Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 49416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
“You've never let me down,” I say. “And that reminds me, I want you to be sure to have somebody double check the roof access is locked every night. Someone forgot last week and I caught a few people up there.”
Caleb scribbles the note down on his checklist, nodding. “I'll handle it.” He smirks at me. “I know that’s an owner-only privilege.”
“Fucking hell,” I grumble, shaking my head. “I never should’ve told you.”
“Don’t say that,” he fires back. “I’m proud of you for doing something for yourself for once. Now if you could only get your mystery girl to meet up with you—”
“Yeah, yeah,” I cut him off, trying to act casual when I feel anything but.
My fingers itch to reach into my pocket for my phone, already excited to send Kitten one of our daily texts. That night two months ago on the roof haunted my dreams in the best way. Sex has always been fun, but with her?
It’d been electric.
Addicting.
And once she returned my text a couple weeks after that night? I’d been hooked on her personality too. She’s the complete package, and I don’t even know her name.
I resist the urge to text, not wanting to wake her up since it’s still only seven in the morning. I know she gets up early for work—not that she's ever officially told me her profession, lest it take away from the mystery—her words, not mine—but I figure it’s still too early.
Caleb heads off to handle some of the items on his checklist, and I pull out my tablet, opening the email from Senator Casson. After officially hiring me yesterday, he’d sent over an email packed with information about his daughter and anything he had on the ex-patient of hers who was stalking her.
I do my best to focus, shoving thoughts of Kitten out of my mind in order to ground myself in the task at hand. This assignment will be six months, maybe more if I don’t handle the situation quickly. I spare a split second to silently grumble about the way this assignment will interrupt my daily flirtation with the girl who stars in my dreams every night. I can’t be texting her on the job like I can here at the club, but it’ll be fine. Knowing her, she’ll understand, and it’ll make connecting with her every night after the job is done that much sweeter.
I read through Senator Casson’s files, noting the patterns I've seen in several stalker cases I’ve worked before, though this one is a bit more personal since he’s an ex-patient.
“Anything interesting?” Caleb asks, returning with the checklist ticked off in full.
“Stalker case. Daughter of a senator. She’s a therapist. Stalker is a former patient,” I explain, having already gotten clearance from the senator to do as much. Caleb doesn’t just run my nightclub when I’m away on assignment, he’s also my go-to tech guy. Seriously, I’m good with computers, but he’s next level and assists me on cases if I’m ever in a jam.
“Damn, that’s a juicy one,” he says. “Need me to run background checks?”
I shake my head. “The senator’s team already provided me with the details there. But he told me the stalker is slippery. No one, not even the local police, can track him down. He still shows up to the daughter’s place of business regularly though to leave notes. I may need you to try and locate him if I hit a wall.”
“I’ll be here,” he says. “But this should be easy money for you,” he continues. “Big, scary, salty motherfucker like yourself…” He gestures to me, and I cock a brow at where he points to the tattoos running down my neck and beneath my shirt, and over my arms. “He’ll take one look at you and realize the shit he’s pulling isn’t worth it.”
I grunt. “We’ll see.”
I've covered a case like this one before and it only took a week for the guy to back off permanently. A week and a stern…talking to from me that is. This could be the same thing, but the senator isn’t messing around. He paid in full for the six months with our contract open-ended for negotiations at the end of that timeframe.
Understandably, he wants his daughter protected, and the fact that he’s up for reelection and embarking on a campaign tour only makes her a bigger target. It’s a smart move on his part, and I can only hope that his daughter agrees. Far too many times I've been hired this way, and have to fight tooth and nail with my clients to cooperate.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I immediately pull it out.
Kitten: Gregory says good morning.
The text comes with a picture of a black and white tuxedo cat, the feline practically smiling up at the phone where he sits proud and regal on the concrete, his usual morning breakfast haunt outside of Kitten’s office. I have over a dozen pictures of this fucking stray cat in my phone thanks to her.