Drew’s gaze seemed to bore right into him. Because of his job, Drew met people at a time when they were at their lowest, which made him a very good listener and a person in which people often confided. He also knew death could bring out the best and worst in people, and between that and growing up with four sisters, he was really good at sniffing out bullshit.

“I was talking to Eadie Doyle at the Fraser funeral today.”

“So?”

“She lives opposite Della.”

Well, crap. Suddenly Tucker knew exactly where this was going. But fuck it, he could bluff it out. “So?”

“She was telling me Della’s had a visitor every night since she’s moved in.”

Tucker shrugged nonchalantly. “Della’s a friendly person. I’m sure she’s had plenty of visitors.”

“This guy normally comes after ten, stays for an hour or two.”

“That so?”

“It is.”

“Well…good for her.”

Christ, he sounded so calm, but it was far from what he was feeling. He hadn’t driven his pickup to Della’s because he hadn’t wanted to attract any attention from nosy neighbors. He didn’t realize Eadie Doyle was keeping a fucking journal on his comings and goings.

“Dude…” Drew shook his head. “What are you doing?”

Tucker sighed as he saw the truth in Drew’s eyes. He knew. Drew knew the exact identity of Della’s nightly visitor. But he didn’t know anything else, right? Unless Eadie was also lurking in the bushes with a pair of binoculars.

“Fine…I’ve been calling in to check up on her and the dog. That’s it. Just dropping in to make sure she’s doing okay.”

“Yeah…except you just lied to Arlo about going home every night from Jack’s. I mean, if you really are only calling in to check up on a friend, why wouldn’t you just tell him that? And what the hell is with the whistling?”

“Jesus.” Tucker glared at Drew. “I’ll stop whistling, okay?”

But Drew was clearly not going to be deterred. He regarded Tucker for long, long moments with eyes that could spot a person jockeying for some inheritance action from across a room. “Fuck. You’re sleeping with her, aren’t you?”

Tucker shook his head vehemently. “No. Jesus—” He glanced around at his few disinterested customers. “Keep your voice down.”

“Shit, Tucker,” he whispered. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

There was absolutely no point in trying to deny it any further. Drew knew something was going on between them, and they’d been friends long enough to know the guy couldn’t be dissuaded when he knew he was right.

“I’m not…we’re not sleeping together.”