Page 61 of The Moment He Couldn’t Walk Away

His sister continued to laugh as she picked up her phone to no doubt text her siblings.

“Anyway,” Dr. Hannah said, shooting Birdie a hard look, “I have contacted the base you were at, and they’ve sent over your records, so I need you to come in and we can check your symptoms to see if there is improvement.”

Why he was surprised she’d done that, he had no idea. The woman had always been thorough.

“I’ve improved.”

She smiled. “Excellent. Shall we say tomorrow at 10:00 a.m.?”

“Fine.” He sighed.

Jessie the hairdresser thankfully appeared, and he went for his haircut. Thirty minutes later he was out, with a neat beard and shorter hair. Of Nina, there was no sign. Should he go back to her room and say goodbye? No, that would raise questions. So he said goodbye to his sister. Amber was in there, dusting the reception area. That woman was everywhere; clearly, she was good at her job.

“That looks nice, Finch. You can see your lovely cheekbones,” she said, which had his sister giggling again.

“Thank you, Amber. That’s very kind of you,” Finch said, then went to kiss the top of Birdie’s head.

“Dinner at our place on Saturday night for Sadie’s birthday, Finch.”

“Okay. What do I bring?”

“Yourself and something pink for your niece.”

“Pink,” he muttered, heading to his pickup. He could manage that, surely?

Finch got in his truck and headed out of town, but instead of turning toward the McAllister land, he went in the other direction. It had been Jessie who told him that the Burns land was coming on the market for the first time in about a hundred years. It was situated next to the Reynolds’ land, down a long drive behind a bare grazing block, which Tripp now owned and kept horses on.

Jessie had told him the place was empty, as the Burns family had all moved south. Finch had money, he’d just thought to sit on it for a while, but lately he’d wanted to find a place of his own. He had no idea what he’d do with it, but the privacy appealed to him.

Stopping at the gate, he looked down the driveway. Two minutes later a patrol car pulled up beside him, and Dan Duke got out.

“Finch.”

“Deputy Dan,” he replied after lowering his window.

“Why are you loitering here?”

“Is the Burns land for sale?”

Dan studied him in that cop’s way he had, looking for answers to the questions Finch’s words had given him. “It is. Just came on. Leah and Hudson are over there now, feeding the chickens, which are the only livestock left on the place. Want to take a look?”

Finch nodded.

“Drive on, then.”

“You into real estate now, Deputy?”

Dan smiled, and looked more like the boy Finch’d once played with on school grounds, than the hard-ass cop he knew the man could be.

“Nope, but if I get you to buy it, Jay will owe me.”

Finch snorted, but the roar of motorcycles stopped him from saying anything else. Four of them rolled up beside Dan’s cruiser. A big guy got off and walked toward them, dressed fully in black leathers.

“His name is Walker, and he’s got a few of the locals liking him because he’s a smooth fucker. But Uncle Asher and I aren’t fooled. He’s just a slicker version of Grill,” Dan said out of the side of his mouth.

“Walker,” Dan said when the man reached them.

The biker looked from Dan to Finch, and then back again. “Deputy Duke.”