“What’s stopping you?”

  I’m ready to jerk those jeans down her hips and nail her to the wall when I hear voices outside the door. Exhaling a swear, I step back, sliding my hand over the boner in my pants.

  “Come back to the house for dinner tonight, and bring your guests.” My tone is all business, and she’s killing me leaning against the door with heat in her eyes, breathing fast. “Lurlene bought a pile of groceries, and she’s planning a big dinner for all of us.”

  Her disappointed smile is very satisfying. I like knowing she wants more, because I plan to give it to her.

  “We’ll be there.” She turns with a sigh, opening the door. “I’ll pick up our things then.”

  I catch her arm, not wanting to leave her with a pout. Leaning down, I press my lips to hers once more, and she melts into me.

  My hand rises to her cheek, and I press my thumb to her chin. She blinks her pretty eyes open slowly, and I let her go. “Tonight.”

  11

  Blake

  “Two men from New York?” Lurlene flurries around the kitchen like the house is on fire. “I don’t know if this is fancy enough. I need better dishes.”

  “An additional fifth of vodka will be plenty.” I’m only half-teasing, hoping to calm her insecurity. “Trust me, Greg and Trip aren’t picky. They’ll drink more than they eat.”

  Lurlene looks back at me as she opens a small cabinet over a partially filled wine rack. “We have a bottle of scotch and this whiskey.” She pulls out a small flask. “Hutch doesn’t drink much now that Pepper’s here.”

  That nugget of information is unexpectedly satisfying, and I watch as Lurlene lifts the lid from a pan of sizzling pork chops. The kitchen fills with the scent of garlic and herbs, and my stomach growls loudly.

  “Damn, Lurlene, what are you making?”

  She waves me away. “Just pork chops and gravy. Put those potatoes in the Cuisinart. They need to be mashed.”

  I carry a bowl of quartered, boiled potatoes from the counter beside me to the stainless steel mixer and dump them in the bowl. She’s preoccupied with the meat, and I lift a yellow box of cake mix, quickly scanning the directions on the side.

  “I’m actually not too bad with a box. Want me to whip up the cupcakes?”

  “Yes.” She doesn’t even hesitate, bumping me out of the way with her hip and flipping the switch to activate the massive beater. “Call Pepper in here, and she can help you.”

  Leaning to the side, I catch sight of Pepper and Hana in the living room playing Uno. Pepper goes out on my sister with a wild draw-four card, and she jumps up to do a little victory dance in her softball uniform. Hana throws her cards on the table, and Scar actually chuckles at her loud complaints.

  “I can do it myself.” I let the door close, returning to the island in the center of the busy room. It’s all so damned warm and homey. Hana’s playing Uno and drinking lemonade instead of gambling and smoking pot.

  I glance over at Lurlene moving fast as I mix the ingredients. “I never see Pepper playing on her phone.”

  “Hutch is fighting it.” She shakes her head, carrying the mashed potatoes “But he’s in a losing battle if you ask me. All these kids are on the TikToks and the Snapchats. She’ll be begging for her own phone soon enough.”

  I think about Hana playing games with this little girl, having experiences we never did. “I can’t remember not having a phone.”

  Hell, I can’t even remember playing cards outside a casino.

  “I keep telling him the world is changing,” Lurlene fusses. “He’s stubborn as a mule, but she manages to get around him.”

  “It’s true.” My voice is soft, and I glance at her, smiling as I slide the cakes into the oven. “I hope he’s able to hold out a little longer.”

  Warmth filters through my chest as I think about Hutch doing his best to give his little niece a traditional life. The brief time I spent at Bishop I had something of a normal life, since the nuns didn’t allow phones. I could use my computer to send emails, but I didn’t have social media.

  I think about Debbie, and the pain aches in my heart. With the weight of my uncle’s disappearance lifted, her loss and that fucking blackmail message have moved to the front burner in my mind.

  I want to trust Hutch with these things. Going to the door, I study the group in the living room waiting to eat. Trip and Greg haven't arrived, which doesn’t bother me. Our host is quietly sorting his mail at the door.

