Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“How is your computer running?” she asked.
The last time I’d seen her, she’d been giving my computer a reboot.
I’d left it at the shop, and the next day it’d been toast. Herb said he’d tried to make an invoice and had clicked some link, and then it’d stopped working.
Whatever Herb had done to it, Folsom had gotten it running better than before she’d had it, and I never took it back up to the shop for Herb to play on.
My computer was my faithful companion, always willing to play Netflix anytime I wanted it to. It also served to help me write book reviews for my blog. A blog that was a secret from everyone, even my best friend.
Why?
Because I didn’t want anyone to know that I read porn.
And not even the normal kind.
My favorite right now was monster stuff. The kind where a woman is forced to be with a monster (though nicely of course and not using his monster strength to overpower her) and they live happily ever after with their little half-monster children.
“It’s doing well,” I said. “It’s running faster than it ever ran.”
“That’s because I made the hard drive larger,” she said, waving her hand. “And added a few programs that are slightly more or less illegal. But don’t worry, I left no trace, so there’s no way someone would be able to find out that you’re running an unreleased update right now…”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
I had suspected she’d done something to it. She was freakishly smart like that. But to have it confirmed…
“Okay,” I smiled. “Folsom, have you met Sara yet?”
Sara bounced like she liked to do, waving as she did. “Hi, I think we have met before once or twice at the coffee shop when it was still open. It’s nice to officially meet you. Are you getting drunk with us tonight?”
She nodded, eyes intense and on my friend.
I looked between the two in confusion. The way that Folsom looked at Sara was disconcerting. As if she knew something about my friend that I did not.
But then she blinked, and all of the previous intensity was gone, as if it’d never been.
Had I imagined that?
“What?” I asked Folsom.
Folsom shook her head and said, “Oh, nothing.”
Sara watched as Folsom walked away, her eyes coming to me.
I shrugged.
“I have no clue,” I said.
What I did know was that Folsom was intense. From what I’d learned about her when I’d first met her, she did have some issues. Though she was a certified genius, I’d gotten the vibe of her being neurodivergent.
I tugged on her elbow, urging her forward, when we were greeted with two very large, muscular backs with their Gator Bait MC cuts on.
Kobe and Davis stood next to each other talking quietly. Folsom stood directly behind them, listening to every word they said. My guess, they didn’t know she was there.
Sara leaned in and said, “Did you see the vibe between Kobe and Folsom?”
“I did,” I whispered back. “That was intense.”
“That was intense.” She nodded.
“It was,” I agreed.
“Should we…” I started to say, but upon hearing my whisper voice, Davis turned around and narrowed his eyes.
“Speaking of people that don’t like me,” I murmured.
“We weren’t speaking of people that didn’t like you,” she pointed out.
“No,” I agreed. “But whatever. Let’s go.”
We went into the police station, moving around the three people that were blocking the majority of the walkway.
When I moved past them, I chose to go closer to Davis than to Kobe since I didn’t know him as well, and ended up brushing past him with my boob.
He noticed and stiffened, moving out of my way as best as he could so I wouldn’t brush him with my unclean body.
Asshole.
Sara caught the door, and before I could let it close behind me, a large hand caught it and swung it back open.
Davis crowded close behind me into the vestibule.
I looked around the office, having never been to the sheriff’s department before.
“Wow,” I said as I took in the clean room.
Though outdated, it was obvious that whoever had taken over the decorating of the station, they’d done a good job with what they’d had.
Though there was outdated ’70s tile everywhere, the floors were still sparkling white. The desks and the chairs in the lobby were new and comfy looking.
“Love what you’ve done to the place, Sheriff,” Sara piped in, smiling wide when the sheriff and Finn walked toward us. “You’ve made it glow again.”
I frowned over at my friend. “When would you have seen this place?”
She opened her mouth to respond, then closed it, her eyes going a bit shifty when she said, “Oh, I stopped by for a check-in with one of my students.”
Sara was a dance teacher. She owned her own studio in a bigger town about thirty minutes away.
But I knew for a fact she didn’t have any issues with one of her kids, because if she had, I would’ve known about it.