CJ rested her hands on his arms. “If this is about me, as you suggest, the killer will try to get to me no matter where I am. Look at Carter. He was locked away inside his home in a gated community and the killer still got to him. I have to do this, Braddock. It’s important to me.”
He exhaled a heavy breath. “All right. But Jenkins will be armed, and you aren’t to leave his sight. We’ve got two uniforms watching Nash’s house, so they’ll be close by as well.”
CJ nodded. “Thank you.”
Braddock hugged her, then kissed her forehead. “I’ll check in with you every couple of hours. There will be a cruiser out front. And Jenkins is on the porch.”
She nodded.
Then he kissed her lips. One of those slow, sweet kisses he was so good at.
She wanted this investigation over.
For the first time she wanted a real life. And she wanted this man to be a part of it. On what level, she didn’t know just yet. But she wasn’t letting go of what felt like a good thing.
One her sister had recognized way before CJ had.
Maybe there were a few things CJ could learn from her sister’s life.
Live for the present ... not the future.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Dallas Mill District, 7:10 p.m.
Where the hell was that bastard?
Tyrone paced back and forth in the warehouse.
He’d come in alone, just like he’d been told. Well, he appeared to be alone. That would have to be enough.
Tyrone wasn’t a fool. He never went anywhere alone. He’d sent his two most trusted men, two-thirds of his trinity, here to take up positions an hour before his scheduled arrival. His driver waited in the Escalade.
Wasn’t nobody pulling no shit over on him. Too many dead bodies piling up lately.
“What the hell?” he muttered as he checked his Rolex. The man was supposed to have been here at seven sharp. It was ten after.
Too damned dark in here. Couldn’t hardly see a thing. He’d left the loading dock doors open wide enough to let some light from the street filter in, but it was still too damned dark.
A rusty creak echoed in the darkness.
Tyrone turned toward the sound, tried to see through the dark.
“That you, asshole?” He was done playing games.
A rolling sound told him the dock doors behind him were being pushed closed. He whipped around. The narrow beam of light from the street disappeared as the door slammed shut.
He snatched the pistol out of his waistband. “You don’t want to pull no shit on me,” he warned. “I have the video.Youare screwed if you mess with me.”
A footstep, then another ... coming closer.
Shit. What the hell? “You better talk to me before I start shooting.”
A click echoed and a blinding light hit him square in the eyes. Tyrone tried to shield his face with his hand.
“Where’s the video?”
“You got the money?” Tyrone demanded.
