Temptation Trails (The Haven Brothers #3)

He shrugged, like it was no big deal. “I saw you run into him from across the street and I had a feeling he’d be a dick about it.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you want another coffee?” He put up a hand. “I’m not hitting on you or anything. I know you’re dating my brother.”

Holding up my cup, I sighed. “No. With my luck, I’d just run into someone else and have twice as much coffee on my clothes.”

“Fair enough. It was good to meet you. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, you too.”

With a smile, he turned and walked back across the street.

I shook off the last bit of coffee still dripping from my hand and tossed my cup in a trash can. Thank you, mirror curse. I’d not only run into someone and dumped my much-anticipated latte all over myself, I’d run into a rude car thief. Luke walking by had been—dare I say it—lucky? But not enough to cancel out the bad luck.

Harper: zero. Broken mirror: about a million.

CHAPTER 19

Garrett

Cruising down the winding highway, I headed back toward town. I’d been out on patrol all morning, checking on some of the more remote areas of the county. Nothing much was happening. I’d noted an old truck with a taillight out and pulled him over just to let him know. Other than that, it had been a quiet morning.

I wore my aviators against the glare of the sun and my mind drifted as I drove. Town chatter about the Joyner case hadn’t died down. New leads were coming in, which would have been great, if they’d been legit. But mostly they were just wasting our time.

Brenna’s voice came over my radio. “Possible breaking and entering at 45 West Sunnybrook Lane.”

“Squad seven,” I replied.

“Go ahead squad seven.”

“I’m not far from that location. I can go take a look.”

“10-4, squad seven.”

“Proceeding to 45 West Sunnybrook Lane.”

I drove to the location and parked outside a small white house. On the porch, dressed in a pink housecoat, was a little old lady every first responder in Tilikum knew all too well. Mavis Doolittle.

I keyed my mic. “Squad seven.”

“Go ahead, squad seven.”

“Put me at 45 West Sunnybrook Lane, possible breaking and entering. But Brenna, this is Mavis Doolittle’s house.”

“That’s correct.”

Kade’s voice cut in. “Better you than me.”

I sighed. Mavis Doolittle was notorious for her questionable emergency calls. It had been a while since she’d called anything in, probably because the fire department had threatened to fine her.

“Maybe I need backup on this, Sheehan. How soon can you get over here?”

Kade chuckled. “I’m sure you can handle anything Mrs. Doolittle can dole out.”

“I’ll check it out. But, Brenna, this better not be a bogus call.”

“She was insistent,” Brenna said. “Said she came home from the salon and found evidence of a break in.”