Chapter 4

"I don't trust him," Forrest repeated. Another word rolled around in his mouth before he spit it out like a sour grape. "Podcaster."

Nero Vik had finally departed after drinking his beer and eating his damn salad. Thank fuck. Vik made Forrest feel too many conflicting emotions at once. He'd accidentally caught a glimpse of him in the backbar mirror and had been snagged by his smile—which irritated him.

"He's very pleasant and well-mannered," Magnus said, ignoring Forrest's derision and continuing to wipe down the surface of the bar where Nero had been sitting. "Stops in every few days and has a beer and a burger. Doesn't strike me as a mass murderer. I had a listen to one of his shows, and he seems to know what he's doing. It's not as if he's hiding or lurking around corners and jumping out at people with a microphone. You should give him a break."

Wonderful. Now Magnus the Great was championing Nero Vik. And was also an expert on what mass murderers looked like. Pleasant and well-mannered. What did that even mean? Didn't everyone say that about their serial killer neighbors? Forrest glanced at his old friend again, and Magnus caught the look and smirked.

Smirked.

Wait, was Magnus giving him the side-eye? Was give him a break a euphemism? One never knew with Magnus. Or with Rufus, for that matter.

Could Magnus suspect that Forrest was both repelled and drawn to the hack podcaster? No. Just no. Wasn't going to happen. Forrest had some standards.

He suppressed a growl and focused on his drink, positive now that the look Magnus shot him had been loaded with innuendo. Good fucking god, the man was a damn busybody. The first person to spark Forrest's interest in months was exactly the wrong person, and Forrest wasn't giving in. He'd leave town soon, and Forrest could go back to being happy enough alone.

Vik would go away, disappear, leave Cooper Springs forever. Forrest didn't want him getting comfortable in town, making people—Magnus and Rufus, for instance—like him.

Making Forrest want him.

The Fucking Scales of Desire and Loathing were swinging so wildly one direction and then the other that Forrest didn't know what he wanted, really. Up from down, what the fuck?

Therefore, there was going to be nothing. This was good.

However, Forrest for sure didn't want Vik roaming around town and asking people questions, even if those questions had nothing to do with him. Because they easily could.

"He's an… ambulance chaser, a podcaster," Forrest repeated as if Vik was Satan himself. "He feeds on other's misfortune. Fucking bottom-feeder."

Some people's biggest fears were heights, spiders, or the monsters under the bed. They were the lucky ones. Forrest was afraid the monster living in the forest still lurked out there. Especially after Levi Cruz's sister disappeared last November.

No one had seen Forrest's parents, or anyone from their group, since they'd gone into the woods before Forrest was born. Well, except for Forrest and Lani, and Forrest truly wished they hadn't seen them. As far as he knew, no one had looked for the group either. Grandpa had said they'd made their wishes very clear. Surely if they were still alive, someone would have reported spotting them. He reminded himself about that one guy in Maine who'd lived in the woods for about the same amount of time, and no one had known he was out there, either.

It was possible.

The mere thought of Witt and Dina Cooper made his heart race and the palms of his hands get clammy, almost as if he might accidentally summon them from wherever they were now just by thinking about them. With any luck, it was hell for Dina. Forrest didn't know about Witt.

"Now, how do you know that?" Magnus asked calmly, bringing Forrest back to the present. Magnus still dragged the pristine bar rag back and forth. "As far as I know, you haven't given the man the time of day." He cleared his throat and the next words came out softer than the usual Magnus bellow. "Give him a chance, Forrest. I can tell you want him. I worry about you, and so does Pops. Grab the golden ring while you can because who knows when you'll meet someone like him again."

Forrest ignored the emphasis on day and the throat-clearing and sipped his lemonade before replying. "Nick did a little research for me. I don't trust him and I'm not giving him a break or a chance or anything else."

His old friend was right; Forrest hadn't given Vik the time of day. And he didn't plan on changing his mind.

