Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 128307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“You better keep me updated on your findings, Grayson, or I’ll...” It takes me around three to four seconds to come up with a threat, and it is weak. “I’ll tell everyone at the bureau that you volunteered your sperm for my surrogacy.”
I’m forced to mull over a decision I made months ago when he replies, “Might not have been a lie if you’d ever worked up the courage to ask.”
I had considered asking him numerous times if he would be a donor. I was freaked out because a stranger’s sperm would be inside me, but my supervisor told me I was being ridiculous. It was the same supervisor who booked me for an abortion when I learned the step B plan hadn’t worked.
As we drive back to the apartment, a mix of frustration and relief bombards me. I need to be out there investigating, but I also need to prioritize looking after myself and the baby. It is a debilitating deliberation that breaks and mends my heart.
When we reach the apartment, Grayson guides me inside before making sure I’m comfortable on the couch. “Do you need anything? Water? A snack?” Sparks of the man I’ve had a crush on for years shine through when he murmurs, “A long-range rifle?” He waggles his brows when my eyes light up at his offer before he gives me the next best thing. He hands me Cameron’s file. Her real file. “While you work on that, I’ll find out what’s happening with Samuel’s charges.”
He waits until I approve his offer before he disappears into the kitchen.
Something about Cameron’s case doesn’t make sense. Grayson’s reports are meticulous, and his witness statement sprang tears to my eyes many times. But something is still off. I can’t put my finger on it. Call it intuition or a hunch, but my Spidey senses are tingling out of control more now than they were when I first went over the details of her case.
Since I am worried that I’m deflecting my guilty conscience about the erotic dream I had about Grayson onto Cameron, I push aside my worry and focus on the facts. Grayson believes a baby-making syndicate abducted her, so that’s all I need to give my all to this case.
My head lifts from the forensic report of the burned-out van when I sense I am being watched. Grayson is standing in the doorway of the kitchen, eyeing me cautiously.
Upon noticing that he has gained my attention, he joins me in the living area. I expect it’s about Samuel’s bail, so I’m surprised when he goes in a different direction. “Is there something you want to ask me?”
“No. Why?” My voice should convey disdain at how easily he reads me, but it only expresses awe.
I take a mental note to learn how to school my features better when he exposes that he’s continuously profiling. “Your nose is doing that twitchy, confused spasm it only does when you’re suspicious of something. Since you are knee-deep in Cameron’s file, I assume it has something to do with her case.”
“No. Ah…” I hate lying, especially to this man. “I was just wondering if you’ve heard anything from Agent Markwell yet?”
Grayson knows I’m lying but pretends he doesn’t. “Not yet. I said you’d be the first I’d tell if I heard anything.” He scoffs. “I doubt it will be anytime in the next few days. Markwell is pissed that we gave this collar to local law enforcement officers without including his name on the paperwork.”
I snarl, loathing that anyone could be in this job for the accolades, before I twist to face him like it won’t squash the imaginary lemon wedged low in my uterus when he coughs up some of the intel I’ve been seeking all afternoon. “Detective Montrose said he’ll drop by after his shift tonight with a copy of Samuel’s hearing transcript. From what I could gather in the code he was talking, Samuel was offered a plea deal.”
“He would have had to give them someone big to get a deal that included bail.”
Grayson nods, agreeing with me.
“Do we have any idea who it might be?”
His nod shifts to a headshake. “I’m working on it. I should have something in the next hour or two. I just figured I would check how you’re doing before diving back into it.”
Hating the discomfort in his words, I say, “It’s going okay. However, I am a little confused about the forensic report on the burned-out van. They said the fire was deliberately lit.”
A strand of blond hair drapes across his eye when he dips his chin. “They used an accelerant. CSIs believe it was to conceal DNA evidence.”
“Then why would they start the fire in the motor instead of the cab of the van?” Even a rookie agent knows they would collect most of the DNA evidence from the cab of the kidnapping vehicle.