The vision of her standing in the middle of a sea of shoes flashed through his mind. Would she buy those things if she couldn’t afford them? He’d been joking before about her addiction...but maybe it was real?
He, better than most, realized that people were masters at showing the world exactly what they wanted everyone to see. At hiding the dark and ugly pieces.
Could the information Tucker had shared with him Monday been a misdirection? At the time, her willingness to give him a glimpse into the inner workings of the Rose had meant so much, because he knew how important the bar was to her. Now...
Wyatt shifted uncomfortably, cutting his gaze over to Finn, a deep frown digging grooves around his mouth. “I know she ran into some unexpected issues renovating this building. Spent more than she’d planned to open the place. And then a couple months ago, the refrigerator busted. Leaked all over, ruined the floor. Both had to be replaced. There’s no telling how much that cost her.
“I’ve spent enough time around bars to know the Rose is doing okay, but she was skating thin already...I’m just worried. And you know she won’t let anyone help.”
Wyatt’s words soured the beer in Finn’s belly.
“I didn’t tell you this to dump the problem in your lap,” Wyatt said, cutting him a somber glance. “I genuinely care about her. And you guys seem to have gotten close awfully fast. Just...keep an eye on her, yeah?”
Pushing away from the bar, Wyatt walked away, leaving Finn’s head spinning with unhappy thoughts.
Simmons had pulled financial information on Tucker when they’d decided to use the Rose. Nothing suspicious had come up. But, Finn realized that didn’t necessarily mean it wasn’t there. It looked like they needed to dig a little deeper.
Maybe Wyatt was lying? But what motive did he have for that?
Finn didn’t have any of the answers right now, which only made the restlessness he’d been fighting worse.
But at least there was something he could mark off the list right now.
Dade’s earlier question rang through his head. With all the time Duchess had spent at the Rose, there was one room she hadn’t actually entered.
Tucker’s office.
13
GOD, SHE HAD a headache.
Leaning over, Tucker dropped her head into her hands and dug her fingers into both temples. Squeezing her eyes shut, she willed the pounding pressure to go away. Nothing was helping tonight.
She’d already popped a couple of aspirin and abandoned the floor, which she hated doing even on a slow night. She liked to maintain a presence, not just for her customers but her staff, as well. They needed to know she was there, ready to back them up.
Tonight, she simply couldn’t do it. The last several days—and the miniscule amount of sleep she’d been getting thanks to Finn’s ability to keep her engine revved—were catching up to her. Stress, pressure, anxiety, excitement.
The door to her office creaked open. She didn’t have to look up to know Finn was standing there, so in tune with him after such a short time that she could feel him, her body reacting to his presence on an elemental level. Which was scary as hell in its own right.
“Surprised to find you back here. Everything okay?”
Dropping her head against the raised back of her leather executive chair, Tucker let her eyes open, wincing at the stab of pain caused by the glare from the overhead light.
“Not really. I have a hell of a headache. Already taken something, but it isn’t helping.”
Duchess slipped into the room behind him just as he closed the door. Walking around to her, Finn rested his hips against the edge of her desk. She stared up at him, unable to tamp down the thrill that shot through her body whenever he was close. He placed his wide, warm palms on either side of her head.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, digging his fingers right into the spot she’d been trying to massage a few minutes ago. With much better results than she’d been getting.
After several quiet moments, the tension in her scalp eased, a melting sensation slipping down her neck and shoulders, arms and chest.
Tucker let out a pent-up breath of relief.
The pain ratcheted down to a dull ache that was manageable. And as her discomfort faded, her awareness of him grew. The solid heat of his thigh pressed against her own leg. The way he loomed over her, taking up all the space.
He’d touched her numerous times, but not quite like this, unbelievably soothing and soft. Still, tonight for the first time she’d noticed just how large his hands were. How capable and strong.
The kind a woman could get used to depending on.
“You’re running yourself ragged, Tucker. You need to take it easy. The Rose won’t collapse without you for a few hours or, God forbid, an entire night.”
She knew he was right, but she just couldn’t seem to let loose of the reins. “I’ve poured everything I have into this place.”
His fingers stilled for several seconds before resuming their slow, rhythmic cadence across her skin.
“But taking a break only ensures you have more to pour back into it later. Why are you so driven? It isn’t healthy. Or normal, Tucker.”
She laughed, the sound carrying a rough edge to it. “Hello pot, meet kettle.”
Finn shook his head. “I know where my focus comes from, but I also recognize that balance is important.”
“Sure. What have you done for the last few days outside of this case?”
His fingers slipped from her temples, ghosting over her throat and sending a shiver that rocked through her body.
“I have other reasons for being here, Tucker. Just as important to me as this case. And you haven’t answered my question. Why the Rose? Why a bar? You have an MBA. You’re intelligent and dynamic. You could do anything you wanted.”
