“You got it,” he said. “We’ll have them meet you at a truck stop in case Jackson puts a GPS on you. Should be easy enough to pull off. If you ever get asked why you stopped, just say you needed to take a shit. Sooner or later we all do.”
“This is getting more personal than it needs to be.”
Picnic laughed. “Let me know when you leave town. I’ll call Bellingham and make the arrangements. Good job. This run is exactly what we need—access to their network and proof they’re stealing from us. And I don’t care how fantastic her tits are, don’t let Tinker distract you while you’re workin’. We’ve got your back, but we can’t ride in the truck with you. Keep your focus on what really matters here, got me? I fuckin’ hate funerals.”
SEATTLE
TINKER
We pulled up to the house at eight that night. I hadn’t been back for six months, and it seemed weird how unchanged everything was. Brandon hadn’t really spent much time there while we were married, and apparently he still didn’t. Not that the house wasn’t in perfect condition—we had a service for that—but it didn’t feel lived-in. The whole place was as sterile as our marriage had been.
I got Dad and Randi settled in their rooms before heading downstairs to check out my kitchen. Much as I hated what the rest of the house had come to represent, I loved what I’d created down here. Shining metal counters, giant sink with a built-in drainboard. Beautiful stove top and the enrobing machine. Rolling tray racks.
God, I missed it.
You could just stay here, an insidious voice whispered in my head. You don’t have to go back and face that crazy bitch. Leave it all behind. Your dad’s losing his mind anyway. In a few weeks he won’t even remember living somewhere else.
“Tinker?” I spun around to find Brandon. He was tall and svelte, all perfect hair and wearing a suit that had to cost thousands. I knew his family had money, but I’d always thought it looked bad for someone on a deputy prosecutor’s salary to wear clothes that flashy. Not that it was my business at this point. The sooner we finalized the divorce, the better.
“Hi, Brandon,” I said, offering him a tight smile. “I’ll only be here a few days. Shouldn’t mess with your life too much.”
“I’m not worried about that,” he said, walking toward me. “You look good, Tinker. I’ve missed you. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine,” I told him. “I’m only here because I had a batch of caramels go south on me, and I needed to get caught up. Figured it would be good to use the full kitchen for a couple of days.”
Brandon pulled a stool over to the center island and sat down.
“Do you have a few minutes?” he asked. “I wanted to talk to you.”
Ah, now I was remembering why I didn’t want to stay in Seattle. Whole damned town was infested with Brandon.
“You’ve got five,” I said. His eyes hardened and I could see the hint of frustration he tried to hide—Brandon never liked it when people set limits. Guess the house wasn’t the only thing that hadn’t changed.
“It’s been eighteen months,” he said in his Very Serious Voice. Juries always fell for it, which I guess I could understand. I used to fall for it, too. Now it just sounded ridiculous. “I think it’s time to discuss our separation.”
Sighing, I grabbed my own stool and pulled it over, sitting down to face him. “You’re right. I talked to my lawyer last week about moving things along faster. He says he still hasn’t gotten all the financials from you. What’s the holdup?”
Brandon frowned. “That’s not really what I meant, Tinker. All along, I’ve tried to give you space. I understood that you needed time to heal, and then when your mother died . . . well, we went through a series of tragedies, and that’s enough to shake any couple. But we’ve both had time to recover, and I think we need to discuss reconciliation.”
“Are you high? No. Just . . . no.”
“Tinker, you’re not even listening to me,” he said, his calm mask cracking. “I don’t think you understand the situation. The current Prosecuting Attorney is stepping down, and he’s going to back me in the next election. It’s great news, but our supporters want you as part of the package. It’s about family values. You’re a beautiful