“Not interested.”
“Seriously?” Luke looked at Asher, as if he’d have an answer, but he just shrugged. “Is there something wrong with you? Everything works, right?”
I glared at him. “Do you want me to take you down in front of all those girls?”
Luke grinned. “Not particularly. Look man, I’m just trying to help. You want to be sad and alone, that’s fine. I’m going to have a little fun with some out-of-towners.”
He strolled off, his cockiness low-key compared to Z. But it was still there. Those two read from the same playbook. Luke was just more subtle about it.
“I’m not sad and alone,” I muttered.
“What was that?” Asher asked.
“Nothing. My brothers are annoying.”
“Yeah, so are mine, but what are you gonna do.”
Dad finally arrived, taking up half the doorway with his broad shoulders. Paul Haven was a big guy from lumberjack stock. His brown hair and beard were peppered with gray and he wore a faded blue plaid shirt and jeans.
He paused, noting two of his sons surrounded by a bunch of women. With a slight shake of his head, he came over to the bar and took the seat on the other side of me.
Asher stood. “I should get going. Make sure I’m home before Grace and the kids get back.”
“The beer’s on me,” I said. “Congrats again.”
“Thanks, Haven.” He tipped his chin to my dad. “Good to see you, Paul.”
Dad nodded. “You too.”
Asher left and Hayden brought Dad a beer.
“How’s the house looking?” he asked. “I meant to get over there today but I didn’t get around to it.”
“So far it’s in worse condition than we thought.”
“How much drywall did you ruin?”
I cracked a smile. “Most of it.”
He chuckled. “Figures. We should probably make changes to the budget, then. Find some less expensive options for some of the finishes.”
“Probably.”
“I’ll work on that. Jim Brenner owes me a favor, maybe I can get a deal on the windows.”
“Sounds good. And I’ll try to finish demo without breaking anything else.”
“You do that.”
Our meeting, such as it was, didn’t take long. He had a lead on another property that might go up for sale. We weren’t quite ready to invest in another house, but it was good to keep an eye out. I showed him my sketch for the new kitchen layout to make sure he approved. He did.
My dad was a pretty straightforward guy. Made working with him easy.
While we talked, the question of whether I’d locked the back door of the remodel kept bugging me, like an itch I couldn’t reach. It was probably fine, but we’d had trouble with squatters in one of our properties not long ago and I had no desire to go through that again.
I left some money on the bar to cover our tab and tip, then stood. “I need to swing by the house. Might have forgotten to lock the back door.”
“Okay, son,” Dad said. “Have a good night.”
“Tell Mom I said hi.”
“I will.”
I left the tavern and got in my truck. The days were getting long as we got into June and the sun was still above the mountain peaks. It was a nice night. If Z and Luke had any sense, they’d take those girls down to the river. Better atmosphere than a grimy old tavern.
But what did I know?
I headed over to the house and parked next to the dumpster. I remembered locking the front door when I left and sure enough, it was secure. Inside was quiet, everything the way I’d left it. A dirty mess. I walked to the back of the house and checked the back door.
Locked.
That was good but I was glad I’d taken the time to check anyway. Tilikum had always been pretty safe, but you never knew.
I went back out the front and locked up behind me. Movement in the corner of my vision caught my eye. Probably just a squirrel—they were everywhere in this town—but why was there a car in the driveway of the two-bedroom next door?
Annika had said the tenants bailed, so it was going to be vacant for another month. Wasn’t that just a few days ago? She couldn’t have found a new tenant already.
The car in the driveway was a basic sedan. It needed a wash but that wasn’t what tugged at my gut instinct. The back seat was jam packed full of stuff. I walked closer to peer inside. The passenger seat was clear, but the rest of the car was stuffed. It looked like someone—or a couple of someones—living out of their car.