“We’re undercover. You can’t tell anyone.” His hot forceful voice is less exciting in this scenario.
Stopping my gaze is a badge sitting on the dresser. I should have known better than to think I could find fun in Whispering Pines.
Rushing down the hallway, I turn toward the front door but photographs and papers strewn over the dining room table lure me closer. Who are they?
Blake and Lennox flank me on either side, trying to stop me.
“Don’t touch me.” I shrug them both off and step closer.
They rush forward, shuffling everything into messy stacks. It’s too late. I recognize the locations in the photos, some taken from where they were parked last night when I found them on the side of the road.
The ones with my reclusive customer Ofelia going into her barbershop puzzle me. “You were on surveillance? “You think she’s a criminal?”
A phone on the table rings then switches to voice ID. “Call from The Boss.”
Using their preoccupation, I run out the front door, straight into my car, and in two minutes I’m at Trena’s apartment complex.
Rushing from the car to her unit, I yell toward her spot by the pool. “Trena!”
By the time she catches up, I’m in her bedroom, shoving her clothes into a suitcase.
She stops in the doorway. “What are you doing?”
“Helping you pack for Eggplant Canyon.”
Wrestling me for her clothes, she gets me to stop. I drop onto her bed.
She sits beside me. “What happened? We need to bury a body or two?”
A sad laugh is the best I can do. “Not advisable. They’re cops.”
“What?” She wraps an arm around me. “I don’t get it. Are they here for work? To arrest someone? You?”
This laugh is a little brighter. “No handcuffs for me. I think they’re here for the loner chick who says she’s going to renovate the old barbershop.”
“The one we assume makes her money from Only Fans?”
“That’s the one.”
“She’s a criminal?” Trena’s as stunned as I am.
“They have surveillance pictures of her at the barbershop.”
Trena backs up to her headboard and pats the pillow beside her. I follow. She says, “Back up a second. How do you know they’re cops?”
I catch her up with everything I know, repeating the claim that they’re undercover. If I remove the shock value, it’s not entirely impossible.
They hung out in weird places. They couldn’t have me over to their house. They’re only in town a short time. Geez, I should have known better than to think a developer would be interested in Whispering Pines. I see how reactive I was. Not totally unwarranted, but Trena will one hundred percent call me out. “Go ahead,” I say.
“What?”
“Tell me I overreacted. Tell me I have a right to be mad. I don’t know. I’m so confused.”
“Do you think they’re really undercover cops?” Trena kindly gives me credibility.
“If they are, they wouldn’t be able to tell me, right?”
“Unless you saw too much. There’s a point where denial only makes things worse. Or maybe because they care about you.”