  His hair is damp from a shower, which triggers heat low in my belly, thinking of last night. He’s dressed in jeans and a black tee, and my eyes trace from his square jaw down his broad shoulders to his perfect ass.

  He’s hot as fuck, but he’s so disapproving of everything about my life in New York. I can’t really blame him, but do I trust him? Uncle Hugh clearly does.

  The oven timer dings, and I decide the next time we’re together alone, I’ll test him out with something simple. I’ll share my fears about Debbie, and if he doesn’t overreact, I’ll take a chance he can help me with the blackmail situation.

  Taking out the small pot of frosting, I think about Oscar shadowing Hana like some ominous watchdog. He would definitely put an end to her problems, only, he might burn the whole city down in the process. Would that be so bad? My eyebrow arches as I lick the knife.

  We take our usual seats at the table. Greg and Trip finally arrived, and they take seats on the other side of me at Hutch’s right. Scar is beside Hana, and Dirk texted he’s running late, not to wait, since Pepper has school.

  Lurlene let me help arrange the pork chops on a platter, which we place in the center of the table. Crisp green beans are in a white bowl beside whipped mashed potatoes in another serving dish. The pink cupcakes are under glass, and they look pretty damn good if I say so myself.

  We’re passing the food around, when Trip pops off with his usual arrogance. “I have to say, Blake, your namesake town is a bit of a snooze. I mean, if we were making a documentary, that would be one thing, but what does anyone do around here for fun?”

  I glance at Hutch who’s loading his plate, jaw tense. “I haven’t had a chance to explore Hamiltown since we’ve been back. I’ve been… busy. But we have horses to ride, and I baked these cupcakes.”

  “Quaint.” Trip inspects the pink confections and takes another sip of vodka. “So Hutch, you’re like the town detective? What’s that like?”

  Hutch levels his green eyes on my friend, and a block of concrete presses on my throat. Why did I ever think having Trip and Greg here for dinner was a good idea? They’re arrogant pricks, and Hutch has zero tolerance for bullshit.

  “It’s interesting.” He consumes a bite of meat, and Trip’s eyebrow arches.

  “You’re kidding. Tell me, what’s the worst crime you’ve handled in Hamiltown?”

  Hutch places his fork down and leans back in his chair. “I’m not at liberty to discuss the specifics of any cases, but we have our share of incidents. Mostly my job is about keeping the peace.”

  “Which you are clearly a master at. I’ve never been in a place so peaceful. How about you, Grish? Are those crickets deafening or what?”

  Hana shifts in her chair, exhaling an uneasy laugh. She’s been on edge since they arrived, and I’ve been tense, watching her for any sign of relapse. Scar’s presence is my only relief.

  Greg glances from my sister to Trip, and his eyebrows quirk in response. “Nature’s white noise.”

  “New party game.” Trip gestures at Greg and Hutch with his fork, leaning towards me. “Do a shot for every one-word answer they give.”

  I choke on my bite of pork, convinced I’ll never make it through this meal when Dirk waltzes into the room.

  “Sorry I’m late, but have I got news for… you…” His voice sputters out as Hutch stands, giving him the eye. The younger Winston smiles as he quickly takes a seat on the other side of Scar, across from Greg. “Hello, I didn’t know we had dinner guests.”

  “They’re friends of Blake and Hana’s in town for a visit,” Hutch answers, returning to his seat.

  “I don't think we’ve met.”

  A quick round of introductions, and an awkward silence falls over the table. The only noise is the clicking of metal utensils against china, and I don’t know why Pepper isn’t talking Hana’s ear off–or at the very least, Hutch’s.

  Her little eyes are droopy, and I guess she’s been practicing hard.

  I’m pretty much done, so I turn to her. “Your first game is tomorrow night, right Pep?”

  The little girl climbs onto her knees in her chair and lifts the lid off the cupcakes. “Yep, first game of the season. Uncle Hutch is going to throw the opening pitch.”

  “I heard about that.” I smile at him, and he gives me a chin lift.

