Page 138 of Always Be an Us

Rick Jovin.

That one was for a friend. Nate said that when I asked why he destroyed the wheel loader. There was no reason for him to admit that, and it seemed the only honest thing he said that day.

I have a feeling that whoever he’s colluding with is someone close to him. A friend.

Those two have visited him more frequently than anyone else.

I suppose Rick's visit makes sense because according to Jensen's report, Nate had a close relationship with Rick and Grandpa Crane.

But just to confirm...

"You told Rick about who broke into Emma's place?" I ask Jensen.

"I had to," he says. "Rick came here and chewed him out for hours. Begged me to let him into the cell so he can kick his ass."

That's what I thought.

"And what about Poppy? What's her relationship with Nate."

Jensen shrugs. "I don't know that they have one. Except in the same way we all relate to one another living here. It's a pretty small town. News probably got around and Poppy got pissed about what happened to Emma and wanted to say her piece."

Jensen was likely right.

It is a small town, so it wasn't weird for Poppy Moon to be visiting Nate. But something itched at the back of my mind.

I suddenly flashback to the older woman telling me that she was about to become my worst enemy.

Shit. Was this what she meant?

An ugly feeling turned my stomach. I might not know much about the woman or her relationship with Nate, but I know about her and Emma.

Emma clearly has a lot of affection for her, and it's going to break her heart if I go after someone she cares about.

Especially since the same person broke into her house too.

Speaking of which...

I turn back to Nate

"So what did Emma's break-in have to do with it? What were you trying to hide then."

Nate Huntley seems to have decided that silence is the best option because he turns to face the wall and simply ignores me.

I could probably convince Jensen to let me in there so I can beat the answer out of him, but before I can decide on the course of action, my phone rings.

I pull it out of my pocket, feel a flare of happiness when I see that ID and answer.

"Emma."

"Declan, where are you?" It sounds like she's close to hyperventilating and worry immediately kicks to the forefront of my mind.

"Emma, what’s wrong?"

"I need to see you," she says. "I’m on my way to the Marriott with Cross. I just left the Tiki Bar."

"Okay? I'll be there shortly. But what happened?"

"I can't talk. I barely got away, but I'll tell you when I get there."

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