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The rider removes his aviator sunglasses, then the helmet.Tucker Royal.His hair is longer; the same goes for his beard. The guy’s looking more lumberjack than a cool musician. He puts his sunglasses back on then glides his fingers through thick blond hair, fixing his flattened strands.
Tucker swings his black boots off the bike. He gives me a wiggle of his fingers through the front window before opening the passenger door.
“Hey there, Mack. Feel like some company?” He doesn’t wait for my answer, just slides right on in, putting the helmet on the floor before, scooping up the binoculars, and moving the laptop to the dashboard that is in his way to make himself comfortable. He slides his aviators off and places them next to the computer.
I observe the man I now call a friend. He’s a good man. A loyal man under all that swagger and front, but the mere fact he’s sitting next to me in the back parking lot of a commercial business block—out of the blue with no heads up from Trinny—has me on alert. “What brings you here?”
“Fresh air and sunshine.”
Right.And I’m a unicorn.
“I call bullshit.”
Tucker laughs. “Can’t pull the wool over your eyes.”
I wait.
“So, you got Ophelia in there on a job?” Tucker points to the back wall of the café.
I give him a blank stare.
“You need more info? Okay, well, she’s about yay high.” Tucker raises his hand to the level of the steering wheel.Oh, man, here we go.“Stunning woman, but a bit of a spitfire, if you know what I mean. And she has the mostamazingbubble-bu—”
“Now, where did you hear that?” I glare at him.
“What? The bubble-bu—?”
I groan, rubbing my temple. “How do you know Ophelia?”
Tucker holds out his phone, showing me a selfie Ophelia took of herself in the café not that long ago. I notice the interior in the background is a match, and she’s got her disguise on with today’s outfit.
I raise one eyebrow, noting he didn’t answer my last question. “Now, how did you get a copy of that? Ophelia hasn’t mentioned she knows you. Something you want to tell me?”
“Nope.”
Tucker is tight-lipped, and I like that he can keep matters in-house on a need-to-know basis. I don’t need to know anything that isn’t my business, but curiosity kills this cat.
I sigh in frustration. “How did you get that photo? Ophelia is helping me out, and she won’t like knowing that image is out and about. She’s in disguise to protect her Airbnb business, more than playing a role while we investigate the schmuck managing Diamond Café.”
“I have my ways, and this image won’t leave my phone.”
“I would prefer you deleted it.”
Tucker casually shrugs. “Okay.” He fiddles with his phone. “All done.”
“I need to keep my promise to Ophelia to keep her identity secret while she’s working for me, so how—?”
“I snooped on Phoenix’s phone. I can’t help it if Phoenix and Slade live the sexual tension dream and don’t notice what I’m up to. I may have forwarded the image to my phone from her phone when Ophelia sent it while they were distracted by each other. Here…” He swipes the screen, holds his phone up again, and grins. “Don’t they look—”
“Christ!” I chuckle at the fierce face Phoenix is pulling at Slade. “Were you working the same job Phoenix and Slade were on?” I have my shovel out.
“Yup, that about sums it up.”
I shouldn’t be surprised he got his hands on that image after our get-to-know-you chat when he arrived at Mack & Cooper with charity fundraiser tickets in his hand. The guy is bright and knows how to get information, but why has he helped himself to it?
“Now you can see why I needed some fresh air, so I thought I would drop by the office, have a natter to Trinny, and get her heart butterflies fluttering, and glean some pertinent information from her lips, using that image. Maybe I exaggerated how much Phoenix said I could ride along if I promised to be discreet and stay out of the way, so here I am.”
“You still haven’t told me how you know Ophelia.”
