If I hadn’t known what I knew about him and his dad, and if I hadn’t just toured Dak’s hot tub–less cabin on Cross Lake, I might have been tempted to slip naked into Ty’s therapeutic waters, but as pretty as the package was, the box could hold dog shit. And honestly, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to unwrap him and find out. At this point, I had soured on a guy who was even related to a douche who could do something like his father was doing. “Sounds heavenly, but I have a quiz tomorrow. I have to study.”
“Oh, come on. You can study at my place.” He gave me another sexy smile that should have worked. It damned sure would have on that sorority hussy who nearly mounted his leg at the gala. Couldn’t remember her name, but I remembered the way she’d looked like she wanted to rip out my throat and then put her monogram on his towels.
“I’m pretty sure my notes won’t survive a hot tub,” I said, with teasing in my voice.
“Come on, beautiful. I’ve been dreaming of all the ways I’m going to make you scream my name.” He looked dead serious about that.
“Wow. You’re very confident, aren’t you?” I said, picking up the glass and gulping the last of my wine. He was kind of creeping me out, the way he had when we first met. But I knew how to handle douchey guys. Growing up with all male cousins meant I knew how to fight dirty if it came down to it.
Ty smiled. “Nothing wrong with being confident.”
“Touché.” I pushed back the stool. “But I must have priorities, and school trumps hot-tubbing and screaming names.”
“Not if I do it right.”
That made me laugh. “You are confident.”
“Don’t you like that in a man?” he teased.
“Only when he can actually deliver the goods. So I might regret spending the next few hours with my books instead of finding out what kind of delivery guy you are, but I’ll take that chance.”
“You’re killing me, you know,” he said, tossing a twenty on the counter and stepping back so I could slide past him.
“Yes, I know,” I said with a smile, enjoying the repartee even as I knew this was likely our last date. My gran used to say, “Always leave them wanting more,” and I’d never really embraced that idea. But it seemed apropos for this situation. I liked the tiny bit of power I held over this particular guy. Maybe because I didn’t seem to hold that same power over Dak. With him, it was flip-flopped, and he seemed to be able to pull some strings that made me dance despite my best intentions. But I didn’t want to think about my messed-up feelings for Dak. I did indeed have a test tomorrow. And a check for eighty grand staring at me from my bill stack. And a ringing phone. We stepped out into the sticky night, and I pulled my cell phone from my crossbody.
“Hello,” I said, motioning to Ty that I had to take the call. He held up a hand and started in the opposite direction from where my car was parked.
I really shouldn’t have allowed him to think I was still into him. But then again, it could come in handy if I needed him to help Cricket. I was hedging my bets.
“I need help,” Cricket said into my ear.
“You got it,” I said, meaning that. I held my hand over the microphone and called to Ty. “Bye. Thanks!”
“Wait. Are you busy?” Cricket asked.
“Not really. I just finished having drinks with Ty Walker.”
“You’re still seeing him? You know—”
“I know. But I wanted to keep an eye on him.” I climbed into the car and started the engine. “What’s up? What do you need help with?”
“I don’t know if I need help. All I know is that I can’t do any of this anymore.”
“Any of what?”
“Trying to outsmart Scott. I can’t do it. I’m pulling the plug and going to the police. I’m not going to worry about the money.”
Only really rich people could say things like that. Probably because Cricket had more money in more places than she could count. That’s how the wealthy were. People like me, not so much. We robbed Peter, paid Paul, and hid from Louie. “So you’re letting Scott win?”
“You don’t understand—it’s no longer a game. Julia Kate came home today with an envelope for her father, and it changed everything.”
I pulled out of the lot and wondered if I needed to go to Cricket’s house. I had never been there, which seemed weird, considering we were clandestine partners in righting the wrongs that a certain male had perpetrated against a happy blonde who owned an antique store. But my business calculus test was important, and surely this was something I could handle tomorrow morning. “So what are we dealing with?”
“Well, of course, I opened the envelope, because I’m investigating him, you know. So at first, I thought I would steam it open. You know I have that detective book, and learning how to open letters and stuff without getting caught was actually in there. But then as soon as the steam started going—”
I sighed because this was how Cricket told stories. Took her forever. She wasn’t one for getting to the point quickly.
“I realized that it was so stupid to try and open it without him knowing. It was a plain clasped envelope, and all I had to—”
Turning the radio down, I hooked a left to my street as Cricket prattled about envelopes and me writing Scott’s name. But when she got to the actual contents, I felt my heart drop. “Wait, there were pictures of Julia Kate? Like a warning or something?”
“Yes, they were pictures from her everyday life taken in the last few days. And I think it has to be directed to Scott. This Donner guy is bad news. He wears fancy suits and donates money to charity, but I think Scott is in over his head, and so am I. I can’t worry about the money right now. I have my own accounts, the store, and a lawyer who will help me sort through a mess if Scott gets in trouble for whatever the hell he’s involved in. I have to just stop fooling around with disguises and playing at being a PI. We gotta tell someone what Donner and Scott are up to.”
“But you’ll be letting him get away with it. What if he takes off with the tennis slut before the authorities can do anything about it?”
“I read somewhere you weren’t supposed to call women ‘sluts’ anymore.” Cricket sounded like she was reading a guide on how to navigate the social-justice Olympics.
“Cricket, she stole your husband and potentially your entire IRA—you can call her whatever the fuck you want to. There’s no justification for what she’s done. Yeah, Scott’s a shit, but she doesn’t get automatic absolution because she doesn’t have testicles.”
“Ruby.”
“What? I’m serious. Slut shaming is the least of your worries.”
Silence on the end of the line.
I continued, getting warmed up, my mind tripping over itself to figure out how we could right wrongs and make that scumbag pay. “Okay, I have to think. You can’t let him win, Cricket. I understand what you’re saying. That it feels, um, hotter in the henhouse, but we’re going to make him give you that money back. Don’t do anything yet. Let me do some research. What time is your appointment with the attorney tomorrow?”
“Two in the afternoon.”
“I have a test in the morning. Jade is working until two tomorrow, so if it’s okay, I won’t go in until after we figure things out. Let’s meet at Juke’s office at noon. I’m going to ask Griff to come, too.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s tough and he’s smart. And I think he has the hots for you.”
“What? No. Griffin doesn’t even like me.” She sounded shocked and maybe something else . . . pleased?
“Yeah, he does.”
“But I’m married.”