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There was only the hint of a reprimand in his voice, as if he was used to dealing with Hayden and Ruben’s antics.
Jack Harris was probably in his mid to late fifties, hair salt and peppered, his jaw squared and shaven, though there was a bit of a shadow that covered his face. He had that distinguished look, a tailored suit and keen eyes. There was no question in my mind that he’d won a few votes based solely on the fact that he was incredibly handsome.
He was clearly a town celebrity, affirmed in the way the furor rippled through the restaurant when they’d walked in for lunch.
“We just want to make sure she feels welcome,” Hayden said, his attention on me.
“Well, I definitely do,” I said with that grin.
Hayden wagged a finger my way. “I got it. Texas…but the city.”
I might as well have had Texan tattooed across my forehead with the way he nailed it. I cringed that I was so obvious. “Wow, you really are good.”
“I can guarantee you I am.” His eyes twinkled with greed, and there was no missing what he was alluding to.
“Hayden.” That time it was a distinct rebuke from the mayor.
But it was the fiery darts I could feel flying from the booth three down that truly penetrated. I peeked that way to find Hot Cop staring over at us, his jaw clenched so tight I thought there was a chance that he might jump out of the booth and come storming our way, like he’d heard every suggestion come out of Hayden and he had a massive problem with it.
Talk about a massive problem.
My wrist tingled where he’d held me, and the memory of the way I couldn’t help but play into the attraction came back at me full force.
“Maybe I do want to keep an eye on you, Little Trespasser. Maybe I like looking at you.”
“I think you need to ask yourself just how closely you want to look, Officer Patterson.”
God, I wasn’t supposed to feel this.
This well of interest that had sprung in the pit of my stomach.
I wasn’t supposed to care or get involved. Putting yourself on the line like that only got you hurt. Left your heart on the chopping block. Mine had been flayed enough by betrayal after betrayal that I knew I had to guard those last tattered pieces with everything I had left.
But I guessed maybe it was his heart—his pain and his grief and his own tattered pieces—that he’d put out there for me to see that had touched in a place that I shouldn’t let them.
The man was a widower, for God’s sake, and I was still shivering from the tension that had curled around us like an unstoppable force.
It was something that could get way down deep in my veins if I was foolish enough to let it.
I had to be careful. Ignore everything but my single purpose.
I turned back to the men at the table, reminding myself that I couldn’t trust anyone in this town, but also remembering that any one of them could have information on Jessica. I just had to wait to act. Be smart about it.
Because if the journal was legitimate? If it was about Jessica and she was afraid? If she was in trouble and the last text she’d sent me was a lie? Then if I started asking questions and the wrong person caught wind of it, any information on Jessica would get locked down tight before I had the chance to really start.
“Well, it’s great to meet you all, and I can’t wait to get to know you better.”
I made sure to keep my focus on Hayden when I said it.
ELEVEN
EZRA
Sunlight pushed at the blinds that covered my office window, a few rays breaking through the generic slats and cutting into the murky dimness of the room. Motes danced in them, playing through the quiet and the peace.
Only I wasn’t sure there would ever really be any peace.
Not with the way my stomach was a gnarl of knots and my chest was a riot of hate and animosity.
It was funny how it took one moment in time…one incidence…one atrocity to reconfigure who we were. I’d always been a firm believer in mercy. In second chances. Hoping to reform those who’d gone astray because it wasn’t like a single one of us could claim that we hadn’t made mistakes.
I supposed it was why I went into law enforcement. Hoping to make a difference. To show those struggling that there was a better way.
My teeth ground as I forced myself to open the file folder sitting on my desk.
Grief slammed me.
Sweeping me off my feet and dragging me out into a torrid, violent sea. Consumed by dark, dark waters.
When I finally ferreted the monsters out, there would be no mercy or compassion for the ones who’d committed this abhorrent crime. Not when I thirsted for retribution, my spirit gnawing with the ache for revenge.
