Good Girls Don't

by Victoria Dahl

  “I’m beginning to think we might need to hire a full-time marketing person,” he said.

  “Really?”

  “The ad agency is great for promotional stuff, but they can’t do the shows personally, and Jamie and I are getting spread thin. I’ve got Santa Fe this weekend, and he’s got Durango in two weeks.”

  Tessa felt her fingers curl around the arms of her chair. “I could help.”

  “No, we need more than that.”

  He wanted to hire another full-time person? Where would they work?

  “And if we’re going to start adding new states every year, we’ll probably need a dedicated distribution person. And more bottling space.”

  Tessa shook her head, speechless. They didn’t have room for all this. “Eric, those are big plans.”

  He waved a distracted hand. “Yeah, I know. I’m just thinking ahead. We’ll work it all out. Thanks for the heads-up on High West.”

  “Sure,” she whispered, getting up to move slowly back to her office. She’d known he wanted to expand, but somehow she hadn’t really considered what that might mean. They’d grown a lot in the past few years, but the adjustments had been so gradual that it had felt natural. Normal. But this… She hadn’t thought about this. If they started adding multiple states at the same time… If they started growing exponentially…

  She’d been trying to keep things from changing, but what if everything changed? What if she’d helped bring about her own worst fears? She didn’t like change. Not at all. Apparently, even less than Eric did.

  Trying to ignore this new fear, Tessa put her head down and made herself see to her normal brewery duties. She paid invoices, issued her own and painstakingly worked her way through yet another change of coverage notice from their insurance company. She found a new review of their amber ale and tweeted a link to it, then updated the website. An email about a delay of a barley shipment probably wouldn’t affect production, but she forwarded it to Eric and Jamie just in case.

  Fifty other things managed to fill up most of her day, but it didn’t clear her mind. In the end, she still picked up the phone to call Jamie, trying not to feel guilty for disturbing him on his day off.

  “What’s wrong?” he answered, his voice hoarse and sleepy.

  “I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?”

  “No. What’s going on?”

  “Has Eric talked to you about his plans for expanding the business?”

  “We’ve discussed it.”

  “He wants to hire more people, add more bottling space. Where are we going to get more bottling space? This lot is barely big enough for the parking lot as it is.”

  Jamie cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

  “We can’t move! This is our brewery. It was Dad’s brewery.”

  He stayed silent, but the shushing sound of fabric told her he was getting out of bed.

  “I’m sorry. Are you alone? I don’t want to—”

  “Look,” he snapped. “I thought you were determined to give Eric everything he wanted. Why are you spooked now?”

  “I’m not doing this for Eric! I’m doing it for us. All of us!”

  “Tessa.” He sighed. She heard a door open on Jamie’s side of the line, then the faint brightness of birdsong. She pictured him outside on his deck, looking out over his yard. She hoped he’d put pants on. “What the heck’s going on with you?” he finally asked.

  “Nothing! I just don’t want you two fighting! And I don’t want to move. And I don’t want five new people taking over our offices. Things are fine the way they are.”

  “Are they?”

  Her heart dropped so quickly she put a hand flat to her desk to steady herself. When her pulse found its way back to her chest, it beat so hard that it invaded her throat and her skull. Oh, God.

  “I can’t go on just being the bartender for the rest of my life. Is that what you want for me?”

  “No! Of course not. Eric wants to hire someone to do distribution full-time. Maybe you could take on more of that, and we’ll hire another bartender.”

  “Maybe,” he said.

  Tessa rubbed her eyes. “Do you think we should be making this move with High West?”

  “You’re asking me this now?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re going to give me a damned ulcer.” She heard him collapse into one of his deck chairs, and Tessa held her breath. “No, I don’t think we should be involved with these people. I don’t like them. But Eric wanted it, so you wanted it. What was I supposed to do?”

  Tessa gasped. “Did you sabotage the deal by sleeping with Monica?”

  “That is not what happened,” he ground out.

  “All ri—”

  “I don’t sleep with women to… I’d never… Jesus.”

  “I’m sorry. Really. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  His breath left him on a long hiss. “This has become crazy, Tessa. All of it. I should’ve taken my knocks. We should’ve let this deal go. I don’t like these people. Any of them.”

  “It’s not final yet,” she whispered.

  “He’s got the contract. It’s done. We’ll deal with it.”

  “Yeah,” she murmured.

  “It’ll be okay, sis. Don’t worry.”

  Tessa agreed, but she couldn’t shake her bad feeling. And a few minutes later, her bad feeling became even more justified.

  Henry knocked on Tessa’s door. “There’s a guy in the barroom to see you. Says his name is Graham.”

  She popped up so quickly that Henry jerked back. Good thing or she would’ve had to push him out of the way when she rushed past. Eric’s door was closed, thank God.

  “Graham,” she whispered as she approached him. “What are you doing here?”

  He had his hands stuffed in his pockets and was looking over the barroom with condescending good cheer. “I like your place. Very homey.”

  “Thanks. But what can I do for you?”

  “I sent you another email.”

