabag out of the mug. He set it gently in his teaspoon, coiling the string around it a few times before pulling it tightly to squeeze all the liquid out. He set the tidy bundle on his saucer, reached for his biscotti, and dipped it in his mug. He looked up at me.

I took a swallow of coffee and tried to think of a good icebreaker.

"So you're a spy," he said.

I choked on my coffee.

When women in movies do this, they somehow manage to daintily sputter a light, ladylike mist while everyone has a good chuckle. That wasn't the case for me. Collin was still wiping espresso off his glasses when the man from our neighboring table stood, apparently considering the Heimlich.

I waved him away, and finished coughing.

Then I stared at Collin. "What the hell? A spy? Are you nuts?" I blotted my cashmere with a napkin and waited for a good explanation.

Collin looked at me. "I'm not the one who just treated everyone to a Starbucks shower."

"And why might I have done that, Collin? It couldn't possibly have anything to do with the fact that you're hurling bizarre accusations at me out of nowhere."

Collin picked up his mug. "I'm simply looking at the facts. Fact number one: you showed up at the Department of Solid Waste rather abruptly, with no recent job experience in that field."

"So?"

"Fact number two: immediately thereafter, I began receiving an unprecedented level of scrutiny from the Department of Environmental Quality."

I picked up what remained of my coffee and took a sip, refraining from rolling my eyes. "I'm sorry to hear that, but again, not my fault. I thought we already established that my significant other was behind the calls to DEQ. I talked to him about it, and he agreed to knock it off."

"I'm sure you did," he said. "Of course, I took the liberty of calling him myself the same day he left me all those messages regarding your health and the unsuitability of your work environment."

"You did?"

"Yes."

"What did he say?"

"For one thing, he denied there was any romantic relationship between the two of you."

"Of course he did," I snarled, feeling a fresh wave of anger. "He's done that for most of the time we've dated."

"And why would he do that?"

"Well, he either believed the county still had a policy against co-workers dating, or he was embarrassed to be dating me for some reason," I said. "Take your pick."

Collin frowned, apparently not expecting to hear so much about my personal life. "Look, I don't care who you have or haven't dated," he said, picking up his tea. "That's beside the point. The only reason I thought it prudent to mention the issue is that, clearly, some elements of your story are a bit dodgy."

"What else?" I challenged. "How about if you cut out all the bullshit implications and just spell it out for me?"

"Very well," Collin said, straightening a little in his chair. "I've noticed some recent discrepancies in the records I receive from our sale of carbon credits from our landfill gas project, as well as some oddities in my readings. The numbers aren't adding up not the dollar figures or the quantity of carbon credits sold."

"What the hell does that have to do with me?"

Collin sighed with exaggerated patience. "Hypothetically speaking, if there were something dodgy going on with our program, a third-party reviewer would be sent out to survey our site. Undercover, most likely, if they thought we might be trying to diddle them somehow."

"Diddle?"

"Con. Rip them off."

"I see. So you think I'm that third-party reviewer," I said dryly, not sure if he really understood how absurd that was. "A spy."

"It's certainly a possibility."

"Sure. And I might wake up tomorrow and decide to be a polar bear."

Collin sighed again. "That's not the only evidence I used to draw my hypothesis." He took another sip of tea. "In the past, the county's human resources department has given me a rather detailed battery of paperwork on all new hires. Very thorough information about backgrounds, work history, allergies, necessary details that would allow me to formulate a comprehensive plan for hazardous materials training, appropriate health protocols, restrictions, that sort of thing."

"And?"

"And the practice halted quite recently. All of a sudden, I'm receiving virtually no new hire information. That means I've been given very little of your background or history. Now why do you think that would be?"

"I have no idea why HR does half the things it does," I said, thoroughly exasperated now. "They repositioned me from a desk job in marketing and public relations to a position involving heavy equipment and garbage. Does that really strike you as the well-plotted actions of a department with a solid game plan?"

"And that's the other thing," Collin said, sipping from his mug again. "I reviewed the county's employee roster from last quarter. You weren't listed as part of marketing and public relations."

I set my mug down hard, sloshing most of the remaining coffee over the edge. "Is this what you've been so pissy about?"

"Pissy?" he asked, looking offended.

"Yes, pissy. Ever since I started last week, you've been pissy."

"I wouldn't say-"

"Listen, smart guy. I functioned as a part of the marketing and public relations team for the last five years, but one of the conditions the county made when my position was created was that I would devote sixty percent of my time to the needs of the district attorney's office."

"I don't see what this-"

"The bulk of my salary came through the DA's office. A technicality, but it meant that on paper at least, I actually belonged to the DA."

Collin was silent for a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Well, even so-"

"And furthermore," I told him, really heating up now, "as you well know, the county employee roster lists people by their first names, not last. And let me just go out on a limb here and guess that you were searching for a JJ. Or for some name that started with a J?"

Collin stared at me, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he gripped his mug.

"JJ isn't short for anything," I informed him. "It's a nickname my sister gave me when she was two and couldn't say my real name."

"Which is what?"

"Marjorie June. It's what my mom would yell every time I got in trouble which was often so my sister started calling me 'Jori Ju' and everyone in the family thought it was cute, so eventually it just got shortened to JJ. It's what everyone's called me since I was four."

"Marjorie?" he said, looking puzzled.

"Yes, Marjorie. It's a family name. But don't even think of calling me that. Ever."

"Marjorie," he repeated, staring down into his cup.