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SONOFABITCH. THAT’S WHAT she wanted to say, but she managed to not let the word out. Not because she particularly cared what the man standing beside her thought of her vocabulary—she’d been raised by a soldier and she owned a bar. Her dictionary of curse words was understandably intense. But giving in to that urge would probably lead to a serious meltdown that she didn’t have the luxury of indulging in right now.
Tucker stared at the little baggie dangling from the soldier’s fingers. Twice in one night. Her teeth ground together. Taking a deep breath, she dragged her gaze up.
“Well, that’s a problem.”
A big one. Finding that bag in the bathroom was one thing. Sure, she did what she could to keep drugs out of her bar, but it was inevitable that some might slip through.
But him finding a sizable amount on the floor, the same night, was more than a coincidence. It was a major issue, one she and Wyatt would have to address.
“Really?” His dry tone irritated the hell out of her.
She moved to take the bag, but he snatched it out of her reach, holding it above her. “No, you don’t.”
So frustrating. Tucker tipped her head back and glared at the drugs dangling above her.
“What? I wasn’t planning on using it.”
“Sure.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she scowled at him. “I try my damnedest to keep that shit out of my place, but I’m not naive enough to think it doesn’t still get in.”
“So you intend to turn this over to the police?”
“Why would I do that? It isn’t like the drugs can be traced to a person. They were lying on the floor. I’ll just...flush them down the toilet.” That was exactly what she needed to do.
“Uh-uh.”
“Look...” Tucker’s voice trailed off and she realized that she didn’t even know his freakin’ name. He’d picked her up off the floor, sent her blood pressure spiking as his palm cupped the back of her head, held an ice pack to her throbbing cheek and she didn’t even know his name.
Maybe she should keep it that way.
“Finn McAllister.”
“And Duchess.” She knew the dog’s name. The dog she didn’t like to even glance at because it sent a zing of apprehension through her chest. “Look, Finn, I appreciate you sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong.”
“Gee, what an amazingly passive aggressive expression of appreciation.”
Tucker let out a sigh. “Fine. Thank you for stepping in and helping with our little problem. And for making sure I was okay.” Even she heard the reluctance in her words.
“Wow,” he said, a smile stretching across his gorgeous mouth. No man should have lips like that, perfect and lush, the thin white scar running through the right edge only making him more dangerously tempting. “That might have been even worse.”
“No, I really mean it.”
She did. While it grated that she’d needed the help, she was big enough to realize it was the truth. No doubt she’d get another lecture from Wyatt when this was all over. He was constantly telling her not to get in the middle of altercations and just let him and the guys do their jobs.
But she had a hard time taking a step back and watching anyone protect what she’d worked so hard to build.
Her father had raised her to be self-reliant and independent. She could still hear his voice in her head, telling her she was a big girl and needed to be strong, right before he left her by herself for months. She hadn’t disappointed him then and she had no intention of starting now.
Even if there were days she felt...alone.
Despite the sense of family she tried to build within her team, they came and went. As much as she hated it, she was used to a fluid train of people moving in and out of her life. Moving around a lot as a kid, she’d become adept at being friendly with everyone, but not actually forming friendships because it always tore her heart out when those bonds were inevitably broken.
She’d built those old, protective walls pretty strong and high. Now, she wasn’t sure she knew how to find a door—or even a crack—to let someone in. Not really.
Her cheek throbbed, her ankle and ass hurt, and her head was starting to pound, from stress, the punch, whatever. She was done dealing with this mess.
And this man.
Taking a step away, she said, “I’m assuming since your dog is trained to scent drugs that you know the best way to destroy that.” She nodded at the baggie still suspended above her head. “I’m going to trust you to take care of it, but if you decide to smoke it...”
“Not happening.”
“Whatever. If you decide to use it yourself I don’t want to hear about it if you OD.”
The corners of his lips turned up slightly, not nearly a smile, but definitely humor at what she’d said. The idea that he was silently laughing at her burned.
Slowly, he lowered his hand. Arms crossed over his chest, feet spread wide like he was king of the castle surveying his domain, his gaze ran over her. In the middle of a crowded bar he suddenly made her feel like the only person present. How the hell did he do that?
“You know something?” he finally said. “You’re cute.”
Tucker gave a fake gasp. “I’ve never heard that in my entire life.”
Between her small stature, long blond curls and refined facial features, people tended to take one look at her and see sweet and soft. There was a large part of her that delighted in proving those people wrong because she was neither of those things.