  “I know. I’m sorry I didn’t have time to respond. I’m afraid the answer is still no. We can’t afford that kind of sponsorship, and even if we could, we’d need more time.”

  “You’re making a big mistake. There won’t be another tournament for a whole year, and in the meantime, you’re going to miss out on all that networking, all those possibilities….”

  “I know, but—”

  “Is your brother Eric here?”

  She stepped back. “Why?”

  “Because I thought he might be interested in what I have to say.” This time his smile wasn’t the least bit fake. It was slimy with self-satisfaction and bright with threat.

  Tessa’s heart beat a hundred miles an hour. “No,” she said, willing herself not to glance toward the door. “He’s not here. He’s prepping for a show in Santa Fe.”

  “Too bad. Maybe I’ll try again later.”

  He walked out, whistling a perfect rendition of “Happy Talk” as he sauntered through the door. Tessa could only stand frozen with horrified shock. He’d threatened her, hadn’t he? What kind of charity tournament was this?

  Jamie had been right. These people were bad news. All of them. As soon as she could force her feet to move, she walked back to her office and called her attorney. “If I back out of this deal now, would there be any legal repercussions?”

  “Thank God,” he murmured, then cleared his throat and carried on. “The only possibility is that Kendall could claim he passed up another opportunity on the basis of your promised deal. But as you’re only supplying a product, and he could go with another vendor at any time, his case wouldn’t have merit.”

  “Good. Don’t do anything right now, okay? I need some time to think.” And plan. And maybe cry a little.

  “IT’S ONE DAMN fingerprint,” Luke grouched at the technician.

  “Yeah, well, you’re one detective among thirty. Get in line.”

  Luke set his head against the doorjamb and banged it a couple of times. “Okay, I’m sorry.
Can you give me the status?”

  “It’s dusted and scanned and the computer is working on it right now. It could be a few minutes. It could be an hour.”

  “Why didn’t you say that first?” he growled as he turned and stalked out. “I’ll be at my desk,” he tossed over his shoulder. “Waiting.” He’d sent a team out to sweep the area behind the fence and they’d come up with a few more scraps of trash, but he was focused on the cigarette package. It was an empty packet of Dunhills. Not the most common brand. Dunhill was a high-end English brand, and whoever had bought the pack must have purchased them in a smoke shop, not a grocery store. An odd piece of trash to find next to the lonely curb of a dead-end street.

  But if someone had pulled up to the curb and opened the back door of an SUV to load up stolen goods… Even the lightest breeze could’ve blown that empty pack out of the truck.

  Ah, crap, it was a long shot, but what the hell. Maybe he’d get a hit on someone with a record. Maybe the guy’s mug shot would come up with Criminal Mastermind Leader stamped across it.

  He chuckled, thinking that Tessa would love that.

  “Did you get a hit?” Simone asked as he dropped into his desk chair. “Nothing yet.”

  “So why do you look so happy?”

  He glanced up in surprise. “What?”

  “You’re walking around here with a smile on your face, Asher. It’s freaking everybody out.”

  He stole a glance around the room, but no one was even breathing in his direction. Simone winked. “Gotcha.”

  “You’re funny. Speaking of, what are you so happy about?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, surprising him. He hadn’t expected an answer. “I feel better. Not so lost somehow.”

  Luke sat up straighter in his chair. “Really? That’s great.”

  Her eyes slid down, and he realized she was holding something.

  “What’s that?”

  “Nothing,” she said, but when she slipped the small square back into her desk, he recognized it as one of the ultrasound pictures he’d found the other night. “It’s a girl,” she said softly.

  He felt his eyebrows climb.

  “The baby,” she clarified, as if he might have no idea what she was talking about. “I’ve decided I’m really happy about that. That’s less complicated, I think. Easier for me.”

  “Because the dad won’t be around?” he ventured.

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She swallowed. One of her thumbs moved slowly over the top of her belly. “It’s…not possible.”

  That could mean any number of things. Luke’s mind started turning over the possibilities, poking holes into the great mass of questions he had. But he forced his mind to step back and let it go. There was a father somewhere. Someone she loved or didn’t love. Someone she’d met once or known for years. It didn’t matter. It meant nothing. “I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he said simply.

  “Thank you.”

  A girl. Maybe Tessa would help him pick out a gift.

  “Asher,” a voice said just before a hand dropped an envelope on his desk. “Your print.”

  He was still muttering a thank-you when he ripped open the manila envelope and pulled out the paper. The name caught at him like barbed wire dragged across his mind. What the hell? He knew this name. How?

  Almost frantic, he typed in the name and pulled up everything he could find. Still confused, he tossed the paper to Simone. “You know this guy?”

  She shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Shit.”

  The guy had been processed at some point. He’d been fingerprinted, obviously, but there were no charges, just tickets. A few traffic tickets. One for drunk and disorderly years before, another ticket for possession of marijuana. Probably the guy had gone to the U. Is that why the name struck a chord?

  He tapped a pencil against his forehead for a full minute. When that didn’t shake any thoughts loose, he pulled up Google and typed in the name. And the results hit him like a freight train.

