8. Tucker
As I stepped outside, the cool night air hit me like a welcome reprieve from the heat that always seemed to cling to Barto’s presence. I glanced down, only to find Gertie falling in step beside me like a loyal guard dog. She’d probably been waiting out here the whole time, like she had some sixth sense for when I needed backup.
“Not much for subtlety, huh?” I muttered, half-expecting the goat to respond.
She didn’t, of course, but the rhythmic clop of her hooves on the pavement was answer enough.
As we made our way back to Hope’s place, I kept up a one-sided conversation with my four-legged companion. “What do you think? Is that old man hiding something?”
Gertie bleated softly, her pace never faltering.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I said, shaking my head. “You keepin’ tabs on me now, too? You know, you’re startin’ to remind me of someone…”
Before I could finish the thought, something flickered in the distance—just a tiny beam of light. I narrowed my eyes, slowing my steps as I caught sight of Dakota, crouched down near the spot where I’d been shot. She was using her phone light, sweeping it back and forth over the ground like she was on some kind of scavenger hunt.
What in the ? —?
I picked up the pace, moving silently through the trees, Gertie still trailing behind me.
When I got close enough, I leaned in. “Boo.”
Dakota yelped and jumped about a foot in the air, spinning around to face me with wide eyes. “What the heck!” she gasped, clutching her phone like it was some kind of weapon. Without missing a beat, she shoved me in the chest.
I didn’t move an inch, of course.
“I didn’t even hear you comin’,” she panted, glaring up at me in the dark. “What are you, some kind of lumberjack ninja?”
The image that flashed through my mind was so ridiculous that I almost laughed. Almost. I could picture it—me, wielding an ax in one hand, shurikens in the other, all while wearing a flannel shirt. I shook the thought away, barely managing to keep a straight face.
“What are you doing out here, Wildcard?” I asked, raising a brow.
“Lookin’ for clues, same as you,” she said, her tone completely matter-of-fact, as if it wasn’t absurd for her to be out here, in the dark, putting herself in danger. Before I could call her out on it, she took a cautious step back, eyeing me warily. “Well, I hope same as you, anyway,” she added.
I crossed my arms. “You hope?”
“Yeah, well, it’s either that or you’re here to kill us, and if that’s the case, I’m prayin’ your booty shooter is nearby. And with better aim this time.”
I stared at her, trying to figure out if she was serious. Booty shooter? The girl was completely out of her mind. And fearless, apparently. I didn’t know if I should be impressed or worried.
“You do realize you’re making light of several very dark things right now, don’t you?” I asked, my voice flat.
She shrugged, her lips twitching as if she was trying to hold back a grin. “You’re right. I shouldn’t joke about you gettin’ shot. It was highly insensitive. How is your butt?”
I didn’t answer. Partly because the last thing I wanted to discuss with her—or anyone, for that matter—was the condition of my butt, but mostly because the fact that she was out here with just her phone light, cracking jokes about a shooter on the loose, made me feel queasy.
Or maybe it was that server at the diner earlier. Norma, right? She hadn’t exactly seemed thrilled to have me as a customer, and I wouldn’t put it past her to sneak something into my food.
I glanced back at Dakota, who was still grinning up at me in the dark, completely unfazed. Great. Just what I needed—another complication I didn’t have time for.
“Does Adam know you’re still staying here? Much less tromping through a crime scene?” I asked, crossing my arms as I looked down at her.
Dakota lifted her chin defiantly. “You’re trompin’ through it, too.”
I let out a dry chuckle. “That’s different. And I don’t tromp. Lumberjack ninja, remember?”
She laughed, the sound bright and airy, and I hated how it got to me. There was something about her laugh that was… infectious. It had a way of making me want to smile, even when I had no business doing so. I bit down on the inside of my cheek, battling to keep my expression in check.
Nope. Not happening. No smiles for you, Dakota Cole.
“Seriously, I’m a licensed professional—” I started to say, determined to get the conversation back on track.
“Oh, here we go,” she interrupted, rolling her eyes. “Is this the part where you tell me this is too dangerous for a silly little girl like me, and I should leave the dangerous work to the menfolk?”
I blinked, momentarily thrown off. “Um, no. I was going to say you’re—from what I hear—a highly capable ER nurse, and explain that I don’t show up in your ER trying to do your job, so don’t be sneaking around here trying to do mine.”
She stared at me, her mouth opening and closing like she didn’t know what to say to that. I wasn’t sure if I’d shocked her or if she was just processing the fact that I hadn’t gone full caveman on her.
