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maybe dancing or seeing a movie. A guy who comes home every night for dinner and doesn t work
strange hours with stranger people. The kind that smiles and laughs at her jokes and her friends think
is a catch. That s the kind of guy Rayne should be with.
Tanner pursed his lips, seeming to ponder Dare s description. What about a man who would
protect her? Put his life on the line? What about a guy who would never look at another woman and
tell her she was beautiful every day? Those things are important too. A woman doesn t need a court
jester, Dare. And you wouldn t believe the hours she ll put up with as long as you show her she s the
most important thing in the world to you. You re selling yourself short.
Dare couldn t take this personal crap any longer. This wasn t the kind of conversation that he
relished and he wanted to put a stop to it sooner rather than later.
I m fucked up, Tanner, he growled, exasperation in his tone that he couldn t hide and frankly
didn t want to. Let me repeat that. Fucked up. Hell, my issues have problems. I m no good for
anyone and that s the God s honest truth. If Rayne Dunn had a lick of self-preservation she d run from
me faster than the roadrunner from the coyote. I don t even know how to be happy, for fuck s sake.
You re right, Tanner smiled easily. You re a mess. Not like me when I met Maddie. My life
was completely smooth and totally under control. So was I, for that matter. In fact, I m practically
James Bond.
Everyone knew how fucked up Tanner s life had been so he was obviously pulling Dare s leg. It
didn t change things though. There were degrees of fucked up and Dare was off the charts.
I get it. You had problems. I have problems. It s not the same thing.
Tanner gave him one of those Yoda looks that all the guys talked about but never wanted to be on
the wrong side of. Serious philosophy was about to spout from the man s lips and Dare s only choice
was to stand there and take it like a man.
I don t know why you re afraid to let yourself be happy, Dare, but I m sure there s a story there.
Probably one that has to do with a painful childhood and terrible memories. You think you re not
good enough to be loved and so on. Well, whatever. Here s the thing and listen very closely, okay?
You re not a child anymore. You re a grown ass man. Whatever happened to you isn t a valid excuse
anymore. If it bugs you, get some help. If it doesn t then put it in the past where it belongs. But don t
let it be a reason to take the easy way out. Relationships and love are hard. They re work. It s easier
to be alone and feel sorry for yourself. Think about that next time you make some lame-ass excuse.
Now let s get back to work because all this personal bullshit is uncomfortable between two men,
goddammit.
Dare sure as hell wasn t ready to bare his soul. Not even to Tanner. Instead he scowled and began
to walk the grid again.
Uncomfortable is an understatement, Tanner. Let s decide to never discuss anything but football
and beer ever again.
But not talking about it didn t change a thing. Dare wasn t the right kind of man for Rayne and he
was only setting himself and her up for heartache later on. It would be far kinder to end things
now before she ended up hating him. He couldn t stand for her to feel that way.
* * * *
Tossing her gym bag on the bed in Dare s spare room, Rayne grabbed her change of clothes and
inspected what she had to work with this morning. A pair of white cotton panties, white cotton bra,
blue socks, blue jeans, and a beige cable knit sweater with a boat-neck. It wasn t high fashion but they
were clean and presentable. At this point she couldn t ask for much more. She was long overdue for a
wardrobe makeover so she d go shopping this afternoon. Buying clothes wasn t her favorite activity
so she tended to wear them until they were almost rags.
Folding her discarded clothes from last night, she shoved them back into the bag along with her
travel toiletries, her fingers rubbing a scrap of paper at the bottom. Sighing at her habit of keeping
receipts far past their useful life, she pulled it out intending to throw it in the small trash can next to
the bed, but quickly realized this wasn t a receipt. It was a drawing from the shop.
It wasn t a complicated design although it was visually interesting. It looked like a shield with a
line drawn down the middle. The right side was a drawing of an overflowing pot of gold while the
left looked a little like a dartboard. But it was whom it belonged to that had her hand shaking and her
heart racing.
This was the design she and the murder victim Patrick Moulson had discussed.
She d thought he d taken it with him when he left but somehow he must have slipped it inside her
gym bag, which had been placed on the counter. She d been hoping to make it to the gym but the shop
had become too busy. Instead she d thrown it in her trunk& and well, out of sight was out of mind.
She hadn t made it to a workout since.
Her stomach twisted in her gut but she knew deep down that this is what they d been looking for.
It had to be. There was nothing else he d given her.
Now what did it mean?
Rayne tucked the drawing in her pocket with the intent to take it straight to Dare but her phone
chimed instead.
Misty.
Hey listen, I need to get to Dare. I found something that might help the case.
Rayne continued stuffing her belongings in the gym bag and zipping it shut.
What did you find? Misty asked excitedly. I was actually calling because I heard about last
night. Are you okay?
Good news travels fast. I m fine but my house isn t. It s a wreck and I need to meet the insurance
adjustor there later this morning, but first I need to take this drawing to Dare. It s the design for the
shooting victim. It was stuffed in my gym bag and I didn t find it until this morning.
Holy shit. Do you think that s what they were looking for?
It has to be. What else is there? But it s just a design for a tattoo. Why would anyone care about
that? It isn t worth any money or anything. It s nothing to kill or die for.
Misty giggled on the other end of the line. You do make a good point. So send me a picture of the
design. I want to see it.
Perhaps Misty could make heads or tails of it. Hold on. Let me take the photo and send it to you.
Let me know when you ve got it.
Quickly, Rayne snapped the picture and attached it to an email. She waited without saying
anything while it flew through cyberspace.
Got it. Let me open it up and take a look. More silence. Hmmmm& kind of cryptic. It looks
like a coat of arms actually from my history class in high school.
I ll try and look up these symbols online. See if I can find anything on them.
The cry of a baby pierced the air and Misty sighed. I have to go. Lizzie has a cold and she d
been fussy the last few days, which means it s only a matter of time before we get it too. I just wanted
to make sure you were okay. Call me when you know something.
Will do. Give her a big kiss from her Auntie Rayne.
Hanging up, Rayne patted her pocket and grabbed the gym bag, heading downstairs. She needed to
see Dare as soon as possible. Maybe he could tell her what was so important about a stupid drawing.
Chapter Twenty-Five
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