Page 21 of Last Man Standing

“Oh… um… okay.” Princess Scarlett swallows her contemptuousness and meets my eyes… without sneering. “Wh-what did he want?”

“We needed help.” Grunting, Linc backs up and leans against the counter by the stove. “We’ve been sitting on our hands for nearly two weeks. We’re running blind, no clue who left that note at your apartment, no idea beyond assumptions what the hell they want from you, and even less clue when they intend to make contact next.”

“S-so you called Mills? You told him⁠—”

“Not everything. I didn’t mention Roy, nor what was on the note, and I sure as fuck didn’t discuss Richard Aster or anyone associated with him.”

“So what did you say?”

“I played on what he already knew about you.” He drums his fingertips on the underside of the counter, tapping out a constant rhythm. “I said you discovered a note on your apartment door from someone we assume is a dude. He could be an admirer, could be someone you turned down at the bar or something. I went mostly with the truth: we don’t know who he is, but that he spooked you, which is why you’re here with me.”

“Oh God.” She pushes through the doorway and crosses the kitchen on shaky legs. Surprising us all, though no one as much as me, she pulls out the stool near mine and drops heavily. “Now he’s going to worry. He thought I was here for fun, Linc. A quick getaway…” Her eyes well up, sparkling and wet. “He’ll know I lied to him.”

“He already knows you lie when you’re scared. Your MO is to pretend everything is fine, even when it’s not. Now we use the cop’s eyes available to us, especially since he’s in the city your messenger is presumably still in. Mills knows a lot of your history, and even without me mentioning Roy, his detective brain will have him considering the dudes he associated with. It’s entirely possible we’re looking for one of Roy’s friends in all this.”

Scarlett sets her elbows on the counter, hunching her back and pressing the pads of her thumbs to her eyes. “Okay.” She exhales a sad sigh. “So he’s gonna ask around?”

“He already did.”

Stunned, she snaps her spine straight again. “What?”

“I told him two days ago. I just didn’t tell you, since you’re clearly handling your stress so well already.”

Gulping, I catch the flicker of her bright blue stare peeking my way. Apologetic. Fearful. Embarrassed. But then they’re gone again, back to her brother. “You should have told me.”

“Yeah? Well, you should’ve told me about the letter as soon as you walked through our front door. Or better yet, before you even got on the damn plane. You didn’t, which is why we’re in the situation we’re in now.”

“Did Detective Mills call with information?” Nova comes to a stop beside her man, first resting her shoulder against his, then sidling under his arm the instant he lifts it and welcomes her in. “That’s why you’re bringing him up now?”

“Yes. He said he has a CI who knew Roy back in the day. A friend, as far as Roy thought. A snitch, in reality. He told Mills about these whispers he’d heard around town. A guy named Jones is getting kinda noisy, apparently, and your name has come up a time or two.”

Anger tingles along my spine. Awareness makes it easy to form a plan in my mind: hop a plane, head to Colorado, break a motherfucker’s neck, bury him with his friend.

I could be done in under twenty-four hours, set Scarlett free, then I can go home again.

“The letter said he knew what I’d done.” Scarlett’s voice comes out on a pained rasp as she drops her hands into her lap and fusses with the sleeve of her sweater. “If the letter writer is this guy Jones, wouldn’t he just tell the cops?”

“Not if he wants a payday,” I grit through tight teeth. “He doesn’t want justice. He wants Benjamins.” I look to Lincoln. “Send me the details. I’ll take care of it.”

“What?” Horrified, Scarlett spins on her stool and grabs my arm as desperation spills from her every pore. “Take care of it how? W-what do you mean take⁠—”

“I’ll convince him to let this go.” I tug free and circle my stool. “And if I can’t convince him, I’ll make it so he never speaks again.”

“No,” Lincoln bites out, his voice a dark, dangerous command that pulls me up short. “I’m going.”

“No!” Scarlett cries out. “Absolutely not, Linc! This is my problem. It’s my drama. You stay here with Nova. Ask her to marry you already. Get on with your life.”

While Nova’s eyes flare with panic, Lincoln’s merely dance with mirth. “I’ll do what I’m gonna do in my own time, but thanks for your concern. Until then, maybe you could shut up long enough to let me tell you about the road trip the three of us are going on.”

“The three of who?” I point to him and Nova, then to Scarlett. “You three?”

“Nova and I made our promises.” He pulls her closer against his side. “Where I go, she goes. I’m not leaving Scarlett here alone, and I don’t expect Jones to make noise for much longer anyway. So yeah, us three.”

“Dumb shit plan,” I settle back onto my stool and stake my place within this conversation. Again. “You don’t take a mark toward the threat, stupid. Is this your first day on the job?”

“I’m not leaving her here alone.” Lincoln’s jaw flexes with barely concealed rage. “I’m not leaving Nova behind to keep her company. And I can’t ask a cop to execute a man in cold blood if convincing him to let this go doesn’t work out.”

“Hate to break it to you, bitch, but you ain’t taking Nova anywhere without me.”