“But,” I added, taking a step closer, my voice low, “now that you mention it, it is silly that you’re not at all worried about the danger you might be in. And you are pretty little.”
Her eyes narrowed at me, and she bristled at the comment. “I’m not that little. You’re just a giant.”
I sighed. “I won’t call you fun-sized if you stop calling me a giant. Let’s not pick at each other’s childhood scabs, okay?”
She shook her head at me, a wry smile tugging at her full lips as she regarded me like she was trying to figure me out. “Who are you?” she asked, her tone soft but laced with amusement.
“Tucker Black.”
“I knew that part from your chart, remember?” Dakota shot back with a teasing grin.
I smirked, feeling a familiar tug of amusement despite myself.
This girl.
“I meant… who are you, really? Why are you here? That’s the second time you’ve surprised the heck outta me with psychology references, yet you’re actin’ like a big bad bounty hunter on a mission to bring in one of my best friends. And just so you know,” she added, jabbing the air between us with her finger, “if you are tryin’ to bring her in for somethin’, you’re not gonna do it without a fight. She didn’t do whatever you think she did.”
Her fierce loyalty was almost endearing—almost. And the way she was ready to jump to Hope’s defense without even knowing the full story…
It was not attractive at all. Nope. Not even a little.
But I did admire how much she cared for her friend, in a way that reminded me of how I’d stick up for Colt in a heartbeat.
“If you don’t know what I think she did, how do you know she didn’t do it?” I challenged, tilting my head.
Dakota’s eyes went wide as if a light bulb had gone off. “I’m right, aren’t I? You’re not just a private eye—you are a bounty hunter! That tracks. You look like a bounty hunter.”
I wasn’t dumb enough to be surprised that she’d figured out I was a private investigator, but the fact that it was public knowledge still irked me. Not ideal. Being a PI wasn’t something I liked being broadcasted, especially while working a case. And it definitely wasn’t something I ever told women.
“I’m not a bounty hunter. Just a PI,” I clarified.
“Oh, good.” She visibly relaxed, but only for a second. Her brow furrowed as she glanced into the dark trees around us. “But then, why…” She trailed off, clearly racking her brain. “Nope. I’ve got nothin’. I can’t think of a single reason a private investigator would be at Hope’s house, diggin’ for dirt. She’s not married, so it’s not a cheatin’ spouse thing…”
I sighed. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”
“Nope. I’m a dog with a bone.” Dakota’s grin returned, more determined than ever.
It took everything I had not to joke about her being a chihuahua or some other pint-sized, overly energetic creature. “If I tell you why we’re here and how it involves Hope, will you promise to stay out of it?”
“Absolutely not. Can’t do that.”
“Why not?” I almost growled the words, my patience at an absolute breaking point.
She snickered. “If you grew up runnin’ around with the Wilson boys, you’d understand. I don’t make promises without knowin’ exactly what I’m gettin’ into. They’re pranksters, you see, and the wrong promise could lead me down a lot of shavin’-cream-slicked roads, if you know what I mean.”
I didn’t. But I did know the sunshine-with-a chance-of-hurricane in front of me was quickly becoming one of the most fascinating people I’d ever met. And that said something, considering my line of work.
She crossed her arms, which angled her phone’s flashlight into the trees behind her like a beacon in the night. “Now, spill your guts, or let me get back to work. We’re burnin’ moonlight here.”
“First, turn that light off. You’re practically sending up a bat signal for anyone who might care that we’re out here.”
She winced and did as I asked, then promptly crossed her arms again. “Good call.”
It was the smart thing to do, but now that we only had the light from Hope’s porch, I already missed being able to see more of her than I could now. She was very expressive, and I couldn’t help but enjoy the way her eyes lit up every time I said something that, well, shouldn’t have made them do that. It kept me on my toes.
I leaned against a nearby tree, tucking my hands into the pockets of my coat. “Did you know Hope’s grandpa?”
“Not well. He was kind of a recluse. Even before his health started failin’, he rarely left the house,” Dakota said, her voice a little softer now.
“And you’re really close with Hope?”
“I am now, but unlike most of my friends who grew up here, I didn’t meet her until a few years ago. She came to Charlotte Oaks to help him, and she was so busy between her job at the station and carin’ for her grandpa that we really didn’t see each other much. But about eight months ago, Paisley started workin’ with her, and we brought her into the fold.” She gave a small smile, but there was something deeper in her eyes—like she knew exactly what it meant to be pulled into someone’s family.
“The fold?” I raised an eyebrow, curious about her choice of words.
She shrugged as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Yeah. You know, the fold. Our family.”
“You just brought her into your family? Just like that?” My skepticism slipped out, and I wasn’t sure why I even cared.