  Pepper takes a cupcake for herself and one for my sister before sitting back in her chair. Their friendship is cute, but Hana is retreating into herself again.

  “What position do you play?” I take a cupcake for myself.

  “Shortstop.” She nods, getting pink frosting on her nose. “It’s like one of the best positions on the team.”

  “I can’t wait to see you play. Maybe we can all go tomorrow.” I look from her to Hutch, who’s looking at his brother with a neutral expression. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

  His eyes flicker to mine, and I can tell he wasn’t listening.

  Trip, however, heard it all. “Peewee softball? Sounds delightful. Where and when?” His sarcasm is apparent.

  “It’s not Peewee. It’s Little League.” Pepper scowls at him fiercely, and Trip holds up both hands.

  “Sorry, small-fry. I’m still learning the ropes.”

  Greg places his napkin beside his plate and stands abruptly. “Thank you for dinner. If you don’t mind, it’s been a long day.”

  “Of course,” I stand, doing the same. “I’ll ride back with you. Hana can bring the golf cart.”

  Hutch follows us to the door, catching my hand when we reach the landing. “I still think it would be better for you to stay here.”

  “Looks like you have your own personal watchdog, B.” Trip pauses outside the door.

  “The thing about watch dogs is they bite.” Hutch’s dark brow lowers. “Don’t give me a reason.”

  “Is that a threat?” Trip’s laugh is loose, and I know he’s buzzing.

  “I don’t make threats.”

  My friend shrugs, walking away to the car, and I look up at Hutch. “They’re harmless. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  “I don’t worry.” He glances at the car, flexing his jaw, and I think he might. “Still, I’ll stop by to check on you later.”

  “I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

  “Lock all the doors. I have a key.”

  I confess, his fierce expression is doing it for me. “Even better. I’ll wait up for you.”

  12

  Hutch

  “You’re certain the ledger didn’t belong to Hugh?” We’re back at the office, and Dirk is filling us in on what he found.

  “I didn’t discover it until I was in the city.” He opens the thin book, pointing to the back cover where VP-K is written in ink at the top corner. “I was able to connect each of these transfers to accounts made by Victor Petrova. The only question I can’t answer is how did Hugh get it and why?”

  I think about what Blake told me, and I remember that night a month ago and the dead trespasser of eastern European descent. I think I know the answers to both of these questions. “How many days has Hugh been gone?”

  “Almost a week, why?”

  I retrieve the note and hand it to my brother. “Read both sides.”

  He quickly reads it and looks up at me. “You checked it out?”

  “We counted fourteen days out of the pill bottle. It could be an exact count or he might have brought extra to cover his bases. Either way, we’re in a holding pattern until he decides to reappear and fill in the blanks.”

  “Not necessarily. The men in this book all have connections in the city. They’re pretty good at covering their tracks, but I've been searching the names and addresses. It’s mostly gambling and strip clubs.”

  “Laundering money the old-fashioned way.” My tone is grim, and Scar is quietly observing.

  I’m about to ask his opinion when the tip line lights up, and a reedy old-lady voice leaves a message. “Hutch? Those teenagers are at it again in the woods behind Willow Run. Sounds like a keg party, but it’s too loud on a Wednesday night. They should be at church or in bed. I don’t want to call the police, but it’s a school night. Would your guys handle it?”

  The line goes dead, and Scar looks at me. My mind is on Blake waiting for me at the mansion. Crawling between her luscious thighs is where my mind is, but Dirk just got back in town. It’s my turn to take the call.

  “Feel like going for a ride?” I look over at Scar, and he takes his boot off his desk, standing.

  “Sure.”

  We’re two blocks and a medium stretch of country road before the orange light of a bonfire illuminates the trees behind a new subdivision outside the Hamiltown boundary.

  “I bet they don’t have a permit for that fire.” Scar puts his truck in park and opens the door.

  The woods are slowly consuming an abandoned park with a small covered shed off to the side. We’ve broken up teenage keggers here before, but in this case, the music isn’t loud. The fire is burning in a clearing, and a few teens stand around it drinking and laughing.

