The aroma of something savory cooking in the crockpot on the counter filled the room, and my stomach growled in interest.Taking in the small living area, I couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at my lips at the array of toys scattered across the floor. In the corner was a child-size round table with a little tea set on top, dolls in three of the four small chairs. Adjusting my hold on the gun grip, I moved around the room, stepping over Sam’s things and weaving around furniture while monitoring my surroundings. It didn’t feel off like it did for Calista, but I sure as hell would not let my guard down.
After a clear sweep of the kitchen followed by the two bedrooms and bathrooms, I holstered my gun. Standing in the middle of the living room, arms folded over my chest, I found my gaze falling on the small table again, something drawing my attention. Steps light and sure, I crossed to the corner, squatting low to inspect the play set.
My harsh curse echoed in the quiet room. A note sat perched against the pink plastic teapot, the writing clear and the spelling correct, which instantly told me Sam was not the author.
Mindful not to leave prints, I used one of the doll’s creepy plastic hands to adjust the note so I could read it. As the words processed, boiling anger filled my veins and pulsed in my ears while dread sank in my gut like a hundred-pound weight.
“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. But which am I? Leave, or your girls will be the next ones needing missing person flyers.”
Holy shit.
This was bad. Really fucking bad. First Caroline went missing along with all the other women on the trail, and now the sick fuck had broken into someone’s cabin here, leaving a threat without any of us noticing.
Which made one aspect of these cases very clear.
The person responsible for everything evil in our town was someone we knew.
15
WEST
Excited chatter and loud laughter filled the bar around us. Like usual around dinnertime, Dave’s was packed, all the locals coming out for their few hours of social time before heading back home. We had scored a four-person round top toward the back with a decent line of sight to the front door so we could watch for Eric and Stephanie. A roar of laughter from my right had me twisting in the seat with a grin.
Seemed everyone was having a great night. Well, everyone but the gorgeous woman across from me. I studied the way she sat up straight, shoulders back, gaze locked on the large front door, jerking every time it swung open. It was clear she was nervous, but like we’d discussed on the way to Dave’s, it was her best option to gain control of the situation.
Disgust and rage burned in my gut, stealing my appetite, the longer I thought about the deceptive way the couple went about blindsiding Juno. They knew she wouldn’t want to see them, especially here together, yet they staged the surprise visit, which was a total asshole move and made me wonder what they were hoping to achieve by doing all this. Though after hearingLangston’s perception of them, the whole messed-up plan had to be that dipshit Eric’s idea.
Not that her stepsister was innocent by any means, but the more Juno talked about Eric, the more I understood that he wasn’t just a selfish asshole but a manipulative one too.
“How long do you think we should wait?” Juno asked, focused on the empty water glass she spun along the tabletop. “I’m worried.”
Brow furrowed, I pitched forward, pressing both forearms to the edge of the round table. “About what?”
“What if he got hurt or something went wrong? You should call him to see if everything is okay.”
No clue why she thought I would have Eric’s number, but also, why did she sound upset at the thought of him being injured? “I don’t have his number, but I have to admit, I wouldn’t care if he did get hurt, or hell, fell into the bay on his way here. It would solve a lot of problems, if I’m being honest.”
Juno’s head popped up where it had dropped forward, shock written all over her features. “How can you say that? He’s your best friend, and you two being a package deal is not a problem. I’m fully aware that you’re a buy-one-get-one type thing, and not just because of how hands-on he was with you last night. Plus, we live in a multi-partner community. Did you actually think I would want to split you two up? And of course you have his number, so why are you lying?—”
My heart swelled with her ramblings. Reaching across the table, I threaded my fingers through her thick hair to pull her lips to mine, ending her speech with a demanding kiss. It only took a second for her to melt into me, lips moving against mine and parting, allowing me to tangle my tongue with hers.
I pulled back a fraction with a smirk. “I thought you were concerned about that dipshit ex of yours being hurt, not Langston.” Her nose scrunched in the most adorable disgust.“But good to know that you understand Lang and I are what we are and you’re not interested in splitting us up or asking us to stop. One thing is certain: You either get both of us or neither, sweet cheeks. But it sounds like you already knew that.” I shifted to brush my lips against the shell of her ear. “And I think you like the idea of him and me together. Of having two men worship you, yes, but the thought of us together turns you on, doesn’t it?”
Her sharp inhale and hissed breath confirmed my suspicions.
“What are you two to each other?” she asked, bright eyes searching mine. “Boyfriends? Friends with benefits?”
An ache built in my cheeks from the wide smile splitting my face. “We’ve never labeled ourselves, but I guess you could say friends with benefits who would kill for each other but are exclusive with men.” I chuckled at the way her lips parted in surprise. “You can ask any of the questions you want about us; we’re not shy about who we are. But I want Lang involved in the conversation, so maybe we put a pin in it for now.”
As if saying his name reminded her of his absence, Juno’s gaze jerked to the door. “Can you call him, please. I didn’t like leaving him there alone.”
Warmth swelled in my chest at the genuine concern in her tone. Though she didn’t need to be. Langston could handle almost any situation with his military background, anger management issues, and sharpshooting skills. The man was a badass in every sense of the term, but it was sweet that she was worried—it meant she cared for the asshole.
Teeth sunk into my lower lip, attempting to smother my wide grin, I reached into the front pocket of my jeans to slide my phone free. Tapping his number, I pressed the smooth screen to my ear, her eyes tracking each movement like a hawk. It rang several times before going to voicemail. Staring at the screen, I called again but had the same result.
The earlier grin had dimmed, my concern mounting. “I’m sure he’s fine,” I placated with more confidence than I felt. Opening our ongoing text string, I shot Langston a quick message for him to call me and set the phone down, face up, to know immediately when he responded. “Langston can handle himself. I’m sure he’s busy updating Hudson or something like that.”
No longer focused on the night’s plans, hoping to see Langston’s picture flash on the phone screen, we stopped watching the door and monitoring who entered. Which had to be how Eric and Stephanie came in and weaved through the tables with us completely oblivious until they appeared next to Juno.