“Well, it wasn’t really ‘just like that,’” she said, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Or maybe it was. That’s what we do when someone just fits. Isn’t it like that for you and your buddy, Colton?”
“We grew up together.”
“Okay, well, family isn’t always blood, and it doesn’t have a timer on it, either. Just ask Paisley how it was when she first came around. Shoot, ask Riley and Rory. They’re close as any two siblings could be, but they only just met when she came lookin’ for him a little while back. You’d never know it sittin’ around the family table, though. They just fit.”
Her words hit harder than they should’ve. She talked about family like it was easy, like it just happened . But for me, family had always been something complicated, with strings attached.
My head spun, trying to follow along with her, but I’d done my homework while waiting for nightfall so I could meet with Anthony Barto. I’d learned that Paisley Stevens was the former music manager that Wilson was engaged to, as well as a little about Riley and his mysterious sister. In fact, I’d dug up several tidbits about the people in Dakota’s hoard of found-family members, and I told myself it was because I wanted to make sure my bases were covered with the case.
But honestly? It was also curiosity, and considering what they say about curiosity and cats, if I were a cat, I’d be worried for my safety.
Either way, it was time to fill her in just enough to keep her from getting in the way—or hurt. “I was hired by a man who believes Hope’s grandpa has something valuable that belongs to him, and he wants it back. So, Colt and I are here to recover it.”
“Why didn’t he go to the police?”
I could feel her eyes on me, sharp and curious, always pushing for more answers. She wasn’t the type to let things slide. “He did, but there wasn’t anything they could do for him, so they said.”
She narrowed her eyes, arms crossing over her chest as she studied me. “Did Adam tell you that?”
“What?” Her question caught me off guard.
“Did Adam confirm that? Or is that just what your client told you? To me, ‘recover’ sounds a whole lot like ‘steal it back.’”
I stared at her, my mind whirling, trying to decide how much to reveal. She was too clever for her own good, always jumping to conclusions that weren’t far off. Her ability to pick apart a situation was unsettling.
“I’m just sayin’,” she went on, holding out her hands in that casual, matter-of-fact way that somehow still managed to get under my skin, “before you go and do that, you should probably find out what really happened when—or if—your client went to the police.”
Puzzle pieces started to click into place in my mind, and I groaned, pushing off the tree and stepping toward her again. “Oh no.”
“What?” She blinked, genuinely curious, but I could see the glimmer of mischief in her eyes.
“You’re one of those.”
“One of what’s?”
I paused, giving her a look before lowering my voice like I was revealing a dirty secret. “A true crime junkie.”
Her face lit up in a grin, all too pleased with herself. “And?”
“And, that means you’re gonna be even more of a pain in my—” I stopped myself, holding up a finger between us, silently warning her not to make another butt joke. “Don’t.”
“Oh, come on. You almost walked right into it,” she teased, her voice dripping with amusement as if this was all just a game to her. She had no idea how close she was to driving me crazy. “Anyway, what’s wrong with being a true crime girl?”
“A lot.” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “You know just enough to get yourself killed.”
She huffed, the sound half-indignant, half-playful. “Rude. You have to admit it’s a good point about whether or not he went to the cops. Maybe he didn’t.”
“Wildcard, you’re missing my point.” I stepped closer, watching her expression shift slightly as I lowered my voice. “This case…”
I paused, just long enough to see the flicker of concern in her eyes. “Yeah?”
“Something’s not right. I don’t… Well, I don’t want you around it.”
Her brow furrowed as she tilted her head, whispering, “Around what, exactly?”
“I don’t know yet. But it feels… dangerous.”
I thought I finally had her convinced, thought maybe, just maybe, she’d back down for once. But then, in true Dakota fashion, she waved off my warnings with a roll of her eyes. “You’re just sayin’ that because you got shot.”
“That’s a good reason to say it.”
“Maybe so, but I’m only here because it concerns my friend,” she said, her tone softening but her resolve still firm. When I met her stare, unwavering and just as stubborn as ever, she crossed her arms defiantly. “What, so you, Colton, and your little brother can be around this dangerous thing, but I can’t?”
I fought the urge to laugh at her logic. “It’s literally our job. As for Austin? I didn’t have a say in that since he followed us here without me knowing.”
She waved me off like I’d just said something she had no time for. “We’ll come up with a plan to keep Austin out of harm’s way?—”
“We?” I almost sputtered the word. “There is no we .”
“Sure there is.” She smiled sweetly like she hadn’t just declared herself part of my team, as if she’d already decided we were in this together whether I liked it or not.
