Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“That was made before I knew of your plans to force me from my home.”
He appears remorseful. His words aren’t. “Timing doesn’t matter. An agreement is an agreement.”
“You can’t stay here.” My voice is as high as my disbelief.
“I can,” he repeats. “And I am.” He nudges his head to the kitchen. “So how about we eat while our food is still hot before working out how we can get back your belongings so we can occasionally cook. I can’t survive on takeout alone for the next two weeks.”
His pledge of assistance excites me before I remember it is all a part of his plan.
Then I call the police.
10
CHRISTIAN
“I’m sorry, but in the state of Florida, criminal trespass is defined as the willful entry into or remaining upon property without the express or implied permission of the owner.” The gorgeous brunette, who arrived with a male partner, lowers her tone sympathetically. “Although you refunded his Airbnb payment, the verbal agreement you reached prior to the transfer of funds makes this a consensual agreement.”
I signed up for an Airbnb account purely because my contact with the Florida Residency Commission made it clear I wouldn’t last a day in this town without some sort of legality behind my wish to stay.
Supposedly Ravenshoe isn’t run by the mayor and his minions. It is dominated by a hotshot billionaire named Isaac Holt.
His name has been tossed around more times than I can count over the past few months. Every reference was positive except one.
Mrs. Richler was quick to shoot down my attempt to bring him up. She made out she’d never met the guy.
She lied through her teeth as often as she did when I queried about her removing Angel’s possessions without her permission last night.
I can sniff a rat from a mile out. Mrs. Richler’s stench was so foul that I blame her for Angel’s demand for me to shower last night.
“But…” When Angel realizes she has no leg to stand on, she doubles the jealousy sluicing my veins by shifting her attention to Officer Holt’s male partner and batting her lashes at him. He was cocky before she flirted with him. Now he is downright arrogant. “Ryan, please. You can’t expect me to board with a stranger. What if he’s a serial killer?”
Ryan joins us in the living room, his swagger mimicking an officer with over a decade in the service. “He isn’t. I ran his credentials through the system when dispatch forwarded your call to my unit.”
“Just because he doesn’t have a record doesn’t mean he isn’t a serial killer.”
“That’s true,” Ryan replies to Angel’s commentary, eyeing me up and down. “So I guess it wouldn’t hurt to take him down to PD for a more thorough investigation.” His blue eyes twinkle with mischievousness as he asks, “Will thirty minutes be sufficient to move him on?”
“I’ll take anything you’re willing to offer,” Angel replies, joining Ryan’s stare-off.
The victory slashed across her face drops when I show I don’t just have brawn. I have brains as well. “Am I under arrest?”
“No,” the brunette answers, her one-word reply the length of an entire sentence.
I thank her for her help with a smile before shifting my focus back to the duo, both playing bad cop. “Then I refuse your request for an interview.”
Ryan scoffs. “You can’t deny my request for an interview.”
“I can,” I reply, doubling the redness creeping up Angel’s neck. “And I will continue doing so until you either place me under arrest or show me a court order requesting my attendance at the Ravenshoe Police Department. Even then, your request will only be considered, not guaranteed.”
Ryan is clearly not a man used to hearing no. “Considered? You will consider a court order to attend an interview at Ravenshoe PD.”
“Ryan—”
He cuts off his partner by slicing his hand through the air.
She has more gall than her petite frame announces. “Outside now, Officer Carter.”
Ryan appears shocked by her demand. I’m in fucking awe—and slightly turned on. Not because she’s got the confidence to play in a field prominently referred to as a “man’s world,” but because of her numerous reassurances to Ryan that Angel is not in any danger in my presence.
“We also have nothing on him. At the start of our interview, the claimant stated that she offered for him to stay with her until something more suitable came up.”
You can see the disappointment on Ryan’s face and smell it leaching from his pores, but he still tries to fight. “Then we’ll bring Isaac in on this. He will move him on quickly.”
“He would,” the brunette agrees. “But I don’t think we should involve him with this.”
Ryan stares at his partner as if she’s lost her marbles, and his bewilderment increases the longer she whispers in his ear.
I don’t know what she says to him, but after a lengthy silent debate, he returns to the living room and hands a business card to Angel.