Page 14 of Wood You Rather?

But this was an expense Gagnon Lumber could not afford. So I’d cover the cost. Not that I’d tell my siblings that. They were proud of and deeply invested in the business. And they did not want my money. Every one of them had made that very clear.

But more than a decade of my life had been spent in the pursuit of money. I wasn’t a billionaire or anything, but I had enough to take care of my needs as well as my family’s.

Hence the house I’d bought for my mother, which she promptly rejected.

Parker was no dummy. She wouldn’t pick up and leave her life and business in Portland without the guarantee of a decent paycheck. So I offered her a number she couldn’t pass up. Although it didn’t put much of a dent in my portfolio, it was sizable enough to draw ire from my siblings if they knew.

But for Dad? For answers surrounding his death? I’d spend my life savings for justice and peace of mind.

An image of Parker materialized in my mind. The shiny hair, the plump lips, the constant curiosity. I smiled. “We need this, guys. We need help. A pro. But someone who can be discreet, fit in and get the right evidence.”

Alice snorted. “Fit in? That’s gonna be a problem. It took a year for the townsfolk to trust me enough to allow me to order my coffee the way I like it.”

Henri pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. A gesture that made me pause. It was so easy, so affectionate, and so unlike my older brother. Alice and the kids had changed him. He was still a grumpy bastard who preferred to communicate using grunts rather than words, but he had softened. He was happy. He had purpose. And for the first time in my adult life, I was jealous of him.

“Alice is right,” Remy added. “Lovewell is not a welcoming place to outsiders. Especially outsiders poking around and asking questions. I don’t think it’s possible to keep this quiet.”

Hazel pushed her glasses up her nose. “Agreed,” she said from under the protection of the arm Remy had draped over her tiny shoulders. “She needs a cover story. The town gossip will be out of control.”

Lovewell was a small town with a proud history that was built on hard work and struggle.

It was a community of survivors. A person did not live this far north without a fierce sense of independence and a dash of crazy.

This town, this region, hell, this state, was built on timber. When the railroads came in, the forests of Maine built all the major east coast cities. Towns like Lovewell sprang up in the middle of the wilderness to support the timber trade, and citizens built their lives around it.

Times had been tough. The population had declined in the last few decades. Businesses had shut down, and towns like ours—where everyone knew everyone else—didn’t host many tourists, especially in October, or midwinter, as it was known here. So news of her presence would spread like wildfire through town.

“No one outside this room can know,” Henri said. “Not even Mom. We can’t do anything to impact the PI’s ability to find the truth.”

“And we don’t know who we can trust,” Adele added, her blue eyes steely. Never the warm and fuzzy type, she had become even more withdrawn and angry and distrustful since she’d discovered the tampered brakes.

I gave her a firm nod. I would not let anything get in the way of justice for Dad.

“You know,” Alice said, placing an artfully composed charcuterie board on the table and effectively breaking the tense silence, “we could tell everyone she’s your girlfriend. Say she’s visiting from Portland.” She clapped her hands together. “It would be perfect.”

I whipped my head around and glared until Henri cleared his throat, garnering my attention. If I wasn’t careful, my older brother would kick my ass just for looking at her wrong. Regardless of how batshit crazy her suggestion was.

Remy laughed. “You know, it’s not a bad idea. People would talk, of course, but it could give her a good excuse to be here. And the gossip would be centered on your ‘relationship.’ Plus, people would be a little more welcoming if she was dating a Gagnon.”

“No,” I gritted out, shaking my head.

At the same time, Henri said, “Yes.”

This timehewas on the receiving end of my glare.

“Think about it,” he said. “If she’s with us, at work or out at camp, no one will bat an eyelash. If she’s chatting with folks and asking questions, she’s just your curious girlfriend. It’ll work.”

“Not necessary.” My fingernails were going to leave half-moon shaped scars in the palms of my hands if I clenched any harder. It was a downright terrible idea. A fake relationship? The thought made me nauseated. I was allergic to relationships and had a strong aversion to faking anything. I was a straightforward person who hated bullshit.

My mind spun out, my thoughts racing and looping, sending the same message over and over.You can’t do this. You’ll fuck it up. It’s too much pressure. A woman like Parker would have no interest in being your fake girlfriend.

I shook my head, both to signal my opposition and to shake my brain out of its negative thought spiral. It was untenable. And though I didn’t know Parker well, I had spent enough time in her presence to know that she was professional, and she would absolutely hate nothing more than being attached to me, fake or otherwise.

“It’s our best bet. And you have more than enough room at your house.”

“Whoa.” I held up both hands. “Who said anything about my house?”

Adele gave me a withering look. “Where else would she stay, dipshit? The inn closed, and the closest motel is thirty minutes away and filled with vermin. Human, mammal,andinsect.”

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