Page 12 of The Keeper

Kerry stepped back and narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I dare to do many things.”

Admiration made Rueben sit up taller. If he could bottle Sven’s moxie, he’d be a millionaire. Keegan showed promising signs of that audacity in the prosecutor’s office, and it had been a thing of beauty. Maybe they needed to spend more time around the stylist who wielded scissors like a sword and could cut a man with just his words.

Kerry mumbled something about cockblocking stepbrothers, but he did so in a jovial voice.

“Stepbrothers, huh?” Rueben asked.

“Sven’s dad married my mom,” Kerry said. “She owns this salon.” That meant Sven knew Seth well too. Kerry smiled at Keegan and said, “Until we meet again.” He pivoted, smirked at Rueben, and returned to the reception area, where he picked up floral arrangements and hauled them outside.

Sven sighed. “I’m so glad he swung by to get those. People mean well, but the salon is Lucinda’s happy place. She doesn’t need to get kicked in the teeth with sorrow when she comes back to work on Monday morning.”

“What’s going on?” Keegan asked.

Rueben had repeated very little of what he’d discussed with Seth the previous night. He had to explain his lengthened absence and only admitted to receiving an apology and clearing the air between them. Rueben let his thoughts wander as he watched Kerry carry one load of flowers after the other while Sven gave Keegan the abbreviated version of Natalie’s disappearance.

“No wonder Seth seemed out of sorts yesterday,” Keegan said.

Rueben wanted to shush him, but he was even more interested in what Sven had to say. He didn’t know when Kerry’s parents divorced, but they’d been married when Natalie was murdered. It felt much safer getting information from Sven than asking one of the Harts or Burkes.

“Seth was the last one in the family to see Natalie alive,” Sven told Keegan. “He’s always blamed himself. That guy carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. I sure wish he’d meet someone who’d help share the load.”

Rueben bit the inside of his cheek to keep from calling out, “He has. It’s me.”

Sven settled his hands on Keegan’s shoulders. “Can I give you a friendly piece of advice about Kerry?”

Keegan worked his bottom lip between his teeth as Rueben’s heart sank. The urge to shield his friend rose swiftly again, but Keegan probably needed to hear what Sven had to say. There wasn’t an ounce of malice or pity in the stylist’s eyes, only concern. It seemed Keegan had made an indelible impression on Sven too, but that wasn’t surprising. To know Kee was to love him. Sven kept his gaze on the mirror as he assessed Keegan’s hair. Long, slender fingers carded through the blond strands, shifting the part and testing angles.

“Okay,” Keegan said after a long stretch of silence.

Sven stopped, shifted his gaze to meet Keegan’s in the mirror. “Damn, you’re beautiful.” The blush returned to Keegan’s cheeks, and Sven sighed. “Too beautiful for your own damn good, which facilitates the next part. You’ll never find a braver or kinder man than Kerry Hart. His generosity knows no bounds, and I’ll never find a better friend.”

Keegan squirmed a little. “But…”

“I’ve never known anyone who shields their heart as fiercely. Seth plays a close second, but at least he’s tried his hand at the love thing.” That comment caught Rueben off guard, but he didn’t have time to obsess over it because he didn’t want to miss another second of the conversation. Information was gold, and Sven held the keys to the mine. “But Kerry’s heart is locked down tight. Pretty sure an X-ray would reveal a mini dragon hovering beneath his ribs.”

“You don’t have to tell me this,” Keegan said softly. “He’s not…we’re not…”

“Oh, he is very much interested in you.” Sven’s voice was gentle, but mischief sparkled in his eyes. “And you’re equally attracted to him, which is why you need to know something very important. Kerry is an honorable man, and he’ll never mislead someone to get them into bed. He means what he says, so believe him when he tells you he’s not looking for anything more than sex.”

Keegan’s mouth opened and shut a few times like a guppy before he found his voice. “He’s not. I’m not.”

“He will, and you will. Just keep in mind what I said, and maybe hold on to your heart a little too, huh?”

Keegan’s face turned an alarming shade of dark pink, but he nodded.

“Good. Now, let’s talk about your haircut.”

Their new styles were a hit at the diner. The waitstaff knew them by name and complimented the cuts. They’d grudgingly put their socks and sneakers back on, but only long enough to grab something to eat before hitting the general store to buy flip-flops. The diner was as busy as they’d expected, and several people stopped by their table to say hello. The ranch crew had become minor celebrities after the success of their YouTube channel, something they established as damage control to combat the media-fueled sensationalism surrounding the cult. The crew lived in a small enough bubble to avoid the downside of notoriety, but Rueben knew that would change as they neared pretrial hearings. He’d already rejected interview opportunities from several media outlets and investigative journalists. He’d talk about his work on Redemption Ridge all day, every day, but he wasn’t looking to become famous or infamous, so people gawking or staring irritated the hell out of him.

Rueben knew he’d captured someone’s attention when his arm hair stood at attention like good soldiers, and his skin felt like a thousand ants crawled beneath the surface. He tried to ignore the sensations and enjoy his meal, but his senses were too engaged elsewhere and overrode his taste buds. A guy learned to be astute and stay focused in jail to avoid becoming someone’s punching bag or worse. He turned his head as if to study the dessert menu written on the large chalkboard but scanned the room from the corner of his eye. A man with auburn hair and broad shoulders sat at the counter toward the front of the diner. His head was turned in Rueben’s direction, but without making eye contact, he couldn’t be sure that was the source of unease. Rueben looked out the window and scanned the other side of the restaurant from his periphery. No one else looked in their direction, so it had to be the ginger. Was he a friend or foe?

“You okay?” Keegan asked. “You haven’t said much since we sat down. Thinking about—” He cut himself off before Seth’s name slipped from his lips.

“Always.” But that wasn’t his problem. Rueben turned his head and did another periphery scan. Yep. The guy was still watching him. Or maybe the stranger was looking at his companion. That thought tripped Rueben’s protective instincts, and he nearly turned his head to initiate eye contact. Keegan seemed impervious to the attention, and the last thing Rueben wanted to do was draw his awareness to it.

Keegan sighed and nodded. “I’m sorry.”

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