  Shit. This was serious. And he couldn’t say one word to Tessa. “I’ve got to call Denver.”

  “What is it?” Simone asked.

  “It’s a whole crapload of trouble, is what it is. And I think I know why those case files lost some of their contents.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “YOU’RE QUIET TONIGHT,” Tessa said as she pushed her fried chicken around on her plate. “Big murder investigation?”

  He managed to crack a brief smile. “Nah. I just can’t seem to shut off work.”

  “I understand. It’s hard to maintain interest after a full two weeks of dating.”

  “Sorry,” he said, making an effort to relax. He aimed a pointed glance at the one lonely drumstick on her plate. “You’re pretty quiet yourself. Tired of me?”

  “We’ll see. Maybe it’s your turn to bust out the fancy lingerie.”

  “Did those Wonder Woman panties you had on yesterday count as fancy lingerie?”

  “They seemed to do the trick for you, so they count.”

  His smile lasted a lot longer this time. “I’ll try to step up my game, then.”

  She laughed, but she still didn’t eat more.

  “Dinner was great,” he said. “Thanks for cooking for me. I’m impressed.”

  “More confirmation that I’m the perfect woman?”

  “You bet.”

  She stood and took her plate to the sink. Luke didn’t like the tense line of her shoulders, so he followed her and snuck his arms around her waist while she rinsed the plate. When he kissed her neck, she leaned into him with a sigh.

  “Are you still worried about the deal?” he asked, hoping she’d yell, Yes!

  Nodding, she turned off the water, but didn’t move away. “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered.

  Relief stabbed him like a blade, but he tried not to let it show. “I thought the deal was finalized.”

  “Not yet. I’m having second thoughts. I think I can still get out of it.”

  “Why do you want to get out of it?”

  “It’s just… The Kendall Group is a big, successful company. I think the deal could make us money. I think we could expand. But what if I don’t want to expand?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I like things the way they are.”

  He turned her around and kissed her forehead. “You know you can’t make this decision on your own. That’s a serious conversation you need to have with Eric and Jamie.”

  “I’ve already talked to Jamie. He agrees.”

  “He doesn’t want to expand?”

  “I’m not sure he cares either way, but he doesn’t like the Kendall family any more than I do.”

  Luke stepped back, his hands still on her shoulders as he watched her face. “The Kendall family?” He’d been afraid he’d have to bring this up himself.

  “Yes, Roland Kendall and his daughter and his son. There are others we haven’t met, but… At first they seemed normal. Now they all seem slimy.”

  He dropped his hands and paced across the kitchen, then back to her, trying to figure out a way to tell her something without telling her anything. “There’s one piece of advice I give to any crime victim who asks. You have to trust your gut. If you’re thinking that something is off, then something is off.”

  “Always?”

  “Every single time. I’m serious. You can’t ignore that.”

  Tessa chewed on her thumbnail. Luke ducked down to meet her gaze. “If you can back out of this deal, then do it. At least put off the decision for a few days.”

  “Okay.”

  There was that blade of relief again, gutting him open. “In fact, why don’t I do a little research for you? See if I can turn anything up.”

  Her face broke into a smile. “That would be so great. Thank you.”

  “It’s the least I can do. Just don’t make a decision until I get back to you, all right? Promi
se?”

  “Promise.” She hugged him and gave him a kiss before pulling away to grab his plate and finish cleaning. “So how’s Simone?” she asked.

  “I’m still not in love with her, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Tessa laughed. “That’s not what I was asking.”

  “She’s great, actually. She’s talking about the baby more. Doesn’t look so tired. It’s a girl, by the way. She told me today. Maybe you’ll help me buy some stuff? I don’t know anything about, uh, pink.”

  She grinned at Luke until he cleared his throat and looked away. “You’re sweet.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Do you want kids?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve never thought much about it.”

  “Not even when you were married?”

  His body turned to steel. How the hell had he stumbled into this conversation? “We were young,” he said, adding nothing else.

  “But you must have had plans. How long were you married?”

  Luke crossed his arms. “Three years.”

  Tessa crossed her own arms and glared at him. “I’m not interrogating you, Luke. You don’t have to get so defensive.”

  “I’m not defensive,” he snapped. “I just don’t like to talk about it.”

  “I hardly asked anything at all.”

  “Okay, but we both agreed there were places we weren’t ready to go.”

  “I know, but I’ve talked to you about my brothers. I just thought…”

  Oh, he couldn’t believe this. As if he didn’t have enough on his plate. “Is that the way you think it works? Tit for tat? Fine, then. You tell me about your worst breakup. Go ahead.”

  She rolled her eyes at his challenge. “I would, but I’ve never been through a bad breakup.”

  “Come on, Tessa. I’m not one of your brothers. It’s pretty clear you’ve been in relationships before.”

  “I’m not pretending I haven’t dated. I’ve dated plenty. It’s just never gotten serious.”

  He took a step back. “Really?”

  “What?” she snapped. “I’ve been busy.”

  “Doing what?”