After Cameo handed the drawings of both the insignia and the man’s face to Bowie, she crossed her arms. “Interesting, isn’t it? The initials, I mean.”

Bowie glanced up from studying the drawing. “What’s so special about them?”

“The sound they make. A hiss like a snake, which is part of their name. Only in this case it’s more like the rasp of death. Gives me the shivers, detective.” She stared at his handsome face—clean shaven, square jaw, and brown eyes. Warm brown hair just a few shades darker than blond hung to his shoulders. He was a firmly muscled man from what she could see.

“Bowie, please.” The corners of his mouth twitched as he filled out her incident form. “If a woman’s gonna dream about me, the least she can do is call me by me first name.”

Arrogant man. She tugged on the hem of her skirt. “Don’t flatter yourself. It wasn’t that kind of dream.”

He straightened in is chair and spoke on a long sigh. “If ye say so, but yer the one who said ye were naked.”

So, that’s how he wanted to play it. She stood, narrowed her eyes, and planted her palms on his desk. Leaning in, she whispered, “Odd that a man like you with all this intelligence you seem to want to flaunt would hide from a naked woman. Me thinks the bear who rolled off the back of my car had bigger balls than you.”

His face flushed and his lips silently moved as if he were talking to someone else.

Her cell phone rang a few bars of “Thunderstruck” before she slipped it from the outer pocket of her purse and leaned against his desk. “Hello?”

“Ms. Stone, this is James McGuire. After much consideration, we’ve chosen ye as our new attorney, that is if yer still interested in the position. We’ve confirmed all yer references from Cambridge Law School and the firm where ye clerked. And we find your references impeccable. Could we meet at five o’clock this afternoon to go over our offer and have ye sign some forms?”

Her nightmares forgotten, she smiled and resisted jumping up and down with joy. “Yes, sir.” She glanced at the large clock on the wall. “Five would give her plenty of time. I can be there then. Thank you. Thank you very much.”

She spun toward Bowie. “Smile, sourpuss. I got the job. Looks like I’ll be staying on in Matheville as a new attorney at McGuire and Dunn. Just wait until I get the chance to grill you on the witness seat when you try to besmirch my client.”

He got the strangest look on his face and his lower jaw gaped. “Ye dinna mean ta tell me yer a solicitor?” Brown eyes narrowed. “Where did ye attend university?”

Didn’t he believe her? She leaned across his desk until they were eye to eye. “Don’t tell me you’re a blinkered type of man who thinks a woman has no brains. I attended Cambridge Law School. The best in England and I daresay the whole UK. And I’ll have you know I graduated top in my class.”

Mr. Arrogance gave a male grunt. His attitude was pure bollocks as her brother would say.

Her fist curled to give him a punch to his square jaw, but that would be assault. Dammit. It was best she kept her badass side under control, especially if she wanted her job as a lawyer. Sometimes she had to keep her Gemini dual side—peacemaker and badass completely separated.

The door to the police station opened and a group of boisterous people charged in, carrying a cake and other food. An elderly woman with pink hair, dressed in a pale pink winter coat and darker pink scarf and gloves beamed with joy.

“Where’s the birthday boy? My favorite Aquarian full of all the good qualities the sign delivers?”

Bowie stood. “Hang on, Cameo. Yer about to meet the one and only Effie Matheson, married to me father’s uncle and loved by most everyone in the area. Let me warn ye, she’s one of a kind.”

Indeed she was. Cameo’s gaze swept over her as the older woman slipped off her outer things. She had pink pelican baffies on her feet. Was she suffering from dementia?

He held out his arms. “Come kiss me happy birthday, me sweet Effie!”

The woman wearing a pink and yellow tie-dye top over pink pants trotted toward Bowie. What woman wore fuzzy bedroom slippers when she was going to a birthday party? Her arms were upraised and bracelets jangled as she sang “The Age of Aquarius.” Good Lord, she had a tambourine she shook as she danced around Bowie, belting out the tune a shade off key. “Aaaah-quarrr-iiii-uuuusss.” She glanced at Cameo, smiled, and widened her circle to include her, too. A strong whiff of baby talcum powder floated her way as Effie did her sixties dance.

The police detective laughed and shook his head. “Effie, ye are a free spirit. A leftover hippie. A delight. And I love ye, dearly.”

Laying her tambourine on his desk, she hugged and kissed him, leaving fuchsia lipstick marks on his face before she focused on Cameo. “You must be the pretty redhead staying at Matheson Lodge. Fiona told me how nice you are. I’m Effie Matheson, originally from Virginia in the States. I came here for my uncle’s funeral and never left.”

She smiled at an older man and pointed. “I fell in love with a man in a kilt named Earnan and suddenly he was more important to me than anything.”

Cameo couldn’t imagine any man being that important. Especially a gray-haired one whose legs looked like a plucked chicken in a kilt.

“I sold all my property, including my pink Harley and my rosy pink Lexus. I gave things away and had my dearest possessions shipped to Scotland, the land of enchantment. Finding the right person to love takes a bit of magic, don’t you think?” She hip-bumped Cameo.

