Love Under Two Detectives Cara Covington (warren buffett book recommendations txt) 📖

potatoes, which she scrubbed and poked and then popped into the oven. She loved them baked, and by leaving the foil off, the skins became a bit crunchy and when scooped out made perfect little bowls for a dollop of butter or sour cream. Yum, yum.

Anthony showed he had quite the hand at biscuit making, and Toby amassed the fresh veggies she had on hand to put together a large salad.

Since they all more or less liked their steak cooked the same way, medium well, they grilled it as a single entity and then divided it once it was ready.

“I’m glad we decided to do this instead of going out,” Mary said. She liked how it felt, having these two men with her, sitting between them. She felt safe and secure. She no longer felt alone, and maybe just that was the biggest plus of all.

“We would have been here sooner,” Toby said. “But Grandma Kate asked us to stay behind.”

Mary nodded. That was exactly what she’d thought had happened. “She and Aunt Samantha likely want you to help a bit in the planning of what comes next,” Mary said.

“You’ve got a first-class mind, cupcake,” Anthony said. “That’s exactly what they wanted. In fact, she had made a formal request to our chief of police earlier today. For the next couple of weeks, we’re to help here where we can.”

“Did you bring your overnight bags?”

“Not without talking to you first.” Anthony set his fork down and picked up her hand.

“We can book a couple of rooms at the B&B. In fact, we were offered that.” Toby met her gaze. Then he picked up her other hand. “We told Aunt Samantha we’d let her know later tonight whether or not we needed them.”

“We haven’t talked.” Anthony rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “We don’t want you to feel pressured. This afternoon…” He sighed. “That meeting was an emotional gut-punch, for all of us.”

“I’m not feeling pressured. My only concern is that you might think I’m using you as a means of my making myself feel safer, and more secure, because I’m scared.”

“Oh, please, use us.” Toby’s smartass had just poked its head out of its gopher hole. His quick grin felt…normal.

Both men chuckled. She smiled.

“Men are different from women,” Anthony said. “Which you well know. If we go and get our things and come back here, we’d be moving our schedule up—not doing something we hadn’t already tacitly agreed to last night.”

“You’re right. That was what we’d tacitly agreed to last night. While you go get your things, perhaps I should stock us up on supplies.”

“We have a better idea,” Anthony said.

“Come with us, and we’ll do it all together. Go to Waco, grab our stuff, and then get some food and whatever else we’ll need.”

“I like the sound of together. Let’s clear up these dishes and head out.”

“It bodes well for all of us that we’ve each, apparently, been bitten by the neat-freak bug.” Anthony looked downright pleased by that. Mary could definitely understand that attitude.

Then, because she was Mary, she tilted her head and sent them what she felt was a sexy look. “I am a neat freak when it comes to my living space, but there is at least one area where I like things to be good and messy.”

“I think I speak for us both,” Toby said, “when I say, we can hardly wait to find that out.”

* * * *

He looked at his watch. He’d have to make a note that on Monday, February 3, 2020, pure shit luck officially joined his side of the battle.

About damn well time. His life had been fucking destroyed because of someone else’s good luck. It was only right that, now, it was his turn.

He pulled his car to the curb across the road from the apartment building. He’d been driving the streets of Waco, Texas, spinning his wheels for nearly a week. He’d put out feelers, as much as he could, considering he came to town a stranger. He’d known he was close but had no idea where, exactly, he should be looking.

Well, there was the obvious, of course, but he wanted to stay away from the local cop shop.

He used the binoculars he’d picked up at the pawnshop. Tonight, his quarry was no longer just that one cursed person. There were three of them, together, and this was the second stop they’d made since they’d passed him and he’d seen the face he’d been looking for…forever, it seemed. He’d kept his eyes on that gray Lincoln and had pulled a U-turn, right there in broad daylight. He considered all three of them to be his targets, now. They appeared to be more than casual acquaintances. They’d been sitting close in the car, and they’d walked close going into that apartment building. For the sake of expediency, and the ease of planning—his planning—they were interchangeable now. One target in particular might prove to be the right one. He’d have to wait and see.

That could work even better to his advantage, if he played it right. Of course I’m going to play it right.

He was patient, because they all went in together, and the guy who’d had the suitcase coming out of the first place they’d stopped had clearly left it in the car. They’d likely be back, and sooner rather than later.

The moment that the three of them disappeared inside, he opened the small black bag sitting on the passenger seat. It looks just like the kind of small bag a spy might carry. That was the job he should have set his sights on—when you worked for one of those three letter agencies, you could do whatever the fuck you pleased.

He wanted that life, where he could do whatever the fuck he pleased. And he was claiming that life, because he was taking his first solid steps toward what he wanted most right now—revenge.

I’ll show them. I’ll show them all.

He pulled his cap down