“Are you calling my life’s goal unworthy?”
“Not a chance. I value my life too much.” Finn chuckled, the sound warm and rich. It melted over her, like the best chocolate. She wanted to hear it again and again, mostly because she realized it was rare.
For someone who was calling her on closing herself off, Finn certainly had the same tendencies. She’d watched him over the last week, surrounded by a roomful of people—with plenty of women eyeing him—but he ignored them all.
He was content with the stool against the wall at the end of her bar. He liked to observe, process, take everything in.
“And, no, there’s nothing wrong with owning a bar. I’ve watched you and you’re amazing at running this place. It’s clear this isn’t just a job for you, but a passion.”
“So what’s your problem?”
“I worry about how you’d handle it if something happened to this place. How far would you go to keep it running?”
That was an easy question to answer. “I’d do just about anything.”
His fingers, stroking softly across her skin, stilled. For several strong heartbeats, his gaze drilled into hers. She fought against the innate need to look away, protect herself. It was a little late for that.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he finally said, the words soft and low.
She didn’t understand what he meant, but something told her the statement went much deeper than it appeared. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t pull that bullshit. You didn’t mean nothing.”
Finn’s lips parted. But before he could say what he was thinking, Duchess’s loud, deep bark burst through the room.
Tucker jumped. Not only had she forgotten the dog was there, the only time she’d heard her make much of any noise was the night she’d found the drugs beneath the table.
Finn, however, didn’t even flinch. Instead, his hands, resting on her shoulders, tightened for several seconds, t
o the point that Tucker nearly winced. His jaw snapped shut and a hard line bracketed either side of his mouth.
Those deep green eyes, which had the ability to slay her with nothing but a flicker, turned sharp and cold.
Leaning backward, Finn peered at the floor on the other side of her desk.
“Good girl,” he murmured, giving a sharp hand signal that had Duchess dropping back into silence as suddenly as the barking had started.
Finn stood. Grasping Tucker’s shoulders, he pulled her up with him. Leading her in front of him, he crossed the room to the far wall. Duchess had dropped to the floor, right in front of the built-in safe.
“What’s inside there, Tucker?”
“Money, contracts, the mortgage paperwork for the bar and my house. You know, the kind of things most people put inside a safe.”
He nodded, his face grim and determined. Harsh.
Tucker swallowed. For some reason the backs of her eyes burned.
“Open it.”
It wasn’t a question. It was an order. Some instinct made her want to deny him simply because she could and it bothered her that he felt the need to issue edicts. If he’d asked nicely she would have done it without a second thought.
But the expression on his face told her this was not the time to make a stand on principle.
Reaching up to the keypad, she pressed the numbers by memory, not even caring he could be memorizing them. The lock disengaged with a pop. Gripping the handle, she pulled the door open.
And stood there, stunned.
Inside was a gallon-sized plastic bag, rolled up, containing an obscene amount of meth. Beside that were at least twenty small baggies with what were intended to be individual portions. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the two bricks of cash sitting beside the drugs had her eyes bugging out of her head.
“How the hell did that get in there?”
“I don’t know, Tucker. You tell me.”
She tried to back away, her entire world suddenly feeling so...wrong. Like somewhere in the last hour she’d slipped down Alice’s rabbit hole to find herself in an alternate universe.
This couldn’t be real.
But there was nowhere for her to go. Her back hit the solid wall of Finn’s chest.
She spun around. He let her, but didn’t take his hands off her. As if he was afraid she might try to break for the door.
“Dammit, someone broke into my safe.”
“And left you drugs and money? I find that hard to believe.”
“I don’t care what you believe.” But she did. Oh, God, she did.
Swallowing hard, Tucker fought down the torrent of words that wanted to gush out. Protestations of her innocence, because she was really afraid they wouldn’t matter.
God, the disgust that clouded Finn’s gaze cut straight through her. Her chest ached. No, her entire body throbbed with the pain of that expression.
“You’ve been playing me the entire time, haven’t you? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer? The reason we haven’t been able to find anything over the last few days was because you were fully aware we were looking. You tried to keep Duchess out of the bar, and then away from back here when you realized that wouldn’t work. How long were you going to let it go on, Tucker?”
He finally released her, taking several large steps backward and running his hands through his hair, tugging at the short strands.
“I have to give it to you. If nothing else, you’re dedicated. But then, that’s just who you are, isn’t it? You’re the woman who will give absolutely anything to make this place work. Including sleeping with the guy intent on exposing you. Isn’t that what you said only a few minutes ago?”
“No. That isn’t...” Tucker’s voice trailed off. “I didn’t mean it that way,” she whispered.
“Oh, I know. But only because you thought you were going to get away with it. I’m here to promise that you won’t.”
* * *
IT HURT TO look at her. He was so angry and disappointed. God, how could he have gotten everything so terribly wrong?
