“Hey,” Arlo said as he shrugged out of his raincoat and hung it and his hat on the stand near the door. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No.” Tucker glanced across the room at Della, who was watching him with a mix of wariness and hunger that sunk hot talons into his balls. “We weren’t asleep.”

“We?” Arlo looked across to find Della near the recliners. “Everything okay?” He took a step in her direction, his brow immediately scrunching in concern.

“Yeah, fine.” She held up the flashlight. “The batteries were running low.”

Arlo nodded, and Tucker took that as his cue for distraction in case Arlo started to ask any questions about their night. He may not have been able to lie to Della just now, but he was totally prepared to lie his ass off to her brother—cop or not—if he had to.

And so it began…

“Here.” He walked forward with the drink and the bottle—just in case—thrusting it toward Arlo. “Was it bad out there?”

“Yeah.” Arlo took the tumbler and gulped down half. “Three dead, two critical.”

Tucker winced. “No one local, I hope?”

“Nope.” He swallowed the second half of his drink. “It’s still a bit of a mess. The interstate’s closed westbound while the NTSB guys investigate. Hopefully they’ll be done by morning and we can reopen.”

Holding up the bottle of bourbon, Tucker said, “Another?”

“Hell yes. I think every part of me is frozen.”

Tucker poured, acutely aware of Della’s stillness, her muteness. Normally, she’d have expressed her sorrow at the loss of life and already be nagging her brother about a hot shower and going to bed. But she was just standing there silently, in the same spot she’d been when Arlo had walked in, staring at Tucker.

And he knew it was only a matter of time before her brother started to wonder why.

Arlo took another swallow of his drink, then glanced at his sister with a frown. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Yup…that didn’t take long.

Slowly, she shook her head, switching her attention from Tucker to Arlo as he took another sip of his drink. “I think it’s time I moved out.”

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Arlo practically inhaled his mouthful of booze, coughing and spluttering and bending over double as he gasped for breath. Tucker just gaped. Where the hell had that come from? He was just wrapping his head around her proposition, and now this.

He could tell from the tremble in her voice she was nervous, but she didn’t appear to be outwardly as she calmly waited out her brother’s coughing fit.

“What?” Arlo demanded when he eventually stopped choking and righted himself, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I said I think it’s time I moved out.” She held her brother’s gaze, her voice firm and strong this second time.