The Bad Boy of Butterfly Harbor(34)

Luke handed over the second shake as a group of three boys sat with their backs to them on the brick patio wall, cigarettes burning and muted laughter mingling beneath the dull bass of an overstressed speaker system.

“Thanks.” Fletch took a long drink. “Same old stuff as far as I can tell. They come and go. Same group of kids, really. A few older ones who didn’t make it off to college when they should have. Mostly hanging out, giving each other a hard time.”

“Until they start migrating.” Luke shifted the backpack he’d found in the Flutterby guesthouse. “Give me your take on Kyle Winters.” Holly’s perspective had been helpful, but she didn’t see things from the law-enforcement angle.

“Kyle?” Fletch echoed with a raised brow. “Smart, clever even. That’s him in the thick of things. Gray hoodie, spiked blond hair. Was doing pretty well until the Pizza Barn shut down late last year. He’s gotten into some scrapes the past few months. Couple of fights, caught loitering in abandoned buildings, drinking, smoking pot. Reminds me of someone. Can’t think who, though.”

Luke didn’t have to look at his deputy to know the man had a smirk on his face. “Jake keep a file on him?”

“Should be in the computer by now. Why?”

“He’s one of the kids who’s been squatting at the Flutterby.” Luke nudged the abandoned backpack with his foot. “Left something behind when he took off this morning. I’m trying to get a bead on him before I return his belongings.” Maybe not all of his belongings.

“You’d be best to determine that.” Fletch took another sip, frowned at his cup. “How did I not know Holly makes mocha shakes?”

“They aren’t on the menu anymore.” Luke tried not to be too pleased by the fact Holly had made him one the second he’d hit town. Not that pleasing him had been her intention. Today’s had been served with a smile. Felt like a home run to him.

“So you and Holly... Anything there?” Fletch asked too innocently.

“No.” He’d thought about it, though. Far more frequently than he should. But Holly deserved better than a man with his baggage and defects. She deserved someone stable, someone normal, who could sleep through the night and not spend endless waking hours trying to avoid the nightmares of his past. Holly Campbell was entitled to be loved by someone who could give her everything she—and Simon—needed. And that, no matter how much he’d changed, wasn’t him. “Why?” Luke clenched his hands into fists. “You interested in Holly?”

“Nah.” Fletch’s snicker had Luke’s hands relaxing. “I was thinking it’s interesting how often she comes up in your conversations. She’s a knockout for sure. Never boring. Especially with Simon around. She’d be good for you.”

And almost killing her father was that added bonus every girl dreamed of. “Did I mention I don’t like my deputies to moonlight as matchmakers?” Luke said.

“You did not.” Fletch toasted him with his shake. “But noted. How about Abby...”

“Dating anyone is the last thing on my mind.” But if his thoughts did turn in that direction, it wouldn’t be to a blue-eyed pixie, but a dark-haired, curvy single mother who had every reason in the world to despise him. Luke shifted forward and peered out the windshield. “Who’s that?”

A dingy white rusted-out truck rumbled to a stop in front of the center. A middle-aged, blotchy-faced man with sun-bleached hair wearing a tattered black T-shirt and stained jeans shoved out of the cab and cut loose a stream of curses Luke had rarely heard, even during his time in the service.

“Rex Winters.” Fletch set his cup into the holder and unbuckled his belt. “Kyle’s father. If he’s out from under his rock, this can’t be good.” He pushed open the door, but Luke grabbed his arm.

“No. I’ll go. Stand by, though.” More than happy to handle this situation himself, Luke got out as a collection of teens scampered out of the way of Kyle’s barreling, bull-angry father. “Give Ozzy a heads-up.” Luke tapped his hand on the open window of the SUV. “We’re about to have our first resident in the drunk tank.”

“Roger that.”

If the appearance of Kyle’s father hadn’t sent Kyle’s friends scattering to the four winds, the sight of Luke heading their way finished them off as they hurried through plumes of cigarette smoke and dumped bottles into the overflowing trash bin.

The sound of skin hitting skin had Luke struggling to maintain his control as he watched a palm-size red welt appear on the side of Kyle’s defiant face.