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I wanted to punch something. Blake needed me, and I couldn’t be there for him.
She nodded. “I’m sorry. I don’t—”
I held up my hand. “Thanks for telling me.”
“Here’s your lunch.” She passed me the paper bag and drifted her gaze past me. “Hello, Timothy. You two have met, right?”
“We have,” I said tightly. The night we’d searched for Trish when—I couldn’t think about that. Yet another terrible situation I’d put someone in. “But I generally try to avoid law enforcement.” I offered a hand to the man in a perfectly starched uniform.
“Whitley.” His grip was firm when we shook.
“I bet you two have lots to talk about. Go sit. I’ll send Cricket out with yours.” She motioned toward a vacant bench.
We both looked at her strangely, but obeyed.
“Mind if I start without you?” I unwrapped my fork and dug in.
“Not at all.” He stretched his legs out in front of him. “Lot of talk about you down at the station.”
“Lucky me.” I shoveled food in my mouth and prayed he’d stop talking.
“Some people think it’s karma. You’ve gotten a lot of bad guys off.”
I snorted. “So I deserve this shit? Maybe they’re right.” Look at what I’d done to Trish by getting her ex-husband out on bond.
“I’m not supposed to like you, but Trish does, and I value her opinion.”
“My best friend got lucky to have her for a wife.”
“Damn straight.”
“My fan club is almost out of room, so don’t feel obligated to like me.”
He snickered. “Lot of haters from the looks of it.”
Cricket appeared, gave Timothy a wary look, and dropped his food on the bench between us. She scampered away without a word.
“Looks like you’ve got a hater too,” I observed.
His eyes trailed her all the way back to the food truck. “She’s not my only one either.”
For a minute, he didn’t move.
“This one affects you though.”
He shrugged. “You got a lawyer yet?”
“Yeah. I’ve got one.”
“He as good as you?”
“Better.”
“You’re gonna need it.”
I set down my fork. “There’s no evidence.”
“Just witnesses.”
