“All right,” he said. “I guarantee I will stay calm when we’re having our casual, unofficial chat with Donny Phelan.”
“Or I could do this by myself. You can be my driver and wait in the car.”
“No way in hell,” he growled. Not his usual, laid-back voice at all. But the sound of it sent vibrations of pure want along my spine and down between my thighs.
Shit. Dean had always been sexy to me when he was gentle and sweet. Pure catnip. But vengeful Dean?
Dangerous. In every sense of the word.
I wanted to drive out that very afternoon. But Dean urged caution. He wanted me to get past my next physical therapy appointment and make sure I was healing well.
We also took the time to do a bit of recon, getting a better sense of the online activities of Mr. Real Man Formula. Filling in more details.
Phelan was one of those people who kept his followersapprised of his daily activities, which made it pretty easy to predict when he would be home. He always recorded his show on Wednesdays and spent Tuesdays on prep work.
Which meant he’d probably have the time to see us on a Tuesday as well, if we could convince him. We figured surprise was better than trying to make an appointment and giving the guy a chance to claim a scheduling conflict.
On one Tuesday afternoon, Dean pulled up in front of my house in a beat-up truck. I climbed inside. The interior smelled faintly of old leather and motor oil, and the bench seat was patched with duct tape in two places.
“Hey,” he said. “I brought drinks in case you need an afternoon pick-me-up. Coffee for me, chai for you.” He nodded at the two cups in the center console.
“Thanks. Extra caffeine is probably good.” Though I’d already been up early to style my curls. I would be spending all day with Dean. Could you blame a girl for wanting to look good?
Since we’d started working together, this was my first time venturing outside my house with him, and somehow, it felt momentous. Not just because we were going to see Donny Phelan.
“Brynn told me you bought a truck,” I said. “People have been talking about you in town. Nobody knows exactly where you’re staying or what you’ve been up to.”
I’d also decided not to ask him those questions myself. Because Iwasn’t supposed to care. Yet here I was, bringing it up.
“People do like to talk in small towns,” he remarked. Giving nothing away.
Fine. Whatever. After this was over, Dean was going to leave again. That was what I had to keep reminding myself.
The Phelan property was almost an hour’s drive away. We took a winding mountain road north, climbing through stands of pine and aspen until the trees thinned and the viewopened up. Late spring had painted the landscape in vivid greens. Snowy peaks rose in the distance.
Then we descended into an open, sweeping vista. Rolling hills stretched as far as I could see, divided by split-rail fences and studded with grazing cattle. It was breathtaking. Views like this were the reason I’d never wanted to leave Hart County. Dean was the opposite. Always in search of something newer and better, it seemed.
Today he was quiet, his hands squeezing the steering wheel and making it squeak. Those white knuckles gave away the tension he was feeling.
Funny enough, I wasn’t even that nervous about seeing Phelan again.
Maybe it was because I was finally doing something, and that felt good. Or maybe it was just knowing that Dean was going to be there beside me. No matter how frustrated I got with him, I did like being around him. And I certainly needed his help with this makeshift investigation.
“So,” I said. “We still haven’t settled on our approach.”
“I know.” The muscle in his jaw twitched. “I really think you should let me take the lead. We go in, and I politely explain to Phelan that we’d like his help. I’ll ask if he noticed anything suspicious at the roadhouse that night. Give him cover for engaging with us and playing along, so that he can act like the hero.”
“Then we’re just inviting him to lie.”
“We have to expect he’ll lie regardless. But the liar always gives something away. Some hint of the truth. That’s what we need. We need certainty that he actually did this. If itwasn’thim, there’s no point in us wasting our time.”
The house appeared in the distance. It sat on a rise, commanding a view of the entire valley, with a circular driveway and a huge garage off to one side.
“You and I both have the same strategy,” I argued. “Wewant to get him to show his hand. But I think making him angry will be the fastest and most effective approach. You just don’t want him to say mean things to me.”
“Of course I don’t. You made me promise to stay calm. If he’s mean to you, it’ll be much harder.”
“And who exactly are you supposed to be, anyway? In this scenario where we show up and you’re all buddy-buddy with him at first.”