Finn, however, simply ignored her sarcasm. “And I wouldn’t touch the stuff if someone was holding a gun to my head. I’ve seen the results firsthand. It’s nasty.”
Tucker could hear the bitterness in his words, but didn’t want to care. She definitely didn’t want to ask.
It didn’t matter anyway. In the next five minutes he was going walk out of her bar and out of her life.
“I have a business to run and a nasty bruise to ice. I’d appreciate it if you and your dog left my premises.”
“Nice way to repay us for the help.”
She shrugged. “My bar, my decisions. The sign outside the front door clearly says I have the right to refuse service to anyone I choose. Your tab’s on me. Have a good life, Finn McAllister.”
3 (#ulink_c1c52620-7f93-519b-982d-5517cae33ea0)
SITTING ON THE balcony off his bedroom, Finn stared at the sun rising over the flat green landscape and into the wide-open sky. He’d spent years in other places, but San Antonio had always been home. His parents still lived in the suburb he’d grown up in not far away.
One of the main reasons he’d bought this house was for the unencumbered view. Sure, off in the distance he could see the high rises of the city, but here...he’d found some peace. Although, tonight it had done little to settle the jumble of nerves and emotions churning inside him.
His gaze snagged on the baggie of crystal meth that sat on the table in front of him. He’d placed it inside an evidence bag. Later in the morning he’d contact Officers Dade and Simmons, members of the joint task force he and Duchess had been assigned to assist, and turn it over. If they got lucky maybe they’d get some prints and another lead.
Eventually, they’d get back the chemical analysis, which could tie this batch to the others that had been discovered at the scenes of the deaths they were investigating.
The fine crystalline powder stared at him. Mocked him. But he couldn’t look away.
God, he hated that drug. Hated all of them, really, but he hated meth with a fiery passion. He wasn’t lying to Tucker when he said he’d seen the cost of the high it brought. Ultra addictive, it didn’t discriminate in the lives it destroyed.
His sister had been beautiful, popular, intelligent. She’d been in the top of her class, well on her way to an academic scholarship at a good college. No one in her life would’ve imagined she’d become an addict and OD, dying just two months before her high school graduation.
Finn could still see the image of her pale, lifeless body on that cold metal slab in the morgue. He’d been the one to identify her, his parents both too devastated to do it.
That experience had changed the trajectory of his own life. He’d already been in the Air Force, headed to the K9 training unit. When they’d offered him the chance to train with a drug dog instead of a bomb dog he’d jumped at the offer, joining a new mission that specialized in combating the increasing use of illegal drugs among soldiers.
He’d do anything he could to get drugs off the streets and get soldiers proper help for the stress they were under.
Now though, he and Duchess were out of active duty. Transferred to the training center so he could ensure the next crop of K9 handlers had the skills they needed to perform their jobs.
“Duchess, heel.”
The first soldier who’d ODed had been a tragedy. Well, truly, all of them were. But when the third one died, Finn and Duchess, because of their experience and specialized skills, had been temporarily assigned to a team from the drug enforcement unit. The General himself had given Finn a clear directive saying that stopping the flow of meth onto the base was his top priority.
Finn already knew exactly what Dade and Simmons were going to say when he told them what had happened. It was clear someone needed to keep an eye on the Kentucky Rose, and he had every intention of volunteering for the job.
From what Freeman had told them, they were looking for a woman. Thanks to the drugs, the man’s memory was weakened and he hadn’t been able to give them much to go on. He recalled her long hair and the fact that she was shorter than he was, but the rest of the details were fuzzy. They were hoping a couple of days’ rest would help him remember more.
Finn had Googled the fiery blond bar owner and he’d had to wonder, given that Tucker Blackburn fit the admittedly broad description they had, if she might be involved in some way. But either she was an award-worthy actress or her reaction to drugs in her bar was genuine. He’d watched the emotions flit across her face, unguarded and unchecked—bewilderment, irritation, anger and then disgust.
For the moment, he decided to operate under the belief she was unaware. Which, if it was true, only made him angrier. This was not going to be a picnic and there was a part of him that raged on her behalf for being dragged into this mess.
But there was nothing he could do about that. The Kentucky Rose was smack in the middle of it all, and if he had his way the inconvenience was going to get bigger before it got better. The best he could do was try to protect her.
Even if she wasn’t going to like his methods.
* * *
THE NEXT AFTERNOON Tucker stood in the middle of the Rose and tipped her head back. Closing her eyes, she let the silence and scents of the place soak into her. This was her favorite time of day. Before they opened. Before any of the staff arrived. When it was just her and the place she’d built.
