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Dad shakes his head. “Fine. Just don’t sue me if you fall.”
She purses her lips, assessing all of us. “I got three strong boys here. Someone will catch me.”
“Don’t count on it,” Levi grumbles.
Tess pulls herself up on the stool and climbs onto the counter for a higher reach.
Dad grunts. “I’m going to go check my workers comp insurance.”
I sip my coffee, feeling my brother’s glare shift from the waitress to me. “How’s married life?”
“I’m not—” I glance around and decide it’s not worth risking our cover. Especially with Tessa floating above us. “Married yet.”
“But you’re playing house,” he pokes.
“Can someone pass me the blue?” Tessa points to the bowl of thick chalk on the counter.
I grin at my brother and slap his back—just to get him off mine. “You mind, bro? I’m color blind.”
He slides his tongue aggressively across his bottom lip and stands, circling to the other side of the bar.
“That explains your colorful personality, Chase,” Tessa mumbles.
“Not the dark blue, the light one,” she whines.
“What’s the difference?” Levi barks.
“You can’t see dark on dark, genius.”
Levi mumbles something about not being the one fired from three jobs in the past year and holds the bowl up to her.
Frustrated, she quickly picks one, losing balance and gripping one of the cabinets for support with a yelp.
“Christ,” Levi murmurs.
Tessa waves him off, swatting her hand in his direction. “Get back, you might catch my cooties.”
Levi rolls his eyes. “Still better than having to carry your broken ass to the hospital.”
“At least it’s not a grumpy ass,” she fires back, just before the handle of the cabinet Tess was gripping swings open and she flies backward. My brother catches her petite frame in his arms with a huff, his eyes flashing at the contact and sets her down.
“Next time, I’m letting you fall.”
The brief chat I had with Dad wasn’t an entire waste. The fact that he knows there were others involved—which wasn’t mentioned in any of the articles I read after Pepper fell asleep—is incredibly insightful.
Unfortunately, it brings me to Noah’s office. Since he’s the closest I can get to pulling some records. His establishment is tucked in between two storefronts on Main Street and he doesn’t have his own sign. Thank God for that. With his high paying clients all being outside of town and his pro bono clients all in Hideaway Springs, the less walk-ins he gets the better.
He swings the door open, his eyes flashing wide. “What happened?”
I hand him a dollar bill. “Your bound by attorney-client privilege.”
“Jesus Christ, come in.” I follow him into the small office. There’s a glass desk in the middle, a bulletin board against a deep blue wall behind him. One plant in desperate need of some love and two armchairs for clients. Oh, and framed black and white photos of our small town across the walls. No one in them, just the town in general.
“You take these?” I point to them.
“Can we cut the small talk, Chase. Did Mayfield find her?”
I blow out a breath and settle into one of the chairs. “This isn’t about her ex.”
