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She pushedon as though he hadn’t said a thing. “His good name. But I also want to help you. You and your brothers, and Mac. I want to help you find out what happened to your sister.”
    Cole flinched, and every muscle in his body tensed. This wasn’t what he’d expected. An offer to “help.” She’d tried to keep him away from her father, and from the truth—had put out a restraining order, for fuck’s sake. Why the complete turnaround? What was she doing?
    â€œHow’re you going to help us?” he asked. “What do you have to offer now that your dad isn’t really . . . all there upstairs?”
    It was her turn to flinch. “I’m not exactly sure. We can visit him again. Try again. Maybe Mr. Palmer—”
    â€œPalmer isn’t having visitors,” he finished. “Won’t talk to anyone. Deac tried. Can’t get any info off the bastard.”
    She looked a little stunned by this. “Well, then Mrs. Palmer and their daughter—”
    â€œAre not working at the bakery.” He sniffed at her. “Albert Lee’s had to close the place until he can find someone else. Christ Almighty. You know less about this town than me, and I’ve been in Austin training for the past two days.”
    She bit her lip and looked like she was struggling internally. But after a moment, the hard lines around her mouth smoothed and she blinked at him. “We could find the boy.”
    A hum started deep in Cole’s gut. “What boy?” he ground out. Though he knew. He knew exactly who she meant. And when she’d said the word, his head had nearly exploded.
    â€œThe one who came to River Black,” she continued. “The boy your sister liked.”
    With gentle hands, he eased Belle off his lap. “How do you know about that? About him?”
    Her gaze fell and she stared into her coffee cup. “You asked my dad about him the day you . . . visited,” she nearly whispered.
    â€œThe sheriff remembered that, did he?”
    â€œHe has his moments.” Her eyes came up. They were wide and worried and confused.
    â€œAnd in those moments did he give you any clue who the boy was? Is?”
    â€œIf he had, I’d have already gone looking. I would’ve told you and your brothers.”
    He grinned darkly. “Really?”
    â€œYes, really.” She hesitated then. “You don’t know who he is, right? What happened to him?”
    â€œHappened to him?” Cole repeated with a snort. “Shit, Doc. No one even knew his real name. Cass called him Sweet.”
    â€œBut you tried to look for him . . .”
    He gave her a sharp glare. Years and years of looking, digging, asking, praying. Nothing. His mouth thinned. “What are you doing, Doc? And why?”
    She bit her lip. “What do you mean?”
    â€œThere was nothing you wanted less than to help me.”
    â€œThat’s not true. What I wanted—what I still want—is to keep my father safe and protected.” Her eyes tried to pierce the brick wall he’d erected. “But you believe he’s a part of Cass’s disappearance. That he knows something.”
    â€œOh yeah,” he said without hesitation.
    She blanched, but pressed on. “So I propose working together, instead of against each other. Sharing information. You want to find out the truth about your sister’s murder, and I want to prove my father had nothing to do with it.”
    Cole felt as if he’d been sucker-punched. It was the words “sister’s murder” that did it. Always did it. This woman . . . this woman who had fought with him, avoided him, treated him like a criminal—which maybe he was sorta guilty of—now wanted to partner up. He couldn’t imagine it. What? The Dynamic Duo of Death and Destruction?
    â€œWhat do you think?” she asked.
    â€œI think it’s