A scream escaped her when she saw a man standing at the window outside her bedroom.
“Shut up!” Greer’s loud voice could be heard through the glass.
Sutton stormed toward the window, unlocking it then raising it halfway. “What in the world are you doing outside my window?”
“I’m not a damn pervert. Let me in; I want to talk to Tate.”
“Why didn’t you just go to the door?” She stubbornly refused to budge.
“I didn’t want the cops to see me.”
“What cops?” Sutton became frightened that her pap’s home was going to be raided. Visions of police raids ran through her mind.
“The ones watching me. Now move.”
“Let him in,” Tate ordered from behind her.
Her fingers trembled when she realized he was standing so close to her.
She raised the window the rest of the way before sliding sideways so she wouldn’t touch Tate’s bare chest. She was glad he had at least worn the pants, although they were loose and hung low on his hips. His muscular body was illuminated by the early-morning sun shining through the window.
Unconsciously, she licked her bottom lip, lowering her eyes when she saw Tate was staring at her. Realizing he wasn’t the only one half-dressed, she snatched up the robe she had placed on her bed the night before, coving the thin T-shirt that came to the top of her thighs.
Greer climbed in through the widow with a dexterity that showed it wasn’t the first time he had used the method to enter a home.
Once he was inside, he studied his older brother with a critical eye. “You okay?”
“Been better,” Tate answered, his hand holding his ribs.
“What happened?”
As Tate started to describe to Greer what had happened, Sutton interrupted long enough to tell them she was making coffee.
“Close the curtains in the living room.”
Sutton stopped, glaring at Greer’s order. “I will. I’ve already been frightened once this morning. If I look out and see Dustin’s face, I’ll have a heart attack.”
Greer ignored her jibe, turning back to question Tate.
Sutton made a pot of coffee and toast for herself. She drew the line at feeding Tate. He could fix his own breakfast.
She was about to take a bite of the grape jelly smeared toast when Tate and Greer entered the kitchen, taking chairs at the table.
“Can I get a cup of coffee?”
“I’m not a waitress. Get Greer to pour you a cup.”
Both brothers stared at her mutely before Greer’s chair scraped back and he went to the coffee pot, pouring them both a cup.
“Why are you holding your ribs?”
“The son of a bitch must have kicked me while I was unconscious,” Tate answered with a grimace as he tried to get comfortable on the chair.
“Want me to tape you up?”
“No. I think they’re just bruised. I’m not having trouble breathing, so nothing’s broken.”
“You’re damn lucky whoever did it didn’t kill you.”
“They didn’t want me dead. If they did, they had the chance when I was unconscious.”
“Any idea who it could be?”
“No.” Tate ran his hand through his hair. “Go see Jo today and see if she knows why her dad was out in the woods so late.”
Greer set their cups down on the table before sitting back down.
Tate took a drink then asked for his pain pills. Sutton went into her bedroom to get the pills, and when she came back, they were discussing the different people in town who had grudges against Lyle.
“Lucky is still angry that he nearly ran Willa over when he was drunk.”
“Lucky wouldn’t have killed him. He’s a pastor. He would have sent Shade after him, and that bastard doesn’t shoot from behind; he likes to pop them between the eyes.”
“How do you know that?”
“I saw him take someone out when he didn’t know I was watching.”
Sutton slid her plate of toast to Tate, not wanting him to get sick on an empty stomach. Greer reached out, taking a piece of the toast. That was when she decided, if she was going to get anything to eat, she was going to have to feed them first. She made a stack of toast and nuked a couple of packets of oatmeal. Setting the food down, she snatched one of the toast slices before the men could take it all.
She chewed on the toast as Greer filled Tate in on the different agencies searching for him.
“The state police came by during the middle of the night. They tore the house apart then went to Cash and Rachel’s house.”
“They tear it apart, too?”
“What do you think? Cash was standing there, watching every move they made.”
“They were too afraid of Cash to tear his house apart, but you let them tear ours apart? I’m disappointed in you.”
“Fuck off,” Greer grumbled. “I wasn’t there. I was in the woods with Dustin, trying to find any signs of who killed Lyle.”