Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
I went back to the styling floor to find Daisy Potter waiting with her seven-year-old son. “Can you cut his hair?” she asked. “I promise he’ll be good, and he won’t squirm around.”
“Of course,” I said, grabbing our seating block from the corner. I placed it on the chair so that little Tommy Potter could climb up. As I cut his hair, my mind kept wandering back to the cash van.
I didn’t care what excuse Lena and Katrina could come up with—there was no convincing me that what we had just done was legal. For starters, where was the paper trail? And that driver with the neck tattoo, where had he come from? I was furious with myself for having been so blind as to never question it before. I wanted to storm back into the office and demand an explanation, but I knew that would only blow Jason’s case wide open. I had to wait until I got home that night to see if he had learned anything. If anyone was hurting people in my town, I wanted to help put a stop to it. But why did it have to be my boss?
The end of the day couldn’t come fast enough. Lena left at five, and I was alone from five to six. When I was finally able to clean up and lock the door, my hands were shaking. I wasn’t afraid but desperate to get home and unload all my suspicions. When I pulled up to the cabin, I exhaled a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. Jason was there. His truck was in the driveway, and that meant that we could have a long debriefing session.
When I walked in the door, I found him in the kitchen. He was dressed casually in jeans and a button-down shirt. A kitchen towel was tossed over one shoulder, making him look almost like a husband. I pushed that thought away, closing the door behind me.
“Hello,” he said. “I made spaghetti.”
“Great.” I was starving. I had been panicky all day and ignored my hunger for most of the time.
He scooped up two plates of noodles, and we sat at the kitchen island. It was nice. Not once in my life had I ever come home to a hot dinner waiting for me. If we weren’t supposed to be in a relationship, at least we could have this. At least we could do nice things for each other, like cook and talk.
“The cash truck came today,” I said as soon as I had swallowed enough pasta to calm my stomach.
“I know.” He nodded. “We were there.”
“I didn’t see you,” I said.
“That’s the point.” He winked.
“What did you think of the van? And the driver?”
“Driver looks like he spent some time in prison,” Jason speculated, “but we didn’t get a hit off his face yet.”
“You got a picture of him?” I was too excited to finish my spaghetti.
“We got pictures of the whole transaction.” He pointed to my unfinished plate.
I picked up my fork again.
“Including pictures of you helping out.” His words cut me deep, paralyzing the food on its way to my mouth.
I set the bite down. “I wasn’t helping out. I couldn’t think of a good excuse. The owner and the assistant manager weren’t in today. Ava wasn’t in. I was the only person there, and she asked me to help. I couldn’t say ‘no, I think you’re involved in something criminal.’”
“I understand,” Jason said. “I’ll make sure to put your cooperation in the case notes. I just wanted you to know so it doesn’t come as a surprise.”
I picked up my fork. “Let’s talk about something else.”
He finished his meal and stood up to put his plate in the sink.
“I’ll do the dishes,” I offered. “Since you cooked.”
“It’s fine.” He shrugged. “There aren’t that many.”
I sighed, searching for a safe topic of conversation. “Tell me about Nashville.”
He grabbed a beer from the fridge, one of the ones I had bought on my shopping trip. He held it out to me as if to ask if I wanted one. I shook my head. He unscrewed the cap and settled back down in his seat.
“Nashville,” he began. “I only ever saw the worst side of it. I was in narcotics and vice for a while.”
“Vice?” I asked. “Is that like prostitution?”
“And human trafficking. A lot of the women we saw weren’t given a choice.”
“That’s horrible.”
“Crazy thing is I didn’t realize just how much it was affecting me until I came here,” he said. “I saw Dillon go from eager to burnt-out in a matter of weeks. When his partner died, you could see Dillon lost all taste for the job.”
“Dillon’s partner died?” I asked quietly.
He nodded. “Shot on the job. Neil was his name. I knew him too, though not as well. When something like that happens, you start reevaluating the choices you’ve made. Neil left behind a wife and child.”