AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“So am I ever going to hear the story of what a detective is doing working with the feds?”
“Sure, over a beer one night.”
Kara wasn’t here to make lifelong friends, but a beer with her temporary partner might be a needed diversion later on.
But Marcy just looked at her quizzically, as if she wasn’t ready to settle for that answer. Maybe she had a point. They were thrown together on this case, they knew nothing about each other, and if Kara was in that position, she’d want to know more as well.
“It’s a long fucking story that pisses me off every time I tell it,” Kara said. “Short version? I put a bad guy in prison, he lied about how it went down, someone important believed him, he’s out pending trial but had plenty of time to put out a hit on me. Going back to LA right now isn’t really an option. I helped Costa’s team with an investigation, they thought I did a good job, so here I am.”
Kara slid into the passenger seat of the department-issued Bronco without waiting for a comment. Yes, she was still angry. Yes, she wanted to go back to her life and LA and the way things were. But that was foolhardy, along the lines of unicorns and Santa Claus type of fantasy.
Marcy checked her gear, then jumped in and looked at her. “Long version over beers?”
“Sure,” Kara said, though she really didn’t have more to say. “And then I expect your story of how a big-city cop adjusts to tiny-town America.”
“Fair enough.” Marcy headed east toward the waterfront. “Pete Dunlap owns the Fish & Brew, a couple blocks up from the harbor. Tourists come in, too, but it’s a favorite among locals. If you like fish and chips, best in the state—not just on the island. Small menu but everything is good. If you don’t like fish, the hamburgers are the bomb.”
“Now I’m hungry.”
“I already ate lunch, but I’m happy to get you something.”
Kara laughed, pulled an energy bar out of her pocket. She’d grabbed three from Ryder’s stash because she didn’t know how long she’d be out.
Marcy grimaced. “If I don’t have three meals a day, I’m crabby.”
As soon as Kara walked into the Fish & Brew, she knew she’d be back. This was just the type of pub she gravitated toward. Rustic, dark—but not too dark. Sports on the televisions, a full-stocked bar, large selection of microbrew beer, and virtually every seat with a view of the entrance or rear exit. She might come here tonight alone. She didn’t think it was all that far from the house the FBI was renting.
Kara didnotlike the idea that everyone on their team was sleeping under the same roof. She needed her privacy. Kara had lived on her own since she was eighteen. Even before she was eighteen, she’d had little supervision and a lot of freedom. She didn’t even have her own apartment in DC yet—Matt’s boss, Tony, had set her up in a short-term rental while she looked for a place. She felt like she was in limbo, and being thrown in with her team—living in the same damn house—she felt invisible walls closing in on her.
The longer she lived with this new situation, the more she regretted agreeing to work for the FBI.
Don’t lie to yourself. Working for the FBI was your only option if you wanted to continue being a cop. And if you’re not a cop, you’re nobody.
“Great, isn’t it?” Marcy said.
“My kind of place,” Kara agreed.
Marcy walked over to the bar and motioned to the bartender—thirtysomething, light brown skin, short black hair, hazel eyes, and well-defined muscles. “Damon, this is Kara Quinn with the FBI. We’re here to talk to Pete and the girls. He’s expecting us.”
“He’s in his office, you know where that is, Marcy. Go on back.”
As they walked through the pub, Marcy said, “Damon is Pete’s brother-in-law. He had a football scholarship for college, shattered his leg senior year. Too bad, because he was good, everyone said. But he’s also smart, graduated and now teaches math at the high school in Bellingham, works for Pete in the summers when the pub is busy.”
“Young for a teacher.” If all Kara’s teachers were that young and handsome, she might have liked high school a lot more.
Marcy laughed. “I think he’s thirty-two, thirty-four, somewhere around there. We go to the same gym. There’s not a lot of options on the island. There’s a CrossFit gym, and a regular gym. Damon and I do CrossFit. You should join us while you’re here.”
“I’m not a gym rat unless it’s raining,” Kara said. “I’m more of a runner.” And not so much running as jogging. Alone.
“I know the best places to run.”
Great, Kara thought.I don’t want a running buddy.
But she didn’t say that.
The office door was open. Pete was in his forties, had a darker complexion than his brother-in-law, kept his curly black hair very short, and wore thick, black-framed glasses as he perused a stack of invoices on his desk.
“Pete, hello,” Marcy said. “Thanks for agreeing to talk to us.”
