Vera was already through the door, and Jack held it open for me. “Us, apparently.”
“My apologies for this night in advance.”
Jack winked at me. Earlier, I’d told him all about Tyler Carr’s nasty behavior in high school, and we’d mapped out a plan of questioning.
We sauntered into the restaurant. It was a sports-themed place, with a wall of televisions playing various ball games. Framed posters of women in bikinis were everywhere, and the entire room smelled of fried food. Something happened in one of the sports ball games and a gaggle of men at the bar cheered and hooted.
I hated it already. But if I had to endure a bunch of sports bros, I would in the name of wings. And defending my sister.
“He’s back there,” Vera said excitedly.
We wound our way around the bar, took a left, passed six booths, and at the very last one, near the restrooms, sat Tyler. It was hardly the best seat in the house, and I couldn’t help but think he didn’t want to be seen with us.
“Hey, baby,” he said in a deep voice, standing up. “How’s my best girl?”
Vera threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. I nearly retched when I saw him smack her butt.
Jack must’ve sensed my annoyance because he put his hand on the small of my back and leaned into my ear. “Remember, good cop, bad cop.”
I grunted in response, partially out of annoyance and also a bit out of pent-up lust. Jack’s voice was low, growly, and held the promise of things I hadn’t experienced in a very long time. It was like the audio version of salted caramel, and probably as bad for me.
“You remember my twin sister, Maggie, right?” With her arm still slung around Tyler’s neck, she turned to me.
“Hey.” I gave a little wave. “It’s been a while.”
“Maggie! It’s great to see you.”
“And this is Jack. He’s Maggie’s date.”
The two men shook hands, and I noted with no small amount of satisfaction that Jack was far more muscular—and handsome—than the smarmy Tyler. Then I immediately felt guilty. This shouldn’t be a competition between my sister and me. I was merely fishing for information. If Tyler was indeed free of political corruption and any involvement in Gene’s death, and if he treated Vera well, I needed to accept their relationship.
Until those details were confirmed, though, he was guilty until proven innocent in my mind.
We all slid into the booth, Tyler and Vera on one side, and Jack and I on the other. I noticed that my sister sat incredibly close to Tyler, as if their hips were fused.
There was a foot of space between me and Jack, and I scooted away from the wall, a few inches closer to him. Had to make this look real.
“So, I hear this place has wings,” I joked.
“Best wings in Florida,” Tyler said. He slid a stack of menus to the three of us.
I pretended to study the laminated menu. “I guess that’s why you wanted to come all the way here, instead of one of the nice restaurants in Wahoo.”
Vera shot me a warning look over her menu. It was going to be difficult to keep my mouth shut and play the good cop. After all, Tyler was the one who stole my backpack freshman year and dunked it in the boys’ bathroom toilet, then returned it to my locker.
We made small talk about the menu for about five minutes, then we all ordered.
Jack got the six-piece habanero mango wing combo. I ordered eight atomic wings, because Vera and I loved super-spicy food.
I thought she was going to order the spicy Cajun platter, but Tyler talked her into a double order of plain wings. No spice, no BBQ sauce, nothing.
“It sounds delicious,” she squealed.
I narrowed my eyes at her. Normally she liked ghost-pepper hot. Melt-your-face-off scorching. Mouth-mangling fire.
Fortunately, the server brought our drinks—we all agreed on sweet tea, plus I needed to stay sober for the questions—and then we stared across the table at each other with tight, awkward smiles.
“So how does it feel to be back in Wahoo, Maggie?” I had to hand it to Tyler. He had a slick smile.