Tin God by Stacy Green

everywhere else but at him.
    Cage cleared his throat. “He’s long gone. Jaymee got sucked in by this greedy Davies bitch, Wilcher, and whoever they were working with.”
    “Royce Newton,” Nick said.
    “Maybe,” Cage said. “We’ll have to talk to Charles and–”
    “No.” Jaymee’s shout reverberated off the metal walls. “You can’t. We don’t have any proof. I don’t want to get Detective Charles involved until I have to.”
    “Why?” Cage asked. “He’s a good cop, Jaymee.”
    “He’s not going to do a damned thing without proof except maybe interview my father, which is the last thing I want. Please. Not yet. Let’s figure out what Royce knows–if anything. Nick’s an investigative reporter. He can get something out of him. I’ll help.”
    “Jaymee…” Cage began.
    “I want to help.”
    Nick cocked his head, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Jaymee didn’t flinch as he sized her up.
    “You’re too close,” he argued.
    “And you’re not?”
    He ran his index finger over his bottom lip and then tapped the corner of his mouth. “All right. I wanted to talk to Royce Newton. Now I know what the topic of conversation will be.”
    “Goddamnit, Nick,” Cage said. “You’re not a cop. You’re already withholding evidence with that letter. You think Royce Newton’s just going to tell you if he and Debra Davies were involved in illegal adoptions? And how are you going to get by Fat Jonas?”
    Nick looked down at Jaymee. She nodded, a silent understanding passing between them, and he faced Cage. “Jaymee here needs to pay her respects, of course.”
    “No way.” Cage pulled on Nick’s arm.
    Nick yanked out of Cage’s grasp. “I need to talk to Royce Newton. She can get me inside.”
    Jaymee glanced at Cage. His expression was unreadable, but pain reflected in his eyes. He missed his sister. The bastard that killed her needed to be brought to justice. And Jaymee owed it to Lana. “Cage, please.”
    “Fine.” He shoved the trailer door open. “You’d better be damned careful. But I want to talk to Jaymee in private before we leave.”
    Nick nodded and then glanced at Jaymee. “What time can I pick you up tomorrow?”
    “How’s 10:00 a.m.?”
    “Perfect.”
     
    Jaymee didn’t want to deal with Cage right now. Tension pounded at the base of her skull, and her knuckles hurt from clenching her fists. She watched Nick’s long strides as he headed for the car, stiff shouldered and head down. She couldn’t imagine what he was feeling.
    Behind her, Cage cleared his throat. Jaymee sighed and turned to face him, leaning against the now closed door. “Go ahead.”
    “Why didn’t you tell him everything?”
    She ran her fingers across her damp eyebrows. Her chest was tight from heat and stress. “He doesn’t need to know everything.” Until they had real proof, Jaymee wasn’t going to divulge any more to Nick–or to anyone else.
    “You’re going to have to tell him.” Cage’s tone held more than irritation. His hurt was barely disguised. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about Debra Davies–that you and Lana actually had a name to search for?”
    “Because I didn’t think it mattered. After Lana died, I just wanted to forget. And if she couldn’t find her, why involve you?”
    Cage shook his head. “Because I’m your friend.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    Cage glared across the trailer at her, but he dropped his crossed arms and heaved a sigh. “I hope you know what you’re getting into.”
    So did she. “I’ll be fine.”
    “Please be careful.” Cage gave her a tight, one-armed hug. Jaymee stayed for a beat and then pulled away. Keeping the line between friendship and the love Cage wanted made her feel cruel, but she refused to mislead him. It wasn’t fair.
    “I will. I can handle Royce, and Nick will be there.”
    A flicker of pain flashed in Cage’s dark eyes. “I know.”
    He stalked out of the trailer leaving the words hanging between them.
    Cage’s