He'd also liked the beat before she took the notebook—that single unguarded moment where she'd looked at it and then at him, like she was equally irritated and impressed that he’d connected the dots so quickly.
More importantly, she’d seemed equally—if reluctantly—intrigued with him as well. At least, that was what he was telling himself.
He'd given her the pub as a way out that didn't require commitment, which was the right move. His gut told him she wasn't a woman to be pushed. She needed options and the chance to make her own decisions.
She’d show. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually.
And he’d be waiting for her when she did.
Declan wasat the kitchen table looking like he’d just rolled out of bed when Patrick came in. He probably had, given that he'd worked a closing shift at Angels the night before. He looked up from his phone when the door opened.
“You hear about the body at the campground?” Declan asked by way of greeting.
“Yep. Hot topic at the pub this week.”
“Angels, too. Lot of questions and no answers,” Declan said. “The police aren’t saying much.”
“No, they’re not,” Patrick agreed.
“Because they don’t know what happened, or because they do and they don’t want it to get out?”
“That’s the question—or at least one of them.”
They pondered that for a moment before Declan said, “Is this something we need to worry about? Kyle and Lina’s cabin is on the other side of that lake, you know.”
“I know, and I don’t think so. This doesn’t feel random.”
“Agreed. So… what are we going to do about this?”
That “we” was the reason Patrick had gone to Declan first with the idea of a PI/security firm. His cousin was smart, solid, and as committed to keeping their small-town valley community safe and protected as he was.
“I've been doing some digging.”
The corner of Declan’s mouth moved—not quite a smile, but close. “Yeah, figured as much. Riley too?”
“Yeah.”
“Find anything useful?”
“Nothing solid yet. I did go out to the campground to take a look around.”
“And?”
Patrick set his glass in the sink, thinking about Morgan’s notes and his own observations. “If there was any useful evidence, it’s gone now.”
“No surprise there,” Declan muttered. “I’ll reach out to some friends, see if they’ve heard anything.”
Declan had a lot of useful friends—on both sides of the law.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
Patrick enteredthe pub's private back entrance thirty minutes before his shift with the intention of catching Riley up to speed. His aunt Taryn looked over from the pot she was stirring on the stove and grinned. He liked all of his aunts, but Taryn was his favorite. She was badass and had great taste in music. Today she was wearing a vintage Warrant t-shirt, and 80s metal was playing in the background, as usual.
“Hey, Patrick. Did you eat dinner yet?”
“Not yet.”