Good Girls Don't (Donovan Brothers Brewery 1)

“I know, but—”

“Is your brother Eric here?”

She stepped back. “Why?”

“Because I thought he might be interested in what I have to say.” This time his smile wasn’t the least bit fake. It was slimy with self-satisfaction and bright with threat.

Tessa’s heart beat a hundred miles an hour. “No,” she said, willing herself not to glance toward the door. “He’s not here. He’s prepping for a show in Santa Fe.”

“Too bad. Maybe I’ll try again later.”

He walked out, whistling a perfect rendition of “Happy Talk” as he sauntered through the door. Tessa could only stand frozen with horrified shock. He’d threatened her, hadn’t he? What kind of charity tournament was this?

Jamie had been right. These people were bad news. All of them. As soon as she could force her feet to move, she walked back to her office and called her attorney. “If I back out of this deal now, would there be any legal repercussions?”

“Thank God,” he murmured, then cleared his throat and carried on. “The only possibility is that Kendall could claim he passed up another opportunity on the basis of your promised deal. But as you’re only supplying a product, and he could go with another vendor at any time, his case wouldn’t have merit.”

“Good. Don’t do anything right now, okay? I need some time to think.” And plan. And maybe cry a little.

“IT’S ONE DAMN fingerprint,” Luke grouched at the technician.

“Yeah, well, you’re one detective among thirty. Get in line.”

Luke set his head against the doorjamb and banged it a couple of times. “Okay, I’m sorry.

Can you give me the status?”

“It’s dusted and scanned and the computer is working on it right now. It could be a few minutes. It could be an hour.”

“Why didn’t you say that first?” he growled as he turned and stalked out. “I’ll be at my desk,” he tossed over his shoulder. “Waiting.” He’d sent a team out to sweep the area behind the fence and they’d come up with a few more scraps of trash, but he was focused on the cigarette package. It was an empty packet of Dunhills. Not the most common brand. Dunhill was a high-end English brand, and whoever had bought the pack must have purchased them in a smoke shop, not a grocery store. An odd piece of trash to find next to the lonely curb of a dead-end street.

But if someone had pulled up to the curb and opened the back door of an SUV to load up stolen goods… Even the lightest breeze could’ve blown that empty pack out of the truck.

Ah, crap, it was a long shot, but what the hell. Maybe he’d get a hit on someone with a record. Maybe the guy’s mug shot would come up with Criminal Mastermind Leader stamped across it.

He chuckled, thinking that Tessa would love that.

“Did you get a hit?” Simone asked as he dropped into his desk chair. “Nothing yet.”

“So why do you look so happy?”

He glanced up in surprise. “What?”

“You’re walking around here with a smile on your face, Asher. It’s freaking everybody out.”

He stole a glance around the room, but no one was even breathing in his direction. Simone winked. “Gotcha.”

“You’re funny. Speaking of, what are you so happy about?”

“I don’t know,” she said, surprising him. He hadn’t expected an answer. “I feel better. Not so lost somehow.”

Luke sat up straighter in his chair. “Really? That’s great.”

Her eyes slid down, and he realized she was holding something.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing,” she said, but when she slipped the small square back into her desk, he recognized it as one of the ultrasound pictures he’d found the other night. “It’s a girl,” she said softly.