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If her sharing a hairstyle with the founding fathers of the United States gave her an edge, she didn’t care what she looked like.
Well, almost didn’t care.
The urge to reach back and touch her ponytail on her nape that Ericsorudely referred to as her Founding Father’s hair was strong, but Alexia kept her fingers in her lap.
“I’m going to try a different approach with this guy,” she told her boss.
Eric looked down at his desk as if an answer were written there, some words of wisdom for meeting with a government-trained killing machine suspected of a revenge crime.
Finally, Eric sighed. “I know this is going to go badly. Why can’t you just settle for the phone call instead of meeting Tripp in person?”
She leaned forward and locked gazes with her boss.
“Because I want to look him in the eye and see if he’s lying to me about hunting down and killing his niece’s boyfriend.”
ChapterTwo
The grocery store speakers blared eighties music, making Tripp’s wait in the checkout line even more damn miserable.
He wasn’t an impatient man, but the lady at the front of the lane had been fishing change out of the bottom of her purse for the past—he checked his watch—two minutes solid.
An older man behind her had his arms loaded with cans of beans and bags of fresh tomatoes. Saltine crackers balanced on top of the pile. If Tripp had to guess, the man was making chili for dinner and he was getting sick of the woman too. When she plunged her hand back inside her purse to retrieve another coin, he let out a huff.
Tripp was fourth in line, and directly in front of him a young mother had a shopping cart packed clear to the top. A kid about the age of five clung to the cart handle. Occasionally he’d dangle by one arm like a monkey and stare unblinkingly at Tripp.
Even in street clothes of jeans and a T-shirt, he always felt conspicuous. He was big and tough. He tended to stick out.
When the lady produced another coin and passed it to the cashier, Tripp stifled a grunt. Why the hell didn’t the store have a self-checkout? He needed to get out of here before he blew his top at the customer who felt it important enough to use correct change she’d hold up an entire line.
The little boy dangled from the shopping cart again, wide eyes fixed on Tripp. “Are you a superhero?”
He gave the kid a slow blink. “No. I’m the villain.”
A huge grin broke over the kid’s face. “Cool!”
His mother turned. Tripp met her gaze. Read her scowl loud and clear.
He looked away and pulled out his phone to check his messages. He wanted to meet with the detective just about as much as he wanted to stand in this damn line. But what was the worst that could happen? Alexia Oaks couldn’t outman him or outsmart him. After all, she wasn’t a SEAL.
The only thing that really mattered was getting more evidence in Kelsey’s case. Since the day she was born, his role of uncle had been pretty much the only thing that truly mattered to him. Hehadto know the truth about what happened that terrible night.
The line moved forward, and the gentlemen dumped his armload of cans and tomatoes onto the conveyor belt. The kid swung from the cart.
And thankfully, another lane opened. Tripp shot into it and laid down the graham crackers, marshmallows and chocolate bars he’d been holding, along with a twelve-pack of decent toilet paper.
Luckily, the clerk was fast, and he had it all paid for and bags in hand in no time. As he walked out, his phone rang. He quickly brought it to his ear, but the call dropped.
“Fucking bad service.” He strode across the parking lot into an open area that might not be blocked by the building to get a few more bars.
His phone rang again, only this time with a video call.
With the toilet paper tucked under one arm, and the bag balancing from his index finger, he accepted the call. A face popped up on the screen, and Tripp was suddenly staring into a set of beautiful light green eyes.
“Hello, Mr. Tripp. I’m Detective Alexia Oaks.” Her brown hair was drawn off her face. A light source from her left highlighted good skin and light freckles spattering her cheeks.
“You want to discuss Kelsey’s case?”
She nodded. “I’m not surprised you want to get right down to business. Yes, I have some questions about your niece.” When she spoke, he got distracted by her lips.
