“So, the woman in the cabin that I rented out. Hattie.” Pulling a hand over the back of my neck, I couldn’t even look at him as I started. “I’m just all twisted up over her.”
“Holy hell. You really are. Why? His brows furrowed into a frown, his whole face scrunching up as he studied me. “Explain it to me. I know you’ve got her out there for like a month, which is weird all by itself. Not to mention the fact that you aren’t out there renting those in the first place.”
“Hey,it’s hard to get past that hurdle of feeling like they’re ready.” My brothers and sisters had been on me for a while to let other people onto the property, but it wasn’t easy to explain to them how I felt. There were so many ideas and pieces I wanted to have in place first, and once I started renting them out,strangerswould see them. What if they didn’t like them? “After Hattie rented one, I went ahead and opened the rest up. It’s done now. There’s another renter coming in today.” In for a penny, in for a pound.
“Well, I’m glad you’re renting them since they’re gorgeous. You did really good with building those.” My chest tightened at the praise but shifted uncomfortably. Wade eyed me knowingly. My brother understood that while I appreciated his words, it was still tough to hear. “I’m sure the guests will have a good experience. Now, let’s talk about Hattie… what is it about her that you’re having problems with? Is it the podcast thing?”
“I guess so.” It made me feel like an asshole that it bothered me so much, or should it? I wasn’t sure. “Whenever there’s a crime scene, and you have those hangers-on, it always pisses me off. What the fuck does a podcaster even do?”
Wade gave me a look of disappointment that made me feel like I was about two feet tall. “Kipp, come on, man. You’re better than that. If you don’t know what someone does, look it up. But you know what podcasting is. Is it the same sort of job as somebody who works at the HolyPig, or a plumber, or something? No, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a job.” He gave me a considering look. “I looked her up and listened to one of her episodes.”
That piqued my interest. “Really?” I’d looked at her website, but I hadn’t really listened to one of her episodes. It surprised me that Wade had.
“Yeah, I told you she was investigating that Finch disappearance over in Briar Falls. Galloway is going to blow his fucking top when he finds out. That woman is brave as hell to go after that case, but you know what, the style you think she’s covering isn’t it at all. You should do some research before you start going on a tangent.”
Wade was right, and I’d known it all along. I could make all sorts of excuses, but if I had questions about what she did, I should have given her the courtesy of just asking her.
Digging in my heels a little, I asked stubbornly, “Don’t you think it’s a problem that she’s staying at my cabins and ‘investigating’ a case Briar Falls PD already ‘closed’?” Using air quotes made me feel like a tool, but I was already being an idiot. “I’m an officer, and I’ve got a true-crime podcaster in a cabin I own.”
He leaned back again, considering. “Depends. Is she filming dead bodies in your driveway?”
“No.”
“Digging up cold cases in your backyard?” Wade picked up a Jolly Rancher from his candy dish and unwrapped it.
“Not literally, but basically. Briar Falls is about half an hour from my place, so it’s almost like my backyard, isn’t it?” Galloway’s town wasn’t that far from my cabins or Wildwood Meadows, and there was no way that our small circles didn’t interconnect.
“I’m failing to see the emergency. It’s far enough that it shouldn’t affect anything.” His jaw tightened a little, and I could even see that Mr. Holier-Than-Thou knew that wasn’t true.
My teeth clenched in irritation. “If Hattie is bad news, you know that it’ll affect you and me. It’ll affect all of us by extension since she’s staying with a Holt.” I saw his eyes flicker. Small towns were gossip mills; there was no escaping that. “And you know what that sort of shit media does to people. The way they turn real victims into entertainment.”
“You’re not wrong about any of that, but dude, you’re making all kinds of assumptions. You don’t know that she’s bad news. That’s first off. And you don’t know that she’s out to turn victims into entertainment. I’m not going to say that some people aren’t like that, but you can’t lump all people together.”
I shook my head. “You didn’t see it when I was with OSP—the scenes after the media got hold of them.”
Wade gave me another disappointed look. “I’m not living in a box, Kipp. I’ve been there. Maybe we haven’t been on the same sorts of callouts because you worked those big cases.” He shrugged. “But I’ve seen what the media can do. Sucks pretty hard, but that still doesn’t mean they’re all the same or they’re not doing a job.”
Hell, I knew that. There were nights when we met up and shared a drink after a case that didn’t go right, and I recognized those silences where words just didn’t fit. Wade wasn’t spared from any of it because he worked in town. Then there was his time in the military. He didn’t talk about it, but I knew he’d seen and done things that still haunted him.
“There’s also the matter that she may really be right about the Briar Falls case. They dropped the whole thing like a hot potato,” he said gently. “Allison Finch didn’t get any justice. Hattie investigating it with her podcast might be the only sort of visibility Allison’s case gets.”
“It sounds like trouble to me.” The stubborn grit in my voice was unmistakable, and I could see Wade holding back a laugh. “She’snotlaw enforcement. Who even knows what kind of rules she has for herself? She could go completely off the rails.”
“Some would argue that’s exactly why Hattie’s perfect for this sort of case. Maybe sometimes we have too many rules in our jobs.”
Wade loved his rules. In a lot of ways, I thought that was one of the things he liked about the military, and now what he liked about law enforcement. There were lines that we didn’t cross in our jobs for good reason. “You’re taking her side now?”
“I’m pointing out that the way you’re reacting tells me that something else is part of this. You don’t get this riled up over something that doesn’t matter, and you’re being all weird.”
I opened my mouth to argue and stopped. Because that, too, was uncomfortably close to the truth. “It’s dangerous to be out there investigating shit without knowing what you’re doing.”
“So, she’s in danger or something?” Wade watched me, something thoughtful in his eyes. “I’m calling bullshit. Do you even know anything about how she investigates or the precautions she takes?”
I bristled, but he got me there. “I’m worried about what happens when civilians insert themselves into investigations.”
Wade gave me a pointed look. “That’s not what I asked, was it?”
Fish shifted in the corner, nails clicking softly as he came over and dropped at my feet. “She stayed up late last night,” I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “Working. Researching. I saw her light on when I took Fish out.”
