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I pointed a finger at him and took a step in his direction, but the cop gently pulled me back.
“Ma’am, I’m going to need to see your ID, or we can keep this conversation going at the station.”
CHAPTERTWO
I couldn’t saythat riding in the back of a squad car had ever been on my bucket list, but now I could tick it off.
“I swear I’m not a bad person,” I told the cop.
“Said every criminal ever,” he responded.
I huffed. Whoever had stolen my wallet was going to pay! How, I didn’t know yet, but I would get creative. Sugar to their gas tank sounded like a good idea. I’d really be doing karma work with that one.
“Who goes business casual to a strip bar?” I asked as I motioned down to myself.
He looked at me through the rearview mirror and shrugged as if I had a point, which I did. It wasn’t a high-end strip club where you found Connecticut kind of old money hanging out. This was a Levis and a plaid shirt kind of establishment. And I was afraid that was me being too generous.
I stayed quiet after that because he turned on Main Street and my heart skipped a beat. A nostalgic feeling came over me. It had been so long since I had walked these streets. Going to Franny’s on my birthday for a special meal and getting an ice cream while I ran circles around the kiosk. I was so busy reminiscing, I almost forgot where I was. The cop parked on the side of the precinct and then opened my door.
At least I wasn’t handcuffed.
“Not much changed,” I mumbled too low for the cop to hear.
I followed him inside the police station, and the only reason I knew it had been remodeled was that it looked different from my elementary school trip. The cop took me to a room and then pointed to the table.
“Wait here, and one of the detectives will come,” he ordered, then left.
I was mad, but mostly embarrassed. If I needed more reasons to hate this place, this had just become a big one. Maybe if I had stuck around here longer, the cop might have given me some leeway. I had never been in trouble before, not even one detention, and now I was being detained for questioning. I’d always been a “go big or go home” kind of girl.
My life sucked.
My big break had blown away in that clusterfuck of a riot.
No, I couldn’t think like that. It wasn’t just my ass on the line anymore.
My head banged on the table when I heard the creaking of the door open and someone walking in. I didn’t bother to look up. My life was over. I heard the metal chair across from me scrape against the floor as whoever was there with me pulled it out.
“Are you okay?” the policeman asked with a gentle tone that surprised me. I’d been expecting more aggression.
“I swear I did nothing wrong,” I mumbled.
“If I had a penny for—"
“I’m different,” I barked, still not looking up.
“Then you were at the club trying to score or get some clientele?”
My head finally snapped up, and the first thing I noticed was how gorgeous the detective was. I knew this was not the time for these things, but this was coming from a girl who found her soulmate the day she almost got hit by a car.
He had brown hair with gorgeous chocolate eyes that looked warm. I didn’t remember ever seeing him around Sunny Pines. Then again, I was probably too “in love” to have noticed him.
I shook my head at my ridiculous thoughts before I answered. “Did you just call me ahoochie?”
The detective blinked as ifmyquestion had caughthimoff-guard.
Before he could reply, the door opened, and both the detective and I turned. There was a man standing at the threshold. He was slim, but tall, and had on a burgundy long-sleeve that was pushed up to his forearms, a pair of dark jeans, and black combat boots.
Gah, really? There was something extremely attractive about a man’s hands. It was stylish without even trying.
