After a quick shower and another shot of caffeine, he grabbed his keys.
He’d swing by the site. Even though the cameras were up, just keeping an unexpected, unannounced presence could keep people cautious. Not that they had a bunch of lookie-loos wandering around. It wasn’t that kind of neighborhood, but one never knew.
Later, he was meeting Chase, Colt, and Titus downtown to have a drink at the Thirsty Cock.
By the time Finn pulled up to the site, the sun was high in the sky and the air thick with humidity, enveloping him like a wet blanket. Sweat trickled down his back as he slammed the truck door shut. Heat shimmered off the pavement in visible waves.
He stood there for a moment, scanning the area. The street was quiet. As it should be on a Sunday. But then again, after the vandalism, what should be normal, safe, wasn’t.
Finn made his way past the bakery. It was locked up tight. Lainey’s office was dark. He moved toward the storage sheds when something shifted in the corner of his vision.
Travis.
The guy was crouched beside one of the sheds, half-hidden behind a stack of boards, his back hunched, rummaging for something. Looked like he didn’t want to be seen.
“Morning,” Finn called out.
Travis startled and stood quickly, wiping his hands on a rag. “Hey. Just grabbing something I forgot the other day. Need it at home.”
Finn walked closer, casual but not crowding. “Tool?”
“Yeah. Socket set. Thought I’d get it yesterday, but…” He trailed off with a shrug. “Didn’t want it walking off, you know?”
Finn nodded. He did know. A missing tool could be just that. Or not.
Travis looked rough, tired. But it was the way Travis avoided eye contact that set off a tiny alarm.
“You hear any more?” Finn asked casually. “Anyone talking?”
Travis hesitated, glanced toward the street, then back. “Not really. Whispers. Everyone’s a little spooked.”
Finn nodded again. “Well, if you remember anything that doesn’t sit right, call me. “
“Will do.” Travis didn’t linger. He hurried to his truck, yanked the door open, and peeled away without looking back.
Finn watched the taillights disappear and blew out a breath. He did another perimeter loop. Everything looked quiet, normal, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still brewing.
The Thirsty Cockwas quieter than usual when he arrived. A few regulars were nursing drinks at the long wooden bar. The bartender gave Finn a nod before turning back to polish glasses.
Country music played low from the corner speakers, and the air smelled faintly of stale beer. The bar was popular on a Saturday night but on Sunday, not so much.
He’d been here several times before and liked it. The gold tin patterned ceiling cast a warm glow of light across the wooden bar, which stretched the length of the room. One wall showcased an impressive array of bottles, and the opposite wall was lined with deep leather booths.
He spotted the guys in the far booth, walked over, and slid into the booth beside Titus, the leather seat squeaking under him. A half-empty glass of beer was pushed toward him.
“Haven’t seen you in a while,” he said. “How’s the gym?”
Titus Finch owned PushYourLimits Gym not far from here. The guys in the Brotherhood all had memberships.
“Busy as ever.” Titus grinned.
“And Emilia?”
“Feeling better. She’s doing too much, as usual.” He shook his head and took a sip of beer. “Her online presence is growing, the baking classes are filling up, and she still caters occasionally. Now she’s decided Leo needed a friend. So we got another shelter dog.” Titus groaned. “It’s like having two toddlers running around.”
Finn laughed, nearly snorting his beer picturing Titus with two dogs running around.
It wasn’t that long ago that Emilia owned Lilypad Confections, the best bakery in town, down the alley from Titus’s gym. She had been targeted by the former owner’s son, who paid an employee to harass her. Titus and the Brotherhood had rescued her. Just like she’d found and rescued Leo, the mutt, as a stray. Now she and Titus and the two mutts were together and happily living outside town.
