“I really am. Though, you may change your mind in a minute.”
“Why? What’s wrong?” Still chewing, I set my pastry on a napkin and headed back into my bedroom, where I pulled on last night’s jeans without bothering to close the door. I was not Tucker’s type.
He’d never actuallysaidhe had a guy up north, but he always volunteered for the Kentucky leg of the enforcer check-in, so I’d drawn my own conclusion.
I was still tugging a clean tee into place over a fresh bra when I rejoined him at the short breakfast bar.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he assured me. “But nothing’s particularly right, either. I dug into Nolan Blake’s finances this morning, and it turns out hedoeshave another bank account. It’s more than a decade old and has never had a balance above five thousand dollars.”
“Do I want to know how you got access?”
“Probably not.”
“Fair enough. His apartment?”
“I stopped by on my way here and did a search. Which would have been much easier if he lived in Pine Cove.”
“Nosy neighbors?”
“Probably.” Tucker set Nolan’s keys on the counter. “Want me to return these?”
“I’ll do it. What’d you find?”
“Nothing, other than an embarrassing collection of porn.”
“Embarrassing, how?”
“The man still watches DVDs. And his taste is super straight and boring.”
I laughed as I bit into my Danish. “Nothing else?” I asked with my mouth full.
“Nope. No other scents. If he’s ever had company, I couldn’t tell it. He had fifty bucks in ones and tens hidden in the freezer—idiot—but no other cash. Nothing suspicious on his hard drive. Not even anything interesting. Either he works very hard to hide criminal activity, or—”
“Or he hasn’t committed any.”
“Exactly. You go through his phone?”
“Yeah.” I licked Danish glaze from my fingers. “Most of his incoming calls look like spam. He texts regularly with five or six people. One of them is his mother, and a couple are Fat Cat regulars. The others appear to be coworkers. Nothing suspicious in any of the texts. Nor in his photos, including the recently deleted, but notreallydeleted category. You print out his bank statements?”
“Yeah, along with his one credit card. I’ll go through them in detail today, but at a glance, there’s nothing there. No storage units. No large expenses. No recurring payments, other than utilities and rent. If he has a second phone, it’s a burner—nothing he pays monthly.”
“So, no sign that he’s in debt or desperate for money. I don’t think it’s him,” I said.
“I don’t either.” Tucker reached into the grease-stained bag and pulled out a bear claw. “Which means—”
“We need to explore other options. Other suspects.”
“But first, let me recommend a shower.”
“Yup. As soon as I finish my coffee.” I took another long sip.
He nodded. “Hear anything from the husband or brother this morning?”
“No, but they’ll be here in an hour, and I promised them lunch. Feel like flipping burgers?”
“No, but I’m not going to leave you alone with them.”
I rolled my eyes. “I can handle myself.”
