Chapter 1He looked like he was twelve.
That was Travis Stone’s first thought when Dustin Brooks came to stand by the driver’s side of the vehicle to peer in at him. At least Travis thought he was peering. It was hard to tell behind the FBI-style aviator sunglasses Dustin wore.
“You made detective?” Travis asked, admittedly rudely.
“I’m twenty-eight.” Dustin straightened up from having bent down to look into the department-issued SUV. Travis realized then he was actually tall. A few inches taller than six feet and taller than Travis by a lot and very nicely filled out in the muscles. Not that Travis noticed or anything. Okay, he did. But he still looked very young.
Brooks glanced around the parking lot and his gaze zeroed in on St. Nick’s Bar, the actual only establishment in this lot.
