ZACK TURNED TO THE constable on his sofa the moment he heard his front door close on the sergeant. “Now he’s out of the way, how about a drink? I don’t know about you, but I could do with a coffee.”
“Sure, a coffee would be good,” Melissa agreed. She had been annoyed by Mitchell’s dismissal of the offer of a drink on her behalf and was happy to take advantage of the second offer.
“How do you like it?”
“White, three sugars,” Melissa said, flashing an apologetic, and slightly embarrassed, smile when Zack paused to look back at her. “I’ve got a really sweet tooth. Everyone’s always saying I should be really fat, probably diabetic, and missing at least a few teeth; don’t ask me how I’m not, I guess I must have a super-fast metabolism or something.”
“Consider yourself lucky, there’s plenty
