“Wait, are you really babysitting him?”
“Get paid twenty an hour.”
“Now I know you’re lying,” Georgia says. “Twenty an hour wouldn’t be enough.”
“Ahh!” I laugh hard not just because it’s funny but also because she said it in front of a group. Get it, Georgia, putting herself out there more. It’s showing.
Georgia’s face flushes; I’m sure she’s surprised at the words that came out of her mouth.
“I gave you my Banana Kicks.” Luke puts his hand over his heart, pretending to be wounded. A tentative smile forms on Georgia’s lips.
Is he teasing and lightening the mood for her because of me, or am I now reading into everything?
“I mean, she’s not wrong.” Grant’s comment causes Georgia to flush again, but this time for different reasons. I’ll need to investigate that later too.
“Who’s driving?” I ask.
“I can,” Grant offers.
“You’re coming?” Georgia asks him.
“I’m a team player.” Grant stands too.
“We should take two vehicles,” Luke says, standing up from the chair. “Less suspicious if we’re not all rolling up in one car.”
“More cars, more attention?” I counter.
“We go in couples. That way it appears like we’re on dates.” I’m not convinced, but I’ll go with it. Luke knows this area and how people operate around here better than I do.
“So Madeline and I can go together,” Georgia starts to say, her eyes flicking over to me.
“No,” Luke cuts in. “You and Grant take his truck. Madeline rides with me.”
Georgia raises an eyebrow, looking between us. “Because?”
“Because if anyone sees us, Madeline and I need to look like we’re doing something other than investigating a murder.” Luke grabs his keys from his desk, not bothering to elaborate.
“And what exactly are you two going to look like you’re doing?” Grant asks, though the smirk on his face suggests he already knows.
Luke doesn’t answer. He just looks at me, waiting to see if I’ll argue.
I don’t. The logic is sound, even if his motives aren’t entirely clear, and I’m pretty sure Georgia was more worried about being paired with Luke.
“Fine. But we’re not actually?—”
“We’re a couple,” Luke says, cutting me off. “If we’re seen walking toward the boathouse together, it needs to look like we’re sneaking off to be alone. Not sneaking off to be nosy.”
My face heats. “That’s your plan? Fake a make-out session as cover?”
“It’s not a plan. It’s a contingency.” He heads for the door, expecting me to follow. “Unless you’ve got a better idea for why we’d be heading to a secluded boathouse at night on someone else’s property.”
I don’t. And the fact that he’s thought this through, that he’s already considered how to sell our presence there, makes me wonder what else he’s calculated in that head of his.
We ride in silence for the first few minutes. Luke drives a black SUV that smells like leather and something faintly metallic, maybe his cologne or the gym bag I spot in the back seat. The radio plays low, some alternative rock station that neither of us reaches to change.
“Your sister,” he says finally, not taking his eyes off the road. “The one you’re worried about. The cops would use her against you?”
I tense. “I don’t want to talk about my sister.” I don’t know him or trust him well enough to go there.