Was this woman for real?

One of Effie’s cool hands cupped Cameo’s face. “You haven’t been sleeping well. What has you so upset? I’d love to help you if you need a friend to talk to.” She took Cameo’s hands in hers. “I’ve got lots of experience and I know how to keep a secret.”

Maybe, but so did Cameo. She told the people involved in her dreams, but never made them a topic of conversation. Her dreams were personal. She wouldn’t share them with a woman who resembled a pink tea bag—half-brewed.

“My lack of sleep was from agonizing over a job I wanted. Thank goodness I just got word I’ve been given the position.” She had to say it so it seemed more real. “I’ll be a new lawyer at McGuire and Dunn.”

Effie clapped her hands once, her eyes alight with something like mischief. “Blessed be, you’ll be staying on with us in our community. How utterly cool.” Her gaze slipped to Bowie. She wrapped her arm around Cameo’s waist and lowered her voice. “I’ll be able to protect and look after your health. You’ve been assigned to me.”

“Assigned? By whom?” Wait, was she dreaming now? She shoved up her sweater sleeve and pinched herself just to be sure.

Effie fingered Star’s ponytail. “Your hair is the color mine was at your age. I was a hit at Woodstock,” she winked and then waved an open hand. “Until I got home and faced the wrath of Mom and Dad. They were both totally square, but enough about them. One should never speak ill of the dead.” She fingered black beads that weren’t there a minute ago. Were they?

“What were we talking about?” Effie’d forehead wrinkled for a few seconds. “Oh yes, my hair. As I aged, the white grew in like crazy. It was downright pitiful. I was barely sixty-seven at the time. I’d just lost my first husband so I didn’t much care. Then before Paisley and I traveled here for my uncle’s funeral, I decided I’d dye my hair. Couldn’t get an appointment, so I did it myself.” She patted her curly tresses. “Well, wouldn’t you just know the white didn’t take the red dye.” The woman snorted a laugh. “Instead, it turned this pretty shade of pink and I’ve been using it ever since. Pink’s my color, you know.”

Effie eased her forward. “Come. Take a look at Bowie’s birthday cake.” All the men had gathered around it, elbowing each other and laughing. Effie sniggered. “I made it myself. Men enjoy a bit of sexual teasing.” She fingered pink beads that were long and narrow instead of round like the black ones had been. Maybe she simply needed more sleep.

Cameo stared at the flesh-colored icing on the large round cake with two large boobs in the middle, each one topped with a large dollop of whipped cream and a maraschino cherry. When she glanced Bowie’s way to gauge his reaction, she found him in what appeared to be a deep conversation with Creighton Matheson, manager of the lodge where she’d been staying. So many men in this little town towered over everyone. While the detective was well over six feet, Creighton was a couple inches taller and very interested in what Bowie was telling him.

She’d met the commanding giant before. Many called him laird although he ran the lodge where she stayed and was obviously crazy for his wife. It seemed every time she saw him, his lips were locked on “his beloved’s” as he called Paisley. They had twins and she was pregnant again.

“I’ll need to introduce you to my son-in-law since he’s laird around here.”

Cameo stared at Effie. “Paisley is your daughter?” Gee, she seems so normal.

“My granddaughter, but I raised her as mine since before she became a teenager. Hold on, let me get Bowie a slice of cake.” She sliced off a boob and plopped it on a plate, added two tiny sandwiches and potato chips, and carried it over to the birthday guy.

Bowie spared her a smile when he took the plate. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and zoned in once more on his conversation with Creighton.

Effie and her pink-pelican baffies sashayed to the desk holding the cake and other goodies. She glanced up at Kendric. “Darlin’, since you’re leaving us, you get the other boob. You know we’re all going to miss you.” Her hand went to his forearm. “Wait, is your apartment rented yet?”

He took the plate she handed him. “Yes, me luv, ′tis.”

“Why would ye be inquiring about an apartment, I’d like ta kin? Dinna think ye’ll be leaving me.” Earnan pierced her with a stern look.

“Never in a million years, Stud Muffin. Cameo, here, just got a job and needs a place to live. You know, you do have your old place just sitting empty.”

Earnan stepped toward Cameo. “Congratulations and where did ye find employment?” She told him and he nodded. “Fine lawyers. Their firm has a good reputation. I own a townhouse that I lived in when I was single. ′Twas too big fer me, so I stayed on the bottom floor and renovated the upper floor. Me wife and I have been married fer two months and live on the estate she inherited. Me auld place is in need of a human so it doesna feel so lonely.” He smiled and his shy grin charmed her—chicken legs or not. “Yer welcome to give it a look see.”

“Could I call you late this afternoon? I don’t even know what I’ll be earning yet. Then perhaps we can set up an appointment for me to look at it.”

“Verra well. Yer find the place clean and furnished, although I’ll be happy to move out whatever ye doona like. Or all of it, if ye have yer own things.” He flashed an indulgent smile at Effie. “Me wife seems to have taken a liking to ye. I’m sure we can come to an agreement on the rent.”