I smirked, knowing those words probably tasted like acid in her mouth. Rhea didn’t compliment anyone, especially me. “Is that a warning?”
She leaned back, stretching her legs out as if she owned the whole damn car. “Consider it a preemptive tip. But don’t worry, while you’re being that steady, sure, and unwavering support for her, I’ll be the one to take her mind off everything else.”
I glared at her, squinting slightly, and she smirked again. “Is that what she looks to you for? Distraction?”
She scoffed like the word was beneath her, “Call it what you want, Golden Boy, but she likes to forget the world exists when she’s with me. She comes to me for softness and comfort. And I’m not in any way going to tell her I’m not available when she needs that.”
I shook my head, chuckling despite myself, “You’re intense.”
“Only about things that matter,” she said, voice low and ominous. “And Goldie? She matters.”
Silence surrounded us again, but this time it waseasy. As if there had been some sort of truce laid out between us. Even if there were still barbed words thrown out for fun.
She pulled her phone out, flipping through something on her screen. “Have you ever heard of a Bakewell rep poking around the Miller property? I think it’s connected.”
“No,” I frowned. “But I got a call back from the zoning office this morning. Somebody requested early blueprints for three other buildings in town.”
Her head snapped up. “Which ones?”
“Vinyl Voyages, The Corner Store, and that empty garage off Main.”
She cursed under her breath. “All small businesses or potential development spaces. They’re picking targets.”
“We need proof.” I turned left toward the town hall. “We find that, and then we build a case. We’re trying to provezoning violations, permit fraud, and even harassment if we can document it.”
“And then?” she asked.
I smiled grimly. “We go public. And we let the town eat them alive.”
Her grin matched mine. “Nowthat’sthe cop I hoped you were.”
We spentthe next two hours digging through public permits, property sales, and submitted renovation requests. Side by side, Rhea and I scanned through every single bit of information we could find.
Turned out Bakewell had submitted four franchise filings under shell names. All within the last six months. None of the property records matched because they hid their tracks well. But not that well, because we found them.
They weren’t just opening one location across the street from Goldie. They were trying to monopolize the entire town.
At one point, Rhea looked over at me, lips pressed together. “You think this is just about Goldie anymore?”
“No,” I tapped the folder, sitting back in the chair and stretching my arms over my head. I tracked her gaze from the corner of my eye as she let it wander across my chest and arms until I sat back up straight. “But I think Goldie is the first real target. She’s the heart of the town. If she folds, maybe they think others might follow suit easier.”
I turned and stared into her dark eyes and held her gaze. That shared fire was there, burning deep. And something else, too. An understanding, perhaps, that we were both in this for Goldie,and, strangely, for each other too. And maybe my feelings had shifted over the last few weeks of building this dynamic between the three of us, because I didn’t loathe that idea.
I broke the stare off, swallowing down a whole tirade of things that felt like they should be said, and slid a paper across the table to her. “Think you can sweet-talk the county fire inspector for access to the sprinkler maintenance logs?”
She snorted, “At least make the objectives difficult if you want to entertain me.” Leaning back in her chair confidently, she went on. “He owes me two favors, three if I add on the time I helped his wife plan a getaway for their anniversary. All I need to do is make one phone call.”
I smiled, “Remind me never to owe you anything. You’re scary when you’re smug.”
“Too late,” Rhea said with a shrug. “We’re in this together now, Officer Golden Boy. Things are going to get messy eventually.”
And damn if that didn’t sound enticing.
The airoutside the station was cooler than I expected when we stepped out. We’d been at it all day long, Tanner and I working in tandem, digging through paperwork and permits, cementing the bits and pieces together.
For hours we peeled back layers of a corporate monster with perfectly clean hands. And now I was too wound up, wired after it all.
Tanner leaned against the passenger side of his SUV, flipping through the folder again like he hadn’t already memorized every line. He was back in street clothes, ditching his tac vest and uniform in the locker room when his shift ended. Even though I tried, I couldn’t help but compare the two looks on him, and I struggled to pick my favorite.