“Are you a man of your word, Skeeter Malcolm?”

He laughed. “You are a piece of work, aren’t you?” He put his feet down and leaned on the desk with an elbow. “Let me give you a piece of advice, Rose Gardner, because if you’re gonna get your feet dirty, a tiny piece of fluff like you needs to be prepared: No one is a man of his word. Not Bruce Wayne, not that sheriff’s deputy you dated, and not that fancy pants assistant DA you’re living with who’s gunnin’ to bring me down, and last but certainly not least, not me.”

I tried to stifle my gasp.

“Don’t look so surprised. Hell yeah, I know all about you. Scooter calls me up and tells me Bruce Wayne wants to bring his new boss by to get my help, you can bet your ass I did some digging. How do I know this isn’t some big setup so your new boyfriend can get a feather in his cap?”

My pulse pounded in my head. “I’d give you my word, but apparently that’s about as worthless as a three-dollar bill.”

He laughed again. “I like you, Rose Gardner.”

“Enough to work with me?”

“First you have to prove you’re not workin’ with your boyfriend. And your word doesn’t count.”

“Skeeter,” Bruce Wayne said, sounding nervous. “She ain’t. I know her and she went out of her way to hide the fact she was coming here from him.”

“Why me?” he asked. “Why not just ask your boyfriend to get the money back? Or hell, I’m sure he’d give it to you.”

“Even if the police or sheriff’s department find my money, it may be confiscated or held as evidence. And since I didn’t record serial numbers, I can’t even prove it’s mine. dpg - And I won’t ask Mason or anyone else to plain give me money because this business is mine.” I was getting angry, which wasn’t a smart thing to do with someone like Skeeter Malcolm, but I was tired of people expecting me to just rely on a man to solve my troubles. “Bruce Wayne and I have worked our hinies off to build this business up and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let some low-life crooks take it from us. I want what’s mine and I’m offering you information that will serve you. It’s a win/win, Mr. Malcolm, and I’m not going to waste my time by trying to prove diddly squat to you. You may claim no one’s word is trustworthy, but I’m telling you that mine is. You either take me at my word or you tell me to walk out the door.”

He stared at me expressionlessly for a long moment, and I worried I’d pushed him too far. I needed his help, but I also preferred to leave this place alive and in the same shape in which I’d arrived.

Skeeter turned his gaze to Bruce Wayne. “Where’d you find her?” He sounded amused. “She’s something else.”

Bruce Wayne swallowed and nodded his head, his face pale. “That she is.”

“Fine,” Skeeter said, leaning back in his chair again. “I like you, Rose Gardner, so I’m going to take you at your word and work with you.” His face hardened. “But if I find out you double-crossed me, I’ll hunt you down to the ends of the earth and make you wish you were dead. Understood?”

My breath stuck in my throat and I forced out a breathless, “Yes.”

“Good.” He grinned again. “Now that that’s settled, let’s get down to business. Tell me what you know.”

“I know there’s at least four of them.” The interest in his eyes suddenly had me worried. What would Skeeter actually do to these guys if he found them? Why hadn’t I thought about that part?

“Go on.”

I was already rushing headlong into this madness, and it was too late to turn back now. “The guy with the SpongeBob mask at the bank was named Mick. I saw the face of the second guy with the Batman mask, but I don’t know his name. I looked at a bunch of mug shots but never found him, so there’s a good chance he doesn’t have a record. Then there’s two more. The third guy has a brown beard and bushy eyebrows. He smokes. And the last guy—I know he’s one of four guys, but I’m not sure which. Or it could even be Samantha Jo Wheaton, but I doubt it.”

Skeeter pursed his lips, looking impressed. “Anything else?”

“One of them drives a gold Charger that belonged to Mr. Sullivan, the bank’s loan officer, and another had a black pickup with a long scratch down the side. I’m certain that Mr. Sullivan was part of all this, but he wanted out. Mick killed him because he was worried he was goin’ to talk. On the afternoon of the robbery, the black truck turned down the road where Mr. Sullivan’s body was later found. Mr. Sullivan hadn’t shown up to work or called in sick that day. The robbers have been meeting at the abandoned fertilizer plant and they’re pooling a bunch of money for something big on Friday. I’m guessing it’s the auction.”

“How do you know all of this?”

I folded my hands in my lap. “I just do.”

“You just do.” He shifted in his seat. “That’s not good enough, Rose. I need to know where you got your information.” He stood and walked around the end of the desk, sitting on the edge in front of me.

I worried I was gonna throw up on his jeans. “I saw the Charger out the bank window and then I saw it again on Sunday. It turned into the fertilizer plant. The truck was there too and I’d seen it turn down the farmhouse road.”

He leaned closer until his face was in front of mine, his minty breath blowing in my face. “And the rest? I know for a fact that those guys wore masks the entire time they were in the bank. I have my sources. And how do you know they’re pooling money or that they killed the loan officer to keep him from talking?”