Page 56 of Playing With Love

“Lizzy. Gun?”

“In my purse.”

“Get it.”

Tucker let go of my hand, I moved to the kitchen table where I’d set my bag, and nabbed my Glock. I did this not liking the urgency of his demand. Hell, the fact he’d requested me to be armed didn’t give me good thoughts.

We’d left Jessica’s house a little over an hour ago. Allyson had readily agreed to our plan. Jessica had taken some convincing, but just as Nick had suggested, Tucker and I used the dead friend card. Thankfully not in a gross way. The gentle reminder we needed a way in to help find Beatrice’s killer had sealed the deal. Allyson was all for our help and she’d talked her sister around, allowing us to use the high school friend route. During our visit, Allyson told us Mackenzie had called her and asked her to come back to Tennessee for Beatrice’s memorial. According to Allyson, Mackenzie had sounded sincere and shaken up. She further reported Mackenzie had been firm in her request, making it more of a demand than an appeal. Jessica had wavered in the time we’d spent talking the sisters through our plan, which had only fueled Jessica’s worry. But in the end, she’d come back around.

As a precaution, Jessica agreed to allow TC to put a tracker on her car and phone, and she’d carry a panic button. Tucker calmly explained the tracking was overkill and wouldn’t be necessary, but since we were using her as part of my cover, we wanted her protected. We’d also left her with all the guys’ phone numbers programmed in her phone. All the guys included Lenox, Levi, Clark, and Jasper—the OG Triple Canopy men who would also be available to her if she needed them.

We were leaving for Tennessee tomorrow.

Our plan was in place.

It was all good when we’d left.

Now Tucker was demanding I get my gun.

So, no, I wasn’t having good thoughts as I hooked my holster on my belt, still listening to a one-sided conversation.

“Copy that.” Another pause. “We’re leaving now.”

“What’s—”

“I’ll explain in the car. Let’s go.”

Tucker was at the front door holding it open impatiently waiting on me. I hustled to him, then through the door. He stopped only to lock up before he was on the move to his driveway, beeping the locks. My ass was barely in the passenger seat as he was firing up his Yukon.

“Belt up.”

I belted up.

Tucker backed out, shifted into drive, and shot forward.

The speed in which he drove through the development he lived in was another point of concern. Earlier on our way in, he’d driven like a grandpa. Now he was accelerating around the corner like a NASCAR racer.

“Tucker?”

“Matt Kessler,” he weirdly said and stopped.

Matt worked at TC. I’d met him, liked him, but didn’t understand why Tucker was bringing him up when he was blowing through a stop sign without slowing down.

“What about him?”

“He and his wife, Chelsea, own a small ranch just outside of Hollow Point. He’s forty-five minutes away with Luke meeting with a client. His alarm tripped. Logan’s on his way to Matt’s house but he needs me there as back-up. Chelsea’s not answering her phone and she was supposed to be home.”

Not Allyson.

“Though she could be out riding. Service is spotty out in the back field of their property.”

“Riding?”

“They have horses. Chelsea used to do rodeo…or ride rodeo…however you say that. She rode bulls and did barrel racing. She still rides, gives lessons, but no longer competes.”

“She was a bull rider?”

Holy shit. That was crazy. Impressive but crazy.