Thirty-Two and a Half Complications (31 page)

“Oh.” I took a half step back. I hadn’t expected that.

“You were right. I thought if I kissed you, you’d see you were wrong about us.”

I sighed, weary of this fight. “Joe, even if I decided to leave Mason and be with you,
it wouldn’t work
. Your father still holds my life in his hands. Pretending like he’s never gonna use it is folly and you know it.
He will
. It’s just a matter of time. Are you really willing to do that to me? To Violet and Mike?”

He swallowed. “There has to be a way.”

“To save me from your father or to be with me?”

“Both.”

Profound sadness seeped into my bones. “Why does saving me from your father have to be a two-for-one special, Joe? If you cared anything about me, you’d want to save me even if you couldn’t be with me. Mason would.”

I started to turn around, but he grabbed my arm and spun me back around to face him, his face contorting with anger. “Don’t you dare trivialize my feelings for you,” he said through gritted teeth. “And don’t you try and compare my love for you to his.”

I tried jerking my arm out of his grasp, but his fingers dug in. “Let go of me.”

“Not until you listen to me, dammit!”

“There’s nothing to say! You just can’t handle the truth.”

Bruce Wayne sprinted toward us and stood several feet away, his hands clenched into fists. “Let her loose, Joe.”

Joe turned his steely gaze on my friend. “That’s
Deputy Simmons
to you, Bruce Wayne,” he said, his voice full of authority. “And this is none of your concern. You can leave.
Now
.”

I jerked my arm free and took several steps back. “Don’t you dare talk to him like that! You’re not talking to me in an official capacity and he’s my friend, so don’t you dare pull that deputy crap on him when all he’s doin’ is trying to protect me.”

Anger filled his eyes. “Protect you?
From me?
” he shouted.

“Joe! Look at you! You’re grabbing me and forcing me to talk to you! What do you
think
it looks like?”

His anger faded and horror replaced it.

“Joe, please.” My voice shook. “Just go.”

“Rose. I’m sorry.” He reached for me and stopped. “You have to know that,” he pleaded.

“I do, but you have to leave now.”

Bruce Wayne stood next to me as we watched him walk back to his car, shaking his head like he could barely believe his own behavior. “Are you all right, Miss Rose?”

I rubbed my arm, but not because I was physically hurt. “I’m fine, and you better start dropping the ‘Miss’ now that we’re partners.”

“We’re not yet,” he said, watching Joe’s car drive away. “Not until we get that money back. We’re meeting Skeeter at four. He wants to talk to us before the evening business picks up.”

“Four is good. Mason’s mom is coming tonight and I’m not sure how I’d explain leaving if we had to meet him in the evening.”

“Let me do this on my own, Rose. You can trust me.”

I turned to face him. “I do trust you, but you’re not going alone, just like I’m not. We either go together or not at all.”

“United we stand, divided we fall,” Bruce Wayne said softly.

“Ain’t that the truth.”

Still, I couldn’t help wondering if Bruce Wayne was right. I was about to try making a deal with the devil.

Chapter Twenty

Bruce Wayne was sitting in his car when I pulled up to Eight Baller Billiards. He got out as I approached, my stomach threatening to expel my meager lunch.

I looked up at the sign, wondering if this was so smart after all. The last time I had come here for information, I’d given Skeeter a fake name and had gotten in over my head, drinking and playing pool with him. When I’d had a vision and told him that he was going to lose a lot of money, he’d presumed I was an undercover cop and threatened my life. But if he read the papers or listened to Henryetta gossip
at all
, that confusion would be cleared up, and I wasn’t going in under false pretenses this time. I had information he might want. Hopefully, he could help me as well. Besides, I wasn’t the naïve girl I once was. But I wasn’t so sure I was
this
worldly either.

“You look nice, Bruce Wayne,” I said as I approached him. He was dressed in a clean pair of jeans, a button-down shirt—noticeably unwrinkled—and a tan jacket. I’d never seen him look so put together. When he was on trial, he’d looked like someone sadistic had been playing dress-up with him and ill-fitting suits.

“So do you, Miss—er—so do you, Rose.”

I gave him a nervous smile, giving a quick glance to my brown skirt and cream ruffled shirt. I’d decided on brown heels and a cute leather jacket at the last minute. This time, I was going for professional, not slutty. “I wasn’t sure what a person should wear to a meeting like this.”

