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Dax dropped the wrench and swore. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s obviously the Timberline Trio.”
“Obviously? How’d you get that out of three stick figures?”
“Holding hands?”
“Maybe it’s supposed to be like a threesome or something—I told you, something obscene, although...”
Jim kicked his brother’s booted foot. “It wasn’t supposed to be a threesome, Dax. It was a representation of the Timberline Trio.”
“Bro, you’re obsessed with that case.” Dax threw his ponytail over his shoulder.
“You know why I am.” Jim picked up the wrench and tossed it from hand to hand. “What do you know about that night? The night someone tried to abduct me?”
“I don’t know nothin’, J.T. I was sleeping, remember?”
“What are you doing in Timberline, Dax?” Jim rose to his feet and crossed his arms over his chest as he loomed over his brother.
“This is gettin’ old. If you don’t want me to have any of Slick’s bikes, just say so.”
“It’s not about the...forget it.” Jim dropped the wrench onto the ground and went to the house.
Dax had tried to cover it, but he’d been rattled when Jim told him about the stick figures. Why?
The sudden appearance of Rusty, Chewy and Dax meant something, and Jim had a sick feeling that their presence in Timberline was related to the fire at Scarlett’s.
Jim cleaned up the rest of the breakfast dishes and went into the bedroom for his laundry basket. He fingered the T-shirt Scarlett had folded on top of his bed and then pressed it to his face.
The sweet, clean scent triggered all kinds of memories of the early morning hours he’d spent with her. He tossed the shirt into the basket. He couldn’t believe he’d had that woman in his bed, right beside him and had been able to resist her.
Not that falling asleep next to her warm, soft body had been easy. He’d felt every breath from her parted lips, every shift in movement, every touch as her hand or leg brushed against his body.
It had been torture.
He threw his laundry in the washer and wandered back outside to help his brother, who eyed him with suspicion.
Jim held up his hands. “No more questions. I’m just here to help you.”
The brothers worked side by side for over an hour until a call from Scarlett came through on Jim’s cell phone. He wiped his hands on the rag and answered the call.
“What’s up, Scarlett?” He ignored Dax’s raised eyebrows.
“I’m picking up a phone today and my service should be turned on by tomorrow. I also got two estimates from a couple of landscapers, and I’m going with the one my cousin Jason knows. Are you ready?”
“I’ve been helping Dax work on a bike. I need to shower and change. Do you want to go over on my motorcycle?”
“Sure. My car is filthy from the fire.”
“I’ll be kind of conspicuous on the bike. Are you sure you don’t want to keep my visit a secret?”
“Kind of hard to keep a guy your size a secret.”
“Let’s just try not to draw attention to ourselves. Nobody needs to know why we’re there.”
“I have every right to visit Granny and bring an old high school friend. Is a half an hour enough time for you?”
“Sure. Tell you what. You bring your dirty car over here and I’ll have Dax wash it for you.”
“If you think he won’t mind.”
Jim watched his brother through narrowed eyes. “He likes anything having to do with cars. Bring it over.”
Scarlett ended the call, and Jim tucked his phone into his front pocket.
“Hot date?” Dax pushed a lock of hair from his forehead with a dirty thumb, leaving a smudge of grease.
“We’re going to the reservation.”
Dax narrowed his eyes. “What for?”
“Scarlett is going to drop off something for her grandmother.”
“And she needs your help, why?”
“She just wants the company.” If Dax could be closemouthed about his motivations, so could he. He’d told his brother plenty and had gotten nothing in return. “You mind washing her car if she leaves it here?”