I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped, and I found myself stepping even closer, our faces now inches apart. So close, in fact, that it felt like the only dangerous thing in these woods wasn’t the case we were working—it was her. Or, more specifically, whatever the heck was brewing between us. “Are you always this stubborn?”
As predicted, she didn’t back down. “Are you?”
She was insufferable. She was exactly the kind of woman I’d always avoided. She asked too many questions, and she clearly had a habit of taking too many risks. And contrary to what she said at the vending machine, Dakota Cole knew exactly which buttons to push, and was an expert at pushing too many of mine.
It should’ve morphed me into the version of myself who could make her stop flirting with me and start backing off—I knew he was in here somewhere. Instead, I was two seconds away from kissing her.
What was I doing? We were standing in the spot where I’d been shot.
“Look,” I said, taking a giant step back, “if you really want to help, and if you’re sure Hope’s grandpa is innocent, why don’t you ask her if I can go inside and take a look around? My client thinks his property is in a safe in the old man’s basement.”
Dakota bit her lip and considered my words. "No."
I lifted a brow, not sure I’d heard her right.
"I don’t want Hope involved. I don’t want her worried about you being in her basement or about what else might be down there."
Her answer surprised me, and I found myself once again admiring her loyalty. Still, I pressed. "I get that, but you know what the alternative is, right?"
She furrowed her brow, confusion flickering across her face. "No…"
I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice. "I break in when I’m sure you two are busy painting or eating pizza or whatever other girls’ night activity is on the menu, and I have a look myself."
Her mouth dropped open. "That’s illegal."
I pursed my lips, giving a nonchalant shrug. "Not leaving me much choice."
Her eyes narrowed as she glared up at me, hands on her hips. "No wonder you got shot in the butt."
“Rude.”
There was a long pause, the tension stretching between us. I could practically see the gears turning in her head as she weighed her options, her eyes flicking between mine as though trying to read my intentions. Telling her I’d break in was meant to scare her off and make her realize how serious this was, but all I’d done was pull her further in. And somehow, staring into those sharp eyes of hers, I wasn’t as annoyed by that as I should’ve been.
"Okay, here’s the deal," she said, straightening up, determination hardening her features. Her voice had an edge of finality that made my heart sink. She wasn’t going to back down. "Meet me here tomorrow afternoon while Hope’s at work. I’ll let you have a look around, and we won’t say a word to her about it. I’m sure you’re wrong, and if you are, there won’t be any need to worry the poor girl."
"Seriously?" I raised an eyebrow, surprised at how easily she’d agreed.
"What? You’re gettin’ to have a look around without havin’ to break in."
I shook my head, incredulous. "I just told you I’m willing to break the law to do my job, and now you’re offering to meet me here— alone —and go into a creepy basement with me?"
She grinned, not a trace of fear on her face. "Um, hate to break it to you, but that doesn’t scare me."
"It should," I said softly, taking a step closer, the tension between us shifting into something electric. I wasn’t sure what unsettled me more—the fact that she wasn’t scared or the fact that I didn’t want her to be.
"Why? You already told me you could break in, and you admitted enough about girls’ nights to let me know you’ve been stalkin’ us. If you wanted to hurt me, would you really show so much of your hand first?"
I clenched my jaw, frustrated that she was making sense. She had a point. But still, something about this girl’s fearlessness unnerved me.
"So, you’ll meet me here tomorrow? Say, five o’clock?" she asked.
I grunted in response, unable to muster more than that. She was far too close, and every inch between us felt charged.
She smirked, clearly enjoying her victory. "I’ll take that as a yes."
I watched her back away, the playful glint in her eyes making me more nervous than I wanted to admit. I rubbed the back of my neck. "Will you go inside now, please?"
"Are you gonna be out here lookin’ for clues?" she asked, her voice lilting with that teasing tone I was quickly becoming too familiar with.
“Yep.”
“Alright. Well, at least I know nothin’ will happen to me while you’re out here,” she sang out, backing toward the house with that playful smile still on her lips.
"Why’s that?" I asked, taking the bait even though I knew I shouldn’t.
She paused at the porch steps, glancing over her shoulder. "You saved my butt in the square, remember? You showed your hand then, too."
I couldn’t help but chuckle at that, shaking my head. As she turned and climbed the porch steps, the sway of her hips caught my eye, and for a second, I let myself forget about the case. For a second, I just watched her disappear into the house, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I’d shown more than my hand tonight. I’d let her in, made a deal with her that was only going to get her more entangled in this mess. And yet, here I was, standing in the cold, knowing I was in far deeper than I should’ve been—and not just with the case.