Magnus's eyebrows rose an inch. "Oh, and our Nico is a glowing example of seeing things clearly and judging fairly?"

Magnus's teasing tone pissed Forrest off even more, counteracting the calming effect of his lavender lemonade. Maybe Nick Waugh was a bit of a hothead, but Nick cared. He cared about Cooper Springs and the people who lived there.

Forrest squinted at his lemonade again. Okay, maybe Nick caring about more than Martin Purdy was a bit of an exaggeration. He did care about the town itself, but not many of the residents made Nick's list. It was an attitude Forrest understood.

"And so what if he is a podcaster?" Magnus added. "He's providing a valuable service. From what I gather, he's helped solve a few cold cases already, and families were finally able to bury their loved ones. They have closure now. I think it's time you got over yourself and dealt with the past head on."

"He's only here for the gory details," Forrest insisted hotly, his ire rising again. He was pissed off that Magnus thought he could get over his past. Closure be damned. "The past can stay where it belongs. Forgotten and in the past. Don't forget he was also an investigative journalist."

Fuck, even he knew he sounded ridiculous and petulant.

And maybe scared. Not that he would ever admit that one out loud. Mostly because he knew as well as Rufus, Magnus, and anyone else who'd lived in Cooper Springs forever did that the chances of his parents being still alive and living in The Deep were almost zero.

Almost zero, but not quite. Dammit, these remains and Blair Cruz missing had him all tied up in knots.

Magnus paused his aimless wiping of the sparkling bartop to give Forrest another hard glance. "I think he will ask good questions. Questions that should've been asked years ago. What about the stuff up on the mountain? If the bones have family left alive, don't they deserve to know what happened? It's not all about you, Forrest. Have you ever considered that the past is overdue for a good rummage?"

Forrest felt his jaw slacken and his mouth gape. He wasn't sure which pissed him off more: the not all about you comment or the idea that a good rummage was needed. Both. Both pissed him the fuck off. Pissed him off more.

"A good rummage?" Forrest hissed back. He'd lost his tenuous grip on his temper. He leaned across the bar to get as close to Magnus as he could. To his credit, Magnus didn't step to the side or react at all. But then, Magnus had known Forrest most of his life. "You of all people—more than most people living here anyway—know what needs talking about and what can be left dead and buried."

Dead and buried. Fingers fucking crossed.

Frowning, Magnus shrugged. "Well then, you need to do something to control the narrative if you're so worried about the past. Me? I'm happy to have some fresh eyes in town. A neutral party, taking a look-see and maybe stumbling across something we've all been missing when it comes to these bones."

Magnus tapped the gleaming mahogany countertop with one fingertip while Forrest pressed his lips tightly together, stemming the angry tide of words that threatened to escape past them. Magnus was not his enemy. Nero Vik was the enemy. A sexy-as-fuck enemy—but still, the enemy.

Magnus had a point though. He wouldn't have any idea what Vik was up to if he shut him out. He hated that Magnus might possibly be right.

"If it makes you feel better, you can call it sleeping with the enemy," Magus added. "Get to know him, find out what he's looking for, be ready for it."

"I'm not sleeping with anybody," Forrest growled, distracted again when an image of Nero Vik popped into his head. All that long, wild, dark hair and those soulful eyes. "Especially not for information."

Magnus's eyebrows rose higher. "I didn't mean literally sleeping with, Forrest, but whatever floats your boat. Which, like I said before, maybe that's exactly what you need—a roll in the hay."

"Can you just quit with the sexual innuendos?"

Tossing the bleach rag aside, Magus shook his shaggy head. "Oh, for fuck's sake, Forrest, it's not innuendo." He snorted. "I just meant if you cooperate—admittedly, an issue even when you aren't worked up. Which suggests maybe you do need to work off a little sexual frustration. Vik just wants to talk to people. Maybe he won't want to talk to you at all. Maybe you aren't important to what he's doing." Magnus shot him an annoying grin. "That would be hilarious."

"Ah, fuck you."