“So do you, Miss—er—so do you, Rose.”

I gave him a nervous smile, giving a quick glance to my brown skirt and cream ruffled shirt. I’d decided on brown heels and a cute leather jacket at the last minute. This time, I was going for professional, not slutty. “I wasn’t sure what a person should wear to a meeting like this.”

A slow grin spread across his face. “You didn’t ask Neely Kate?”

“Shoot, no. She would have insisted on coming. Two of us is enough, I think.”

“So no one knows we’re here?” he asked in an ominous tone.

I cocked an eyebrow. “I can call Deputy Simmons if you’d like.”

He laughed. “Somehow, I think that’s a bad idea, but so is going in with no one knowin’ where we are.”

I took a deep breath. “I’m starting to have second thoughts about this whole thing.”

“Like I told you, Rose, I’ll go alone.”

“No,” I pulled out my phone and started a text to Neely Kate. “Together or not at all.”

Bruce Wayne and I have an appointment with Skeeter Malcolm in two minutes.

Her reply was almost instantaneous. What???

I’ll explain later. If you don’t hear from me in half an hour, text me.

I turned my phone to silent, stuffed it in my purse, and looked up, steeling my back. “Okay.”

Bruce Wayne led the way and opened the glass door to the building, letting me through. The place was nearly empty, with only a couple of guys in the back playing pool and the bartender. Bruce Wayne pushed past me and walked up to the bar. “We have an appointment with Skeeter.”

The bartender glanced up from wiping out a glass. He looked me up and down, then turned his gaze to Bruce Wayne. “He’s expecting you. Go on back to his office.”

Bruce Wayne shot me a glance and I lifted my mouth into a tight smile. When he headed for the back room, I trailed behind. The guys playing pool looked up and one catcalled. Bruce Wayne tensed, but he kept right on moving, heading through a dark doorway and down a dimly lit hall, stopping in front of a door marked Private. He paused a moment, then knocked.

In response to a gruff order to “Come in,” he swung the door open and walked into the room, blocking my view.

“Bruce Wayne. I have to say this was a surprise,” Skeeter said. “Introduce me to your friend.”

He moved to the side and I saw Skeeter sitting behind a large wooden desk. He was a good-looking man with an imposing presence. Dark hair framed his face and he’d shaved off the short beard he’d sported the last time we saw each other. He wore a long sleeved T-shirt that clung to his muscles and a hint of his many tattoos peeked out from under his collar. He stood when he saw me, a slow grin spreading across his face. “And who do we have here?”

I moved closer, surprised Bruce Wayne hadn’t told him I was coming. “I’m Rose Gardner.”

A sly grin lifted one side of his face. “Oh, I know who you are. I was just wondering if you’d tell me the truth this time.”

My face blushed and my heart raced out of control. “I intend to be completely straightforward with you, Mr. Malcolm.”

“Good.” He gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat. I’m eager to hear what you have to be straightforward about.” As Bruce Wayne and I moved toward the chairs, he lowered into his. “And call me Skeeter. I’m nowhere near civilized enough to be a mister.” He laughed and leaned an elbow on the arm of his chair while watching me settle in my seat. “Let’s not mess around with all the polite nonsense of most business dealings. Why don’t we cut right to the chase?”

“I agree.” I took a deep breath and shot a glance to Bruce Wayne before I continued. “I was in the Henryetta Bank last week when it was robbed. They stole my deposit bag, which held a great deal of cash. My insurance refuses to cover it and the bank’s insurance refuses to pay up because I didn’t actually make the deposit. I need that money.”

His eyes narrowed in confusion. “So you need a loan?”

“No. I want my money. I’m nearly positive the robbers still have it.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“I think they robbed the bank and then Big Bill’s because they want to bid on Crocker’s business.”

He laughed and leaned back on his chair, kicking his feet up on his desk. “Well, now. That’s an interesting theory. I’ve heard you’ve been like Henryetta’s very own Nancy Drew since Crocker killed your momma, though, so maybe you know something I don’t.”

I stayed silent, unsure how to answer.

“What makes you think your theory is correct?” He waved to Bruce Wayne. “I mean, if Bruce Wayne walked in here and told me that, I wouldn’t just hand him a bunch of money.” He turned back to me, his eyes turning cold. “So let’s cut the bullshit and be straight about what we each want. You want your money back and I want Crocker’s business. How can we make sure we both walk away from this happy?”

I took a deep breath. “If I give you useful information, will you help me get my money back?”

He chuckled. “Sweetheart, if you can help me get to these guys before they outbid me, I’ll put you on my damn payroll and call it a bonus.”

I gave him a nervous smile. “That’s not necessary. I just want my money.”

“We’ll start there and leave the door open to future business dealings.”