Page 108 of Brazen Mistakes

Clara

The next day is full of preparations for the New Year’s Eve poker party, and despite all my work to find a place to fit in with the team, it’s obvious that I don’t have a role here yet.

After my best attempt at cleaning the attic and vacuuming the stairs, it’s clear there’s nothing else for me to do. The guys have it all covered.

The only criminally helpful thing I’ve been given is a request from an exhausted RJ to brainstorm a way to help his dad tomorrow, after we’ve recovered from the party. I’m glad he’s asking for help. He’s looking nearly as tired as I feel.

Instead of continuing to be in their way, I end up in my newly private bedroom, my laptop open on my desk. Why?

I have no idea. I just need to keep busy, and Netflix isn’t going to cover it. Without any more thought than that, I pull out Summer’s business card.

Her business seems legitimate, with glowing reviews and shots of her in muddy boots and jeans with big dogs’ paws up on her chest as she laughs or holding a giant umbrella over little dogs in silly-looking raincoats.

She seems good at her job. I do a quick search for how much you can make as a dog walker, and while you can make a living from it, it’s not sports cars and designer clothes money.

Maybe she’s deep in debt? I know she gambles, so that’s possible.

Only Trips wouldn’t let her play if he didn’t know she was good for the money.

Putting on my RJ hat, I go through the steps he taught me the other day, scraping all the social media I can find of Summer. It turns out that she’s hard to find. Besides her dog pictures and a handful of selfies, she doesn’t have much of a presence online.

After learning as much as I have over the last few months, the lack of info just reinforces my suspicion that there’s more to Summer than I already know.

A rap on my door has me turning around, the broken pleather of my chair catching on my sweatpants. I make a mental note to find some duct tape soon and repair my shitty chair.

Walker’s standing in the door, an easy grin on his face. “What are you up to?”

“I’m trying to figure out Summer. The things she’s told me and the things I’ve seen don’t add up.”

His grin grows. “I’m excited for you to figure it out.”

“So you know?”

“We all do. She’ll share it with you if she decides you’re trustworthy, but we demanded more information before she joined the game. It’s her secret to keep or tell, unfortunately, princess.”

“All good. I wouldn’t want you blathering all my secrets left and right, so I have to extend her the same courtesy, even if I hate it.”

He comes across my room, scooping me off my chair before sitting down himself, his face scrunching before he drags me onto his lap. “Your chair is shit,” he says.

“Sure is.”

He chuckles, kissing my neck before peering over my shoulder, clicking through the open tabs, and glancing at my notebook where I’ve been taking notes, so abbreviated that they could be mistaken as code.

Honestly, making my own code would be smart. Then I can make my lists without them being turned into evidence. Only the headliner criminal cases get the funds to bother paying to decipher gibberish.

“RJ did a good job teaching you the basics.”

“He’s an excellent teacher.”

“Want to see if I can be an excellent teacher, too?”

“Are you planning on teaching me to draw? Because I can promise you, I’m not your ideal pupil.”

His fingers slip under my shirt, brushing the skin above my waistband. “We could always start with finger paints.”

“I’m good at that. And I can draw a mean kitten, courtesy of little Isabella I nannied for two summers ago. But otherwise, I’m pretty useless.”

“I’m curious about this kitten situation. But no drawing lessons today. Instead, I figured I’d take you out climbing.”

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