A slow grin spread across his face. “You didn’t ask Neely Kate?”

“Shoot, no. She would have insisted on coming. Two of us is enough, I think.”

“So no one knows we’re here?” he asked in an ominous tone.

I cocked an eyebrow. “I can call Deputy Simmons if you’d like.”

He laughed. “Somehow, I think that’s a bad idea, but so is going in with no one knowin’ where we are.”

I took a deep breath. “I’m starting to have second thoughts about this whole thing.”

“Like I told you, Rose, I’ll go alone.”

“No,” I pulled out my phone and started a text to Neely Kate. “Together or not at all.”

Bruce Wayne and I have an appointment with Skeeter Malcolm in two minutes.

Her reply was almost instantaneous.
What???

I’ll explain later. If you don’t hear from me in half an hour, text me
.

I turned my phone to silent, stuffed it in my purse, and looked up, steeling my back. “Okay.”

Bruce Wayne led the way and opened the glass door to the building, letting me through. The place was nearly empty, with only a couple of guys in the back playing pool and the bartender. Bruce Wayne pushed past me and walked up to the bar. “We have an appointment with Skeeter.”

The bartender glanced up from wiping out a glass. He looked me up and down, then turned his gaze to Bruce Wayne. “He’s expecting you. Go on back to his office.”

Bruce Wayne shot me a glance and I lifted my mouth into a tight smile. When he headed for the back room, I trailed behind. The guys playing pool looked up and one catcalled. Bruce Wayne tensed, but he kept right on moving, heading through a dark doorway and down a dimly lit hall, stopping in front of a door marked
Private
. He paused a moment, then knocked.

In response to a gruff order to “Come in,” he swung the door open and walked into the room, blocking my view.

“Bruce Wayne. I have to say this was a surprise,” Skeeter said. “Introduce me to your friend.”

He moved to the side and I saw Skeeter sitting behind a large wooden desk. He was a good-looking man with an imposing presence. Dark hair framed his face and he’d shaved off the short beard he’d sported the last time we saw each other. He wore a long sleeved T-shirt that clung to his muscles and a hint of his many tattoos peeked out from under his collar. He stood when he saw me, a slow grin spreading across his face. “And who do we have here?”

I moved closer, surprised Bruce Wayne hadn’t told him I was coming. “I’m Rose Gardner.”

A sly grin lifted one side of his face. “Oh, I know who you are. I was just wondering if you’d tell me the truth this time.”

My face blushed and my heart raced out of control. “I intend to be completely straightforward with you, Mr. Malcolm.”

“Good.” He gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat. I’m eager to hear what you have to be straightforward
about
.” As Bruce Wayne and I moved toward the chairs, he lowered into his. “And call me Skeeter. I’m nowhere near civilized enough to be a mister.” He laughed and leaned an elbow on the arm of his chair while watching me settle in my seat. “Let’s not mess around with all the polite nonsense of most business dealings. Why don’t we cut right to the chase?”

“I agree.” I took a deep breath and shot a glance to Bruce Wayne before I continued. “I was in the Henryetta Bank last week when it was robbed. They stole my deposit bag, which held a great deal of cash. My insurance refuses to cover it and the bank’s insurance refuses to pay up because I didn’t actually make the deposit. I
need
that money.”

His eyes narrowed in confusion. “So you need a loan?”

“No. I want
my
money. I’m nearly positive the robbers still have it.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“I think they robbed the bank and then Big Bill’s because they want to bid on Crocker’s business.”

He laughed and leaned back on his chair, kicking his feet up on his desk. “Well, now. That’s an interesting theory. I’ve heard you’ve been like Henryetta’s very own Nancy Drew since Crocker killed your momma, though, so maybe you know something I don’t.”

I stayed silent, unsure how to answer.

“What makes you think your theory is correct?” He waved to Bruce Wayne. “I mean, if Bruce Wayne walked in here and told me that, I wouldn’t just hand him a bunch of money.” He turned back to me, his eyes turning cold. “So let’s cut the bullshit and be straight about what we each want. You want your money back and I want Crocker’s business. How can we make sure we both walk away from this happy?”

I took a deep breath. “If I give you useful information, will you help me get my money back?”

He chuckled. “Sweetheart, if you can help me get to these guys before they outbid me, I’ll put you on my damn payroll and call it a bonus.”

