Page 60 of Lake House Killer

I lift a brow because I have a feeling I know exactly which boyfriend that would be. It’s not Ryan because clearly, that ship has sailed.

“Okay,” I say, closing my eyes a moment too long. “We can work out all the kinks later. Right now, I just need to know where Erin is.”

“There are no kinks to work out.” His voice is sharp. “My deal is with her, not you. So if you’d like, you’re welcome to enjoy the show. Otherwise, you don’t have any business with me.” He starts to take off and I hold a hand his way.

“Whoa,” I say, patting the bar in an attempt to make him stay. “At least tell me if you told her where to find Erin.”

He nods as he examines my face for a moment. “Riley knows everything to land her at Erin’s feet. But it’s like I told her—move slowly, deliberately. That woman is like a squirrel with its tail on fire. She gets wind of this, she’s taking off. I’m not making any guarantees.”

He walks away and disappears into a back room.

Squirrel with its tail on fire.

It turns out, he really does know my sister.

Buddy and I get up and head for the exit, but before we get halfway there, we bump into an all too familiar face.

“Well, well,” I say. “Look who the pussy cats dragged in.”

38

Special Agent Fallon Baxter

Jack Stone stands before me right here in the Velvet Lounge Gentlemen’s Club, dark jacket, hair slicked back, facial scruff a little out of control, and his blue eyes blaring my way like sirens.

“By all means, don’t let me stop you,” I say, stepping to the side.

A crooked smile takes over as he shakes his head.

“Hey, Buddy.” He gives the pooch a hearty scratch over the head before straightening and pinning his eyes to mine again. “I happened to have left Whispering Woods right after you did. I was heading to the diner. I thought you might be, too. Then you took a turn out of town. I’ll admit, you had my curiosity piqued.”

“So you followed me,” I say with a laugh caught in my throat.

“You have my dog.” He tips his head and that cocky grin of his ticks over his cheeks for a second. “I needed to make sure Buddy was safe.”

I’d contest whose dog he is, but at this point, Buddy feels as if he belongs to the both of us.

“Keep walking,” I say as we thread our way out of the Velvet Lounge and into the crisp autumn night as downtown Denver glitters all around us.

“What happened with Marco?”

“My sister and your brother happened.” I quickly give him the breakdown and his chest expands the size of a wall.

“Geez,” he spits it out, just as annoyed as I am.

“It’s refreshing to see someone share in my level of irritation. Thank you for that,” I tell him.

He shakes his head. “Leave it to my brother to land me in front of a mobster’s bullet.”

“Leave it to my sister to do the same—to me,” I say, incensed. “I was all set to play the part of the dirty fed.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Is that your way of admitting I’m right?” That lopsided grin rises on his face again.

“That’s my way of admitting I have two idiots for siblings.”

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