  “She called to complain about this?” I glance over at my partner. “Hardly seems worth the effort.”

  “Old people forget what it’s like to be young.”

  Together, we slowly cross the dark grass. I don’t see signs of a keg, but as we get closer, what I do see stops me in my tracks. At the back of the covered shed, Hana sits on the wall with a half-drunk beer in her hands and that asshole Trip beside her looking more serious than he has all day.

  A low noise rumbles from my partner, and I place my hand on his arm. “Come around back with me.”

  Instead of breaking in on the kids, we follow a path into the trees where we can slip up behind the small pavilion in the darkness.

  “You came here because your uncle invited you?” It sounds like an interrogation, and my fist tightens. “Out of the blue? No warning?”

  “Blake said we were coming, so we came.” Hana sounds high, and I feel the waves of tension rolling off my partner. “Who cares?”

  “You know who cares. You left a lot of shit unresolved.”

  Hana’s head falls back, and her eyes closed. “So what.”

  “So plenty.” His voice gets harder. “What does Greg want with you?”

  “I don’t know him. He only talks to Blake.”

  “That's probably for the best.” He steps away then turns to her quickly. “The last time you saw Debbie, what did she say?”

  “I don’t remember. I want to go home.”

  “Cut the crap, Hana.” He puts his hands on her arms and gives her a shake. “You’d better start remembering. Greg came here for a reason–”

  “What reason is that, pretty boy?” Scar steps into the light.

  Trip’s head snaps around, and when he sees my partner, his hands drop. “What are you doing here?”

  “One of the quaint things about Hamiltown is people call me when kids are misbehaving in the woods. If I don’t handle it, they call the cops.”

  His jaw clenches when he looks out at the teens by the fire, but just as fast, his expression melts into his fucking detached grin. “Sounds like it’s my lucky day. It was too early to go to bed, so Hana and I decided to go for a drive. Come on, Han. I’ll take you home.”

  He holds out his hand to her, but she wobbles away from him. “No thank you. I don’t want to trip with you.” A woozy laugh huffs from her lips, blowing a lock of hair out of her eye. “Yak yak yak, so many questions. You’re no fun anymore.”

  Scar storms forward and picks her up, holding her upper arms. She staggers a bit before shaking her head like she’s trying to clear her vision. He catches her chin, frowning hard as he looks into her eyes.

  “It’s you.” Her voice turns soft, and she smiles, blinking sweetly. “I didn’t know you were coming to the party. You’re cute.”

  “You’re high as a kite,” he growls in response.

  Scar’s wolf eyes cut to Trip, who immediately holds up both hands. “I didn’t do it. Hana’s a grown woman. She gets her own drugs.”

  My partner’s expression darkens, and he looks at me. “I’m taking her home.”

  With that, he holds Hana under her arm and leads her away from the shelter. As he passes through the group of kids, he barks an order for them to break it up and go home.

  One look at him, and they immediately scatter, leaving me with Trip. “You’re giving me a ride back to the mansion.”

  He sweeps his arm in an annoying, dramatic fashion. “It would be my pleasure.”

  As we drive to Hugh’s mansion, I study my driver. “You said you came here for a reason? What might that be?”

  “To find out what happened to the girls, of course. I’ve been staying with them the past month while my mother is… between engagements.”

  I’m convinced I won’t get a straight answer out of this guy on anything, but I know one thing. “If you’re smart, which I’m not sure you are, you’ll stay away from Hana. My partner has taken an interest in her, and he doesn’t always color inside the lines.”

  “Understood.” Trip’s tone is emphatic, and he adds under his breath. “He’s got his hands full with that one.”

  “What does that mean?” I cut my eyes at him.

  “How well do you know her?”

  “If you’ve got something to say, you’d better say it.”

  His eyes slide up and down me, and he shakes his head. “Listen, I don’t like to speak ill of anyone, especially not a friend, but Hana is a user. If your scary partner is smart, he’ll keep that in mind or she’ll use him the same way she uses all of us.”