Even now, in the face of overwhelming evidence, he couldn’t quite kill the hope that Tucker was innocent. But it was difficult to believe in her while staring at a safe full of drugs in her office.
Could she be telling the truth? Could someone have planted them?
As far as he knew, she was the only person aware that he and Duchess were here to catch a drug dealer, and up until right now there’d been no action for days. A little too convenient.
God, he wanted to believe her...but he couldn’t. He couldn’t allow himself to look past the obvious and let someone else get hurt. Not again.
The expression on Tucker’s face, full of agony, cut straight through him. He didn’t doubt she truly felt it. But that wasn’t going to change what he had to do.
He’d spent his entire adult career fighting to keep meth off the streets and away from people like his sister. It physically hurt to realize the woman he’d fallen in love with was part of the problem.
Pulling his cell out of his pocket, Finn punched in Dade’s number.
“What are you doing?” Tucker asked.
Running a hand over his face, Finn positioned himself in front of the door. If Tucker tried to run she’d have to go through him and Duchess first. “Calling Dade to come and pick you up.”
“What?” The incredulity in her tone had the anger beating back the disappointment. Had she really expected he’d let his attachment to her sway him from doing the right thing?
“You’re dealing drugs, Tucker. What did you expect me to do when I found out?”
“Please listen to me, Finn,” she said, grasping for his hand. He just pulled it out of her reach and placed the call on speaker, instead. “Those drugs are not mine.”
Even in the face of overwhelming evidence against her, she was still arguing her innocence. And maybe that’s what hurt the most. If she’d told him she was sorry. Asked for his help. Admitted what she’d done—and why—he might have been able to deal with it. Help her.
Instead, she stood there, bags of meth practically spilling out of the open safe behind her, and continued to try and convince him.
“Do you really think I’m that gullible and stupid?”
“Dade.”
“Man, you and Simmons need to get over here now. I found a stash of drugs in Tucker’s safe. Duchess and I have her confined to the office.”
“Those are not my drugs,” she said again, her voice low and even. “Dade, you have to believe me.”
“On our way,” was Dade’s only response before the line went dead.
God, this was a complete mess. “Look, Tucker. Call your attorney and have him meet you at the station. It’s possible he can get bail set quickly so you’ll only be in there a couple hours. Explain to him how you got dragged into this mess and maybe he’ll be able to get you a plea deal. Whatever you do, don’t lie to the court.”
Her eyes flashed, brilliant with anger and pain. “You’re not listening to me.”
“No, I’m listening. I’m just not buying the lies anymore.”
“I. Am. Not. Lying. Those aren’t my drugs, Finn, and if you let them charge me with this no one will be looking for the person who’s really dealing. The person who evidently set me up.”
He watched a whirlwind of emotions flood her face, so tangled up he couldn’t have pulled them apart if he’d wanted to. She moved restlessly, pacing the room, although she never even made an attempt for the door.
She hit the far side of the tiny room. Her head jerked up and she snatched a teddy bear he hadn’t noticed off the top of a book shelf tucked into the corner.
Crossing the room, she slammed it against his chest.
“What are you doing?” he asked, holding hi
s hands back and refusing to take whatever she was trying to give him. Did she have another stash of drugs in there?
“After the break-in I called a friend who’s a PI. He gave me several hidden cameras to place around the bar. There’s one in that teddy bear. Take it. Watch it. I have no idea who’s doing this, but it isn’t me.”
Finn stared at her, a sick mixture of emotions churning through his belly—hope, fear, disappointment. It scared him how much he wanted her words to be true. Was he deluding himself?
Maybe, but either way it was worth a few minutes of his time.
Nodding, he clutched the bear in his fist.
A few minutes later, Dade and Simmons walked into the office, grim expressions on both their faces.
Finn simply pointed to the open safe. Dade crossed the room, placed a hand on Tucker’s shoulder and turned her. Grasping both of her wrists, the metallic click of cuffs closing around them echoed loudly through the room.
“Kentucky Blackburn, you’re under arrest for possession with the intent to sell.” He continued to read her the Miranda rights and when he asked her if she understood them her only comment was, “You’re making a big mistake.”
“That’s what they all say,” Simmons murmured, clearly unhappy with this turn of events.
Shaking her head, Tucker stared at him for several seconds, her gaze in complete turmoil...and then it just blanked out. And the woman he’d first met stood in front of him again. The detached owner of the bar. The woman who never let anyone in because everyone either left or failed her.
And that hurt almost more than realizing she wasn’t the woman he’d thought.
Without another word, Dade and Simmons led Tucker from the room. The bar was silent as they walked her through the place. Finn trailed silently behind them, taking in the phones pointed in her direction, no doubt taking videos and pictures, posting to every social media site.
The fact that the owner of the Kentucky Rose had been arrested and led out in handcuffs would be all over town before Dade and Simmons even got her booked at the station.
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