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“It’s time to ask yourself a question and really search deep for the answer, Bell.” I swallow past the tightness that surfaces in my throat and threatens to choke me, but I can’t do anything to stop the tear that escapes and trails down my face. “What kind of story do you want your book to be? A tragedy? Or one with a happy ending? It’s ultimately your choice. You are the author after all.”
11
After a rather sleepless night, that I spent alone for once, we’re headed out to look for more answers. The guys are exceptionally quiet this morning, everyone lost in their own inner turmoil. Thinking that Alanactuallyhad something to do with those casings going missing has slammed a torrent of stabbing rain down on our parade.
Burying our heads in the sand is not going to get us anywhere if we want to solve this. Sighing, I pull my phone out of my pocket and bite the metaphorical bullet. It rings only once before my contact answers.
“Izabella. To what do I owe the pleasure this time?” Scarlette's voice is–as always–a seductive purr down the line, bringing a small smile to my face.
“Scar, my beautiful, beautiful bitch. How’s it hanging?”
“Well, they aren’t sagging yet. I think I still have a few more years of perky assets before I have to pay for a lift. How are yours doing?”
“Still holding up for now.” I chuckle down the line at her, a large grin on my face. Just talking to Scarlette seems to bring me back to myself. I feel my defenses strengthen, the cracks in my armor filling in with every second we speak. “Any news on my stalker?”
“None.” She suddenly sounds annoyed, her voice turning sharp. “I swear to the gods, he must be a ghost. None of my bitches are able to find anything!”
“Eh, no worries. I figured it was a long shot. Even the precinct is struggling on this one. EvenIam.” As much as I try to dissuade her frustrations and–I’m sure–guilt at her not being able to help me out, I know it’s pointless. If Scarlette feels like she’s failing, she freaks. The woman is nothing if not determined and shealwaysgets her answers.
What is that feeling in my chest? Yup, I’m feelingbadfor her. When did I start actually caring?
“I know. But, no offense, darling, I’m better than that entire force of detectives put together. This shouldn’t be an issue.”
“Don’t I know it. But if anyone can help, I know it’ll be you!” So I might be stroking her ego a bit, but I need to. Scarlette is usually a well put together badass, but every once in a while she’s like a cat that’s gone feral; I have to use protective gloves when handling her. “So, anyway. I do need another favor from you, if you have the time?”
“Why, of course, babe! What can I do for you?” Her voice immediately perks up in excitement, and I smirk. This will definitely help her feeling of failure for sure.
“Alan Richards. I’m sure you know him.”
“Oh yes, mister sexy salt and pepper, the one with the swimmer’s bod. We’ve met. Don’t you work for him?” She tries to hide the intrigue in her tone, but she fails. I know she has a thing for him. Not that she would date him, just toss him around in the sack a bit.
Okay, gross. I don’t need that visual.
“That is him, yes. He allegedly had a car accident a couple weeks ago, do you think you could look into it and confirm? Check all records or calls. Whatever it is you do. I need the details.” I almost wince with every word I speak. It hurts to finally be taking action on our suspicions revolving around Alan.
“You got it, babe.” Scarlette doesn’t ask any questions or pry for answers and I love her for it. I don’t think I could voice it to someone outside of my little circle without a full blown breakdown at this point.
“Thanks, Scar. I look forward to hearing from you!” I make a move to hang up, but her voice stops me.
“Was operation furry a success on that one guy? What was his name? Arlington?” My blood freezes and my heart stutters to a stop before picking back up, though far quicker and more frantic in its rhythm.
“Oh, uh, yeah. It was. Thanks.”
I hang up before she can say anything else, willing my heart rate to slow back down. Putting my phone away, I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans and busy myself by picking my cane up out of the foot well and flipping it in my hands.
He’s dead. He can’t hurt me now.
“We’re here.” Ezra’s deep voice seems to calm me on the spot, pulling my attention from my panic and giving me something solid to focus on.
“Perfect timing!” I unbuckle my seatbelt as the truck comes to a stop and let out a low whistle for my babies to stay with me as I open the door.
Cold air slaps me in the face as I hop out, the sting of it made all the more shocking by the heated interior of the truck, and I start shivering immediately. I really freaking hate the cold, and autumn here is so goddamn fickle. One day it’s seventy and sunny and the next, forty and at risk of snow. It’s terrible and you never know what to expect. Especially because the weather forecast is a load of crap.
“What exactly are we looking for here?” Kai hops out of the back of the truck and joins me on the curb, his arm snaking around my shoulders, rubbing warm friction on my upper arm.
“I’m not exactly sure. But…I figured if the stalker has something to do with my crash, maybe he has to do with my dad. It’s a long shot, but…eh, it’s worth a try.” I lean into his side as Ezra comes up beside me. The chill around me instantly warms, the combination of Kai’s proximity and Ezra’s large frame blocking most of the wind.
“Well, let’s hurry up and do this then. Bass says the place isn’t guarded anymore, but who knows who might be snooping around in this dump.” Nic’s voice is practically a sneer as he judges the state of the neighborhood. I can’t see it, but I know it’s gotten bad over the years.
