Until now.
He sighed. Why had he ever thought his current predicament was a good idea? He was terrible at keeping secrets.
Case in point, he was about 75 percent sure his brother Brady had figured out that Tucker accidentally stumbling into a situation where he could help save Brady’s life from one of their father’s protégés wasn’t so accidental. That it was part of his working beyond his normal job as detective with the Valiant County Sheriff’s Department.
And, since their youngest brother had been kicked out of North Star Group just a few months ago, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what group Tucker might also be working for.
He was going to have to quit. The North Star Group had approached him because of his ties to Ace Wyatt, former head of the dangerous Sons of the Badlands, and a few of Tucker’s cases that involved other high-ranking officials in the Sons.
Cases Tuck had been sure were private and confidential. But those words didn’t mean much to North Star.
They’d wanted him on the Elijah Jones investigation, but then Brady and Cecilia Mills, one of the Knight girls, had gotten in the way.
The only reason Tucker hadn’t been kicked out of North Star, as far as he could see, was because the North Star higher-ups didn’t know his brother and Cecilia were suspicious of Tucker’s involvement.
Which didn’t sit right. Surely they didn’t think his brother, a police officer, didn’t have questions about a mysterious explosion that took Elijah Jones down enough to be restrained, hospitalized and, as of today, transferred to prison.
It had been a mess of a summer all in all, but things would assuredly calm down now. Ace was in maximum-security prison and Elijah was going to jail, along with a variety of his helpers.
But as long as Tucker was part of North Star and their continued efforts to completely and utterly destroy the Sons of the Badlands, he wouldn’t feel totally settled or calm.
The back door that came into the kitchen swung open—not all that unusual. Grandma Pauline always had people coming and going through this entrance, but Tuck was surprised by the appearance of a very angry looking Rachel Knight.
She pointed directly at him, as if he’d done something wrong. “What’s going on with my dad?”
Tuck stared at Rachel in confusion. She looked...pissed, which was not her norm. She was probably the most even-keeled of the whole Knight bunch.
While her sisters had all been fostered or adopted by Duke and Eva Knight, Rachel was their lone biological daughter. She didn’t look much like her father—more favored her late mother, which always gave Tuck a bit of a pang.
His memories of his own mother weren’t pleasant. He’d had Grandma Pauline, who he loved with his whole heart. Her influence on him and his brothers when they’d come to live with her meant the world to him.
But Eva Knight had been a soft, motherly presence in the Reaves-Knight world. Even if she’d been next door and not their mother, she’d treated them like sons. He’d never seen anything that matched it.
Except in her daughter. Tall and slender, Rachel had Eva’s sharp nose and high cheekbones and long black hair. The biggest difference were the scars around Rachel’s eyes, lines of lighter brown against the darker skin color on the rest of her face.
She could see, but not clearly. It always seemed to Tuck that her dark brown eyes were a little too knowing.
At least on this he wasn’t keeping a secret—and failing at it. He had no idea why she’d demand of him anything about Duke Knight.
“Well?” she demanded as he only sat there like a deer caught in headlights.
“I haven’t the slightest idea what’s going on with your father. Why would I?”
“I don’t know. I only know it has something do with you.”
By the way she flung her arms in the air, he could only assume she didn’t mean him personally but the whole of the Wyatts.
“Why don’t we sit down?” He took her elbow gently to lead her to the table. “Back up. Talk about this, you know, calmly.”
She tugged her elbow out of his grasp, clearly not wanting to sit. “He doesn’t want me teaching this fall. He’s worried about our safety. I know it doesn’t have to do with my family. So, it has to do with yours.”
Tucker held himself very still—an old trick he had down to an art these days. Letting his temper get the best of him as a kid had gotten the crap beaten out of him. Routinely.
Ace had told him his emotions would be the death of him if he didn’t learn to control them. Hone them.
Tucker refused to hone them or be anything like his father. Which meant also never letting his temper boil over. He pictured a blue sky, puffy white clouds and a hawk arcing through both.
When he trusted his voice, he spoke and offered a smile. “I guess that’s possible.” He didn’t allow himself to say what he wanted to. Your sisters seem to be getting my brothers in trouble plenty on their own. “I’m not sure specifically what it could be that would have Duke worried about you teaching at the rez. Did something happen? Maybe Cecilia would know.”
“What would I know?” Cecilia asked, walking into the kitchen. She was in her tribal police uniform, likely on her way to work. Though she was still nursing some wounds from her run in with Ace’s protege and hadn’t been cleared for active duty, she’d started in-house hours this week.
Though Duke and Eva Knight had fostered Cecilia, like Rachel she was a blood relation—Eva’s niece. But she had been raised as “one of the Knight girls” as much Rachel’s sister as her cousin.
“Has there been any new trouble at the rez that might make Duke nervous about Rach teaching her upcoming session?” Tucker
