Page 48 of Trouble Comes in Threes

Bruce Wayne, standing by the man, looked up, his face sagging with relief as he walked a few feet closer to us. “Oh, good. You have NK with you.”

“What’s goin’ on?” she asked, turning her attention to the man sitting on the grass. I didn’t know the crew very well—his guys tended to keep to themselves—but I recognized most of them by sight, even the new ones, and hadn’t seen this guy before.

“All right,” Bruce Wayne said to the other workers, who had stopped to see what was going on. “Everyone get back to work. We’re already running behind because we’re short a guy. No need to make us further behind.”

“You’re down a guy?” I asked, glancing around.

“One of the new guys I hired a couple of weeks ago didn’t show.”

“That’s been happening a lot lately,” I said with a frown.

“True, but that’s not why I called,” Bruce Wayne said. He stared at me solemnly. “You don’t have to do this.”

My stomach twisted, and somehow I knew what he was going to say before he said it.

“Do what?” Neely Kate asked.

The man on the ground stared up at me, his face pale. Dark circles underscored his eyes. He looked terrified. “Are you the Lady in Black?”

Neely Kate gasped, but I moved closer and squatted in front of him, my heart pounding so hard against my ribs, I wondered if he could see it. “I used to be, but I haven’t been her in a long time.”

His chin quivered. “I need your help.”

I squashed the panic billowing through me. I needed to focus. I needed to think. “I’m not sure I can help you, but if you tell me what the problem is, I’ll see what I can do.”

He hesitated, then glanced up at Bruce Wayne.

“You can trust her,” Bruce Wayne said. “I wouldn’t have called her if you couldn’t.”

I wasn’t sure whether to thank Bruce Wayne or strangle him. Instead, I focused on the man in front of me. But when I looked beneath the dirt smeared across his face, I realized he wasn’t a grown man. He was a teenager.

Crap.

I’d helped a kid several years before, and he’d looked just as scared. Mitchell now worked in Jed’s garage, and I couldn’t help feeling a tug on my heartstrings to help the boy in front of me.

I sat on the grass, cross-legged, and rested my elbows on my thighs. “What’s your name?”

“Austin.”

I nodded. “Hi, Austin. I’m Rose. How old are you?”

He looked insulted. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-nine. Thirty this fall,” I said matter-of-factly, unphased by his antagonism. He was scared, and scared people acted out. “I promise you I’ve helped people of all ages, even teenagers, and I’ve never turned someone who came to me for help into the police or the sheriff.”

“But you’re married to the sheriff,” he said with a sneer. “I’ve seen pictures of you in the paper.” He shot a dark look at Bruce Wayne. “You said she’d help me, but I didn’t know she was the sheriff’s wife.”

“I said you could trust her,” Bruce Wayne said in a no-nonsense tone, “and you better give her the respect she deserves or get the hell out of here.”

“So she can turn me in as soon as I leave?” he demanded.

“What would I turn you in for?” I asked, sitting upright. “I don’t even know what you’ve done.”

“I didn’t do anything. I swear!” he said in a panic.

“Okay, Austin,” I said softly. “So why don’t you tell me why you need help.”

He took several deep breaths, looking like he was about to cry. “I saw something I shouldn’t have, and now I think they’re gonna kill me.”

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