Page 125 of Lost Then Found
Miller scoffs, offended. “Of course I have a plan. Do I looklike an amateur?”
I lift a brow. “That’s a loaded question.”
She ignores me, already moving on. “We start with the health inspector. Get a read on her. See how much she’s willing to spill.”
I glance at her. “And if she doesn’t?”
“Then we make her.”
I let out an exasperated breath.
“Relax, Special Forces,” she says, patting my chest like I’m the one who needs to calm down. “Nobody’s getting tied to a chair in a dark room. We’ll just…apply some pressure.”
I narrow my eyes. “You say that like it’s better.”
“It is.”
I let out a low chuckle, shaking my head.
Miller nudges me with her elbow. “Look at us, working together like Sherlock Holmes and…whatever his partner’s name is.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Jesus, it’sWatson.His name is Watson.”
She snaps her fingers. “That’s right. I’m Sherlock, obviously.”
I give her a flat look. “Yeah? And what does that make me?”
Miller smirks. “The one who does all the heavy lifting while I take the credit, obviously.”
I huff out a laugh. “Sounds about right.”
She claps her hands together. “Alright. So when are we starting this little investigation of ours?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Good.” She crosses her arms. “No time to waste. We need to get the Bluebell back open as soon as possible.”
She’s right. The longer Lark’s shut down, the harder it’ll be for her to recover. I glance toward Old Faithful, the bare bones of what it’ll eventually become.
I wonder what my dad would think if he could see it now—if he’d call me a damn fool for trying to fix something this far gone, or if he’d just shake his head and say, ‘Boone, you always were stubborn as hell.’
Miller follows my gaze, tilting her head. She looks genuinely impressed. “Wow. This is…something.”
I let out a breath as I walk back over to grab my beer. “We’re working on it.”
She nods, stepping closer, eyes scanning the porch frame. “It actually has a lot of potential. Lots of character.” She points toward the newly built beams. “This porch is big. That’s exactly something Lark would love.”
“Don’t.”
She just raises her brows.
“Miller,” I warn.
She squeals. “You’re building her ahouse!”
I feel heat crawling up my neck, rushing to my face. “Basically, yeah. Eventually, it’ll be a livable, functioning house.”
Miller studies me for a second, then grins. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me, Booney.”
