There was a reason Dennis Lowe picked me, having obsessed on Feb and Colt since they were all in high school together.

Wanting Feb for his own, he’d found a replacement in me.

In other words, we looked a lot alike.

Obviously, we still did, both of us tall, built, blonde, and brown-eyed.

Though, there was more to it and it was uncanny.

Honest to God, she looked like my older sister.

For obvious reasons, these making me a target of an ax murderer, even when she turned out to be awesome, it had fucked with my head. Lowe had even called me Feb and February, saying it was a nickname because we’d met in that month, but doing it because that was who he saw in me.

He also told me his name was Alexander Colton and he was a cop, not what he was in reality—a geeky software guy who hid the batshit crazy.

Since she and Colt were looking out for me, I covered my reaction to our physical similarities and what that all bought me in my life, burying the wince every time someone said her name.

It took some time, but I finally pulled my head together, twisting my thinking process to what it should be.

Feb was gorgeous. She’d been in her early forties when I met her and was smack in the middle of them now. That shit had not faded. She was the kind of woman men would look at when she was sixty and they’d still think, oh yeah.

She also had an edge, like me. Hers had softened over the years since she got Colt back and they had their baby, Jack, but it wasn’t totally gone. Lowe had also forced her life on a trajectory where she didn’t want to be, and that had started decades ago, so it had lasted a lot longer than mine.

Her edge made her cool, however. It made the sweet she had in her a surprise, which meant it ended up feeling like a gift when she gave that to you.

And if she had all that and kept it, my big sister who wasn’t of blood but was of a different variety, it boded well for me in the coming decades.

“Yo,” I called.

“Hey,” she called back.

I braced for her to start something with me about Merry, but she didn’t.

This was surprising.

Then again, I was surprised my cell hadn’t lit up since Friday, not only from Feb but from all the hens in our coop.

“Darryl was last in last night and he didn’t restock. I’m doin’ that and takin’ stock while I do. Need to get an order in. Can you take care of the bar while I do that? I’ll help if things get busy.”

Tuesdays during the day at J&J’s were the same as Mondays, so watching the bar while Feb did her thing would not be tough.

Even if it was, for her, I’d break my back doing it.

“Sure,” I said, heading to the office so I could dump my purse. “And I’ll help with the restock.”

“That’d be cool.”

I went into the office thinking it wasn’t surprising Darryl forgot the restock. If he was on alone on a weeknight, shutting down the bar, more often than not he forgot something. The only thing he never forgot to do was securing the money from the register in the safe.

Darryl could forget something you told him two seconds after the words left your mouth.

I didn’t think this was because he was stupid (entirely). He was just one of those people who didn’t have all their synapses firing. It took patience, but if you had that with him, he got where you needed him to go eventually.

I made it to the office, dumped my purse on the desk, and turned my mind from Darryl to the decision I’d made in my car on the way to work.

After I’d texted Merry last night, he hadn’t texted back. With the games we were playing, that could mean anything.

But he seemed entrenched.

As for me, I needed to protect myself, and part of doing that was getting him out of my business, any business I had. To accomplish that, I had to sort out the Trent and Peggy thing, and considering I had a job and a kid, limited money, and no investigative skills, I had to call in help.

If I was going to be facing lawyer fees to keep Ethan, I also had to hoard my cake.

All this led me to one conclusion: I had to find someone who’d do the legwork for me and do it for a price I could afford to pay.

I dug out my phone, scrolled down to that name in my Contacts, and hit call.

Ryker answered on the third ring.

“What’s goin’ on with you and Merrick?” he asked as greeting.

I set my teeth, not surprised Ryker knew something was going on with Merry and me because Merry had dragged me into the office at J&J’s. Morrie saw that, probably fifty other people saw that, and no doubt at least forty-eight (if not all fifty-one) of those people were talking about it.

I shared the minimum. “Something happened. One-time thing. We’re movin’ on.”

“One-time thing?”

“One-time thing,” I confirmed.

“You stupid?” he asked.

I decided not to answer that or react to it all, but I only decided that because I needed him.

I changed the subject. “I got a situation.”

“No shit?” he told me.

Thinking he still was referring to what he didn’t really know was going on between Merry and me, something I was done talking about, not to mention I had to get out and help Feb, I kept our conversation firm where I wanted it to be.

“Listen, I need a favor,” I said.

“I play, you pay,” he replied.

This was not a surprise. Ryker did nothing for nothing. You always paid. But I was speaking to him because he had three options he accepted for compensation: you owed him a marker, you gave him information, or you gave him money.

There was no marker he’d be willing to hold from me. And I didn’t want to spend the money on an investigator, not one as good (or expensive) as Tanner Layne, not one who was probably shit but less expensive, and not Ryker.

But I worked at a bar and Ryker dealt in a lot of currencies, information being one that for him was most lucrative.

“My ex and his wife are making rumblings they might wanna take my boy from me,” I shared.

“Sucks, sister,” he muttered but didn’t jump in to offer services for free.

“They may be happy just to negotiate more time with him. Before I sit down and do that, I wanna know, they get that time, he’s goin’ to good people. I need you to help me on that. And as a down payment to that shit, I’ll tell you the renters two doors down from my place had a short but loud conversation I overheard and the name Carlito was mentioned.”

I didn’t know if Ryker had any interest in Carlito.

I just knew that Ryker had interest in anything, specific things being worth more, and those specific things he took an interest in was the kind of guy Carlito was.

Ryker was silent.

I opened my mouth to speak.

“You at the bar?” he barked, his tone so loud and severe, I automatically jerked the phone an inch from my ear.

I felt nastiness slithering up my neck into my scalp at the sudden extreme Ryker was aiming at me.

“Yeah,” I answered hesitantly.

I got nothing in reply.

“Ryker?” I called but heard beeping, telling me the call ended.

I stared at my phone for a second, went to recent calls, and called him again.

He didn’t answer.

Shit, that was not good.

I left a voicemail of “Call me,” stowed my purse, shoved my phone in my back pocket, and headed out to help Feb.

“You need me to get anything from the storeroom?” I asked over the bar she was hunkered down behind.

“Took stock and grabbed everything I needed. Just gotta rotate it.”

I went behind the bar.

There were four fridges back there. She was at fridge two.

I went to fridge three and dragged one of the boxes she’d filled toward me.

“Heard you took care of Merry after the Mia news made the rounds,” she remarked casually.

Lying in wait.

Shit.

I knew I wouldn’t get away with it. She was my big sister in a lot of ways.