I gave him a nervous smile. “That’s not necessary. I just want my money.”

“We’ll start there and leave the door open to future business dealings.”

“Are you a man of your word, Skeeter Malcolm?”

He laughed. “You are a piece of work, aren’t you?” He put his feet down and leaned on the desk with an elbow. “Let me give you a piece of advice, Rose Gardner, because if you’re gonna get your feet dirty, a tiny piece of fluff like you needs to be prepared:
No one
is a man of his word. Not Bruce Wayne, not that sheriff’s deputy you dated, and not that fancy pants assistant DA you’re living with who’s gunnin’ to bring me down, and last but certainly not least, not me.”

I tried to stifle my gasp.

“Don’t look so surprised. Hell yeah, I know all about you. Scooter calls me up and tells me Bruce Wayne wants to bring his new boss by to get my help, you can bet your ass I did some digging. How do I know this isn’t some big setup so your new boyfriend can get a feather in his cap?”

My pulse pounded in my head. “I’d give you my word, but apparently that’s about as worthless as a three-dollar bill.”

He laughed again. “I like you, Rose Gardner.”

“Enough to work with me?”

“First you have to prove you’re not workin’ with your boyfriend. And your word doesn’t count.”

“Skeeter,” Bruce Wayne said, sounding nervous. “She ain’t. I know her and she went out of her way to hide the fact she was coming here from him.”

“Why me?” he asked. “Why not just ask your boyfriend to get the money back? Or hell, I’m sure he’d give it to you.”

“Even if the police or sheriff’s department find my money, it may be confiscated or held as evidence. And since I didn’t record serial numbers, I can’t even prove it’s mine. dpg - And I won’t ask Mason or anyone else to plain give me money because
this business is mine
.” I was getting angry, which wasn’t a smart thing to do with someone like Skeeter Malcolm, but I was tired of people expecting me to just rely on a man to solve my troubles. “Bruce Wayne and I have worked our hinies off to build this business up and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let some low-life crooks take it from us. I want what’s mine and I’m offering you information that will serve you. It’s a win/win, Mr. Malcolm, and I’m not going to waste my time by trying to prove
diddly squat
to you. You may claim no one’s word is trustworthy, but I’m telling you that mine
is
. You either take me at my word or you tell me to walk out the door.”

He stared at me expressionlessly for a long moment, and I worried I’d pushed him too far. I needed his help, but I also preferred to leave this place alive and in the same shape in which I’d arrived.

Skeeter turned his gaze to Bruce Wayne. “Where’d you find her?” He sounded amused. “She’s something else.”

Bruce Wayne swallowed and nodded his head, his face pale. “That she is.”

“Fine,” Skeeter said, leaning back in his chair again. “I like you, Rose Gardner, so I’m going to take you at your word and work with you.” His face hardened. “But if I find out you double-crossed me, I’ll hunt you down to the ends of the earth and make you wish you were dead. Understood?”

My breath stuck in my throat and I forced out a breathless, “Yes.”

“Good.” He grinned again. “Now that that’s settled, let’s get down to business. Tell me what you know.”

“I know there’s at least four of them.” The interest in his eyes suddenly had me worried. What would Skeeter actually do to these guys if he found them? Why hadn’t I thought about that part?

“Go on.”

I was already rushing headlong into this madness, and it was too late to turn back now. “The guy with the SpongeBob mask at the bank was named Mick. I saw the face of the second guy with the Batman mask, but I don’t know his name. I looked at a bunch of mug shots but never found him, so there’s a good chance he doesn’t have a record. Then there’s two more. The third guy has a brown beard and bushy eyebrows. He smokes. And the last guy—I know he’s one of four guys, but I’m not sure which. Or it could even be Samantha Jo Wheaton, but I doubt it.”

Skeeter pursed his lips, looking impressed. “Anything else?”

“One of them drives a gold Charger that belonged to Mr. Sullivan, the bank’s loan officer, and another had a black pickup with a long scratch down the side. I’m certain that Mr. Sullivan was part of all this, but he wanted out. Mick killed him because he was worried he was goin’ to talk. On the afternoon of the robbery, the black truck turned down the road where Mr. Sullivan’s body was later found. Mr. Sullivan hadn’t shown up to work or called in sick that day. The robbers have been meeting at the abandoned fertilizer plant and they’re pooling a bunch of money for something big on Friday. I’m guessing it’s the auction.”