Some people didn’t like bars when they were empty. With the lights glaring, you could pick out all the scars on the bar and the rough edges of the walls. The tables were stark instead of inviting. Pretty colors didn’t twirl across the dance floor, beckoning you to take risks and try moves you possibly shouldn’t.
Monique, one of her oldest friends, often said the place was a little creepy when it was empty. Too big and...bare.
Tucker liked it because it was all hers.
An ugly purple and yellow bruise had bloomed over her cheek, but she’d managed to cover up the worst of it with makeup. Not that she particularly cared. She just didn’t want to deal with the questioning looks and raised eyebrows it seemed to cause.
Her ankle was a little more troublesome. She’d bought a thin bandage brace, which was helping, downed several ibuprofen and forsaken her fancy heels—she really missed those extra few inches—for a pair of brown and teal cowboy boots that offered a little more support.
She’d try and take it easy tonight. Last night had been long and crazy. It had felt like everything that could go wrong did, capped off with the realization that the drugs Finn had found were apparently the same ones she’d discovered in the bathroom. The bag must have fallen out of her pocket when she got knocked on her rear in the fight.
Which was both good and bad.
Maybe the problem wasn’t as bad as Finn seemed to think. Either way, he’d taken the drugs and hopefully disposed of them as he’d said he would. At the moment her best option was to view the situation as one less thing on her to-do list. And, with any luck, tonight would be less insane. Although it was a Saturday, so she wasn’t holding her breath.
For right now, she needed to get the place ready. Tucker walked behind the bar and began taking inventory of what she needed to replenish from the back stock room. They’d gone through a ton of whiskey and vodka last night. She also needed several cases of beer.
She was lost in her own world and the familiar minutia when a loud knock echoed through the place.
Tucker frowned. The last thing she wanted to deal with was some idiot who thought she should be open merely because he was ready to start drinking.
Grabbing the stun gun she kept tucked behind the bar, she headed for the front door.
It was made of old, solid wood she’d found at a flea market, and she’d commissioned a local artist to carve it into a door, adding the bar’s logo to the scarred surface. She loved that door. It was one of the first things she’d had made when she decided to open the place.
The only downside was that she couldn’t see who was waiting on the other side. And since it was possibly one of her staff instead of an idiot customer who couldn’t read signs or tell time, she flipped the locks and pulled the door open several inches.
She should have let them pound away.
Standing on the other side, were two officers, their badges already out, ready to flash in her face. And behind them stood Finn McAllister, Duchess sitting prettily at his side.
“Hi, Tucker. Can we come in?”
She should have known he’d come back to haunt her.
“Considering your friends, I’m going to guess I don’t have much choice in the way I answer that question.”
“No, ma’am,” one of the officers said, his voice apologetic. “I’m Officer Dade and this is my partner, Officer Simmons. We have a few questions for you.”
With a sigh, Tucker swept the door open, gesturing them inside with the business end of her stun gun.
“Please put the weapon down, ma’am,” Simmons said, his hand already sitting on the butt of his own gun.
“Don’t worry. I’ll put it away behind the bar. I might not be thrilled to see you standing at my front door, but I’m not about to shock you. A girl can’t be too careful, though.”
“No, ma’am.”
Tucker turned and started walking through the bar, doing everything she could to hide her limp. For some reason, she didn’t want Finn to know her ankle was still bothering her.
“Finn, make yourself useful and lock the door behind you, would you?”
One of the men snorted, but she wasn’t sure which one and didn’t particularly care to find out.
Slipping the stun gun back into its hiding place, she spread her arms wide along the business side of the bar. “Can I offer you gentlemen a drink?”
“We’re on the clock, but appreciate the offer.” Dade declined with a subdued smile.
She hadn’t expected them to accept, but she was wise enough to make the offer anyway. “Then let’s skip straight to why you’re here. I’m sure Mr. McAllister notified you his dog discovered some drugs here last night. It won’t surprise you to hear that happens sometimes in this business, despite my best efforts to eliminate it. I don’t condone drug use. And, unlike other bars, neither I nor my security team look the other way when it happens.”
Officer Dade nodded his head. “That’s good to hear. But this isn’t simply a case of someone partying too much.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
Officer Simmons chimed in. “The bag Duchess discovered contained enough crystal meth to qualify as possession with the intent to distribute.”
A heavy pit opened up in her belly. “You’re telling me this isn’t just college kids looking to have a good time. Someone was dealing inside my bar.”
