Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
I glanced over, watching the intermittent light slide across her cheeks. Her hair was tightly braided, her clothes dark. She might be a civilian, but—and this was the part I was fighting—I liked her. Fuck. I was trying not to, but I couldn’t help it. She was smart, she was persistent, she was intelligent enough to be scared and to accept our help, but also brave enough not to let the fear hold her back.
I didn’t want to admire Sylvie Calloway. I did not want to like her. I definitely didn’t want to keep noticing how pink her lips were or the way she filled out that T-shirt and jeans. This wasn’t the time for me to break the rules about having sex with a client—never mind that Sylvie wasn’t a client. It was effectively the same relationship. She needed protection and help, and I was the person playing that role. Whoever was after her was a pro. Which meant I—we—had to be careful.
This wasn’t a game, and I was aware that while Sylvie saw us as partners, a big part of my job was to keep her alive. I wasn’t going to fuck that up. If I thought too much about her lips or how much I liked her laugh, I was going to get distracted.
The price of that distraction could be Sylvie’s life. Not a great way to pay her back for thinking she was smart and hot and funny. Our need for answers was the only thing tying us together. And the best place to start was the cold storage building.
Sylvie slept for almost three hours. After my initial annoyance, I found I didn’t mind. I liked the quiet, hearing her soft breaths beside me, knowing she was getting some rest. While she’d napped that afternoon, I suspected she’d slept very lightly after she’d gone to bed. Considering that I’d been almost silent going down the hall, she must have been awake and listening for me.
It was a level of moxie I admired.
Regardless, she needed her sleep, given what she’d been through in the last twenty-four hours.
We were half an hour outside Knoxville when she stirred, lifting her head and blinking, her eyes widening as she caught the sign on the side of the highway.
“Oh man, I’m sorry. I thought I’d close my eyes for a minute and then wake up and offer to drive the second half.”
I felt the smile curl my mouth. “You’re not driving.”
“I can drive an SUV,” she said with affront. “This thing isn’t as big as my van.”
“I’m sure you can,” I said. “You’re still not driving.”
“Why? Because I don’t have a penis?”
“No, because this is my vehicle and nobody drives my vehicle but me.”
“Okay, crazy,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t mind being chauffeured around. I was just trying to be nice. So, when we get there, how are we breaking in?”
I couldn’t help liking how her brain went straight to breaking and entering without objection. “You usually throw in a little B and E when you’re investigating a case?”
“No,” Sylvie said. “I usually talk to people and do a lot of research. But you know”—she eyed my all-black attire—“you don’t look dressed for a stakeout.”
I rolled my eyes and laughed. She wasn’t wrong. “What do you know about stakeouts?”
“Everything I’ve seen on TV,” she said. “You should have, like, a bag of chips, and look really bored.”
“We’re just going to check it out. If we decide that it’s worth trying to get in and retrieve some of the evidence, we’ll send back a team specifically for that purpose. You and I are there to take a look at the building, the environment.”
“We’re going to case the joint,” she said.
“You really do watch too much TV,” I said, holding back another laugh.
“Not as much as I used to. But yeah, probably. So, we’re going to check it out. Take notes on security cameras and guards and stuff like that?”
“Stuff like that,” I agreed.
“Does Sinclair Security usually break into police evidence storage?” she asked.
I didn’t grace that with a response.
“And how do you know the evidence from Emily Shaw’s crime scene is at this location?”
Now we were getting into information Sylvie didn’t need. I shook my head.
“Come on, Eli. I signed an NDA.” She reached across the console and poked me in the arm.
“Yeah, which means you can’t talk about the things you know. It doesn’t mean you need to know everything.” I slid her a sideways glance, trying not to enjoy the disgruntled look on her face, her brows drawn together, her teeth sunk into her lower lip.
Sylvie let out a harrumph and crossed her arms over her chest. I was sure it wasn’t supposed to be adorable, but it was. I still wasn’t going to tell her that Maddox and Emmett had done a little hacking and followed the chain of custody on the evidence, especially since Cooper wouldn’t be thrilled to know what they’d done.