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“You and Officer Starr are friends?”
“Yes.” She folds her hands in her lap.
I point at my chest. “She told you about—”
“Yes. She told me about meeting you a few times. It’s why—”
“You came here,” I finish for her, lowering into the chair across from her. My confusion slowly disintegrates, retreating from my seams and leaving me feeling ruffled.
“She was going to become a journalist but changed careers,” Chosen explains.
“So you investigate and report. And she serves and protects.” I chuckle.
“You could say that.” She nods with a small smile. “She knew about my uncle.” She peers up at me with a hesitant pause. “I told her everything back in college. We kept in touch, took vacations once a year together, and remained close friends. When she got the job here back in her hometown, she took it upon herself to use her resources to investigate the boys involved in my uncle’s death. Thought she could give me some kind of closure. She didn’t tell me about it until a year ago.”
“When she ran into me?” Okay. Now things are starting to come together.
“That’s right. It was during an interview she had with you at the hospital. You’d been stabbed.”
“Yeah.” I rub my chin, recalling my first encounter with Officer Starr.
Her brow rises. “An escort?”
I nod, convinced it’s not what a girlfriend wants to hear.
“She called me and told me about it. She also told me that Trace and Wally were dead and that Jenson was in jail.”
Fuck. It’s just like Cole always says; there are no coincidences. The encounter with Officer Starr led the woman of my dreams right to me. “And that’s when you decided to come here?”
“No. I wanted to, but I was in the middle of a story. I couldn’t leave. Then she ran into you again. I was finishing up the story, and that’s when I came.”
“How long have you been here?”
“About six months. Selina thought it best for me to settle in and start a new job. So I put a college student on you. He wasn’t much help.”
“You had some college kid following me?”
“Like I said, he didn’t get much.”
“But the escort service, you could’ve—”
“The police know about the escort service.”
“What?”
“Yeah.” She waves me off with a flick of her hand. “Selina told me about it. The police look the other way. It’s not as if you’re doing anything illegal, right? These women invite you to their homes. You’re there to give them a ride. And you have a permit for the gun you carry, right?”
“Yes.” It’s not a lie. I have a concealed weapon permit, but my gun isn’t registered. I’m not about to have that conversation with her. Not right now.
“Then there’s nothing they can do. I looked into it already.”
“You did?” What the hell?
“Yeah, when I first got here. The only way you could get arrested is if you hurt someone. Or shoot them. I assume you haven’t shot anyone, and the men you may have gotten into a scuffle with aren’t running to the police to file a report. Not for what called you to their home in the first place. I understand how you’ve gotten away with it for five years. Still, it’s not safe for you or your brothers.”
“We’re fine,” I say. The dangers of what we do have always been an issue regarding having a girlfriend. I’m sure Brett and Cole deal with it on a daily basis. I never had to worry about it. Now I do.
“Knife wounds, dead men in apartments, and crazed lunatics at the domestic center don’t sound fine. And what’s the restraining order Harper needed all about?”
