Shane nodded, enthusiasm warring with his anxiety. “The deputy said you needed help solving a crime.”
“Yes.” Instead of taking the chair across from Shane, Matt rounded the table and perched on the corner of the table. Not only did he maintain physical command, but he encroached on Shane’s personal space. Matt pushed right through a socially acceptable boundary as if he were entitled to do so. He didn’t ask permission. He didn’t apologize. He took up space as if that were his right and established himself as alpha.
Shane didn’t protest. He accepted Matt’s superiority like an eager puppy.
“What’s up?” Shane’s voice begged for approval. “How can I help?”
“Well, here’s the thing.” Matt shook his head. “I hate to even ask. It feels wrong, but I need some info on a pal of yours. He’s in deep trouble.”
Shane sat up straighter. “Who?”
Matt’s mouth tightened, as if what he was about to do were distasteful. “Brian Dylan.”
Shane’s shoulders shifted backward an inch as caution crept into his interest.
Matt held up a hand, and his voice oozed with understanding. “I know. He’s your buddy. I have buddies too, and I wouldn’t want to give them up for anything.”
Shane nodded hard.
“But here’s the thing. Dylan has been going off lately. Some of the shit he’s done . . .” Matt paused, again conveying his discomfort with the topic. “I’m sure you’ve seen it too.”
Shane bobbed his head. “He’s been weird. That’s for sure.”
“I want to talk to him before he goes completely off the rails.” Matt hesitated for emphasis. “Before he does something that he can’t come back from.”
Shane frowned. His head inclined just a touch, agreeing with Matt without speaking.
“Any idea what’s up with him?” Matt asked. “I’m worried. Me and Dylan worked together for years.”
“You were tight?” Shane’s chin lifted.
“Oh, yeah,” Matt lied without hesitation.
“He never mentioned you.”
Matt shrugged. “Haven’t seen him lately. I was out of action for a while. Got shot.” He lifted his hand and pointed to the puckered scar in his palm, then raised the hem of his shirt and turned his upper body to show where the bullet had hit him in the back. With his heavily muscled and scarred torso, no one looked more badass than a bare-chested Matt.
Shane’s eyes bugged. “Shit.” His voice vibrated with awe.
“It happens.” Matt shrugged off the injuries. “Part of the job.”
Bree shifted in her chair. As impatient as she was for Matt to get to the meat of the interview, she respected his ability to gauge the suspect and not rush the process. They wouldn’t get another opportunity. Once Shane realized he was in trouble, he’d stop talking.
“Back to Dylan.” Matt dropped the hem of his shirt as if his wounds weren’t important. “What’s up with him?”
Shane shook his head. “He’s been weird ever since he hooked up with that bitch.”
Matt nodded knowingly.
“She fucking ruined everything.” Shane sulked, scraping the toe of his sneaker on the floor. “Hardly seen Dylan since she’s been in the picture.”
“I hear ya. Bros before hoes, am I right, my man?” Matt extended a closed fist.
With a vigorous nod, Shane bumped it. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t hate all women. Just those stuck-up bitches.”
“Right,” Matt agreed. “What’s this bitch’s name?”
“I don’t know. We weren’t introduced.” Resentment edged into Shane’s tone.
“What’d she look like?”
“I didn’t see her face. She was wearing a hat, and I only saw her from a distance.”
“Can you tell me anything about her?”
Shane’s brow dropped as he concentrated. “Older lady, but in good shape for her age. She’s got a nice set of tits on her.”
Matt grinned. “That explains Dylan’s lapses in judgment.”
Shane chuckled. “I guess it does.”
“But seriously, I’m worried about him.” Matt flattened his lips and exhaled through his nose. “I heard a rumor that he got himself into some trouble last night.”
Shane stiffened.
Matt leveled a stern gaze at Shane. “Do you know anything about that?”
Uncomfortable, Shane scooted his butt in his chair.