Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“This is Travis’s town,” Spencer interjected.
I shut my eyes briefly and huffed out a breath. Talk about melodramatic. “Listen, Mr. Torres, you might have just arrived, but I think we can both agree that you’ve burned the wrong bridge here in Pelion. I wouldn’t expect this to be an enjoyable summer if you stay.”
“You should leave before we run you out of town,” Spencer threatened.
“Spencer,” I said between clenched teeth, not glancing his way. Spencer had obviously watched far too many reruns of Gunsmoke in preparation for the job.
“What are you going to do?” Easton asked warily.
I chewed at my bottom lip thoughtfully, a slow smile unfolding. His gaze widened. “Nothing,” I drawled. His chin jerked minutely, eyebrows lifting. “Nothing until you least expect it,” I clarified, my smile growing. I stepped out of his path so he could pass by.
He moved to go inside, and I stepped in his way again, causing him to have to move around the other side. Immature yet satisfying.
“You’re crazy, you know that?” he said, dipping around and glancing back repeatedly as he almost ran to the diner door, ducking inside.
As if he were safe there.
Those were my people. And unlike Phoebe, they were loyal.
Still, I’d bide my time.
Spencer followed as I walked toward our cruiser.
I pulled out of the lot, heading toward the station. “We could have him roughed up,” Spencer offered.
My brows came down and I gave him a glare. “We’re not going to rough anyone up, Spencer. Jesus.” I was many things, but a crooked cop wasn’t one of them.
He looked chastised. “Sorry, boss.”
I sighed. “This is a personal issue. I’ll know when the right opportunity comes along.” I glanced at him. “And listen, Spencer…”
The guy was staring at me so intently, as though I was about to impart the sagest advice he’d ever been given. I was surprised he hadn’t taken out a piece of paper to make notes. “Just…dial it down a notch, okay?”
His shoulders sagged and he nodded dejectedly. “I just want you to know I got your back, boss.”
I sighed. “I know that. I appreciate it.” He was a decent guy. He was even a good cop so far, though he hadn’t been on long. His main downfall was that his regular ass-kissing got on my nerves.
“She cheated on you,” Spencer said. “Phoebe cheated on you.” He looked personally outraged, and though it was overkill—an example of him not dialing it down—I still appreciated the concern on my behalf.
“And you walked in on it,” he said, letting out one long whistle. “Man. That sucks.” He dragged out the word, enunciating the u with a seemingly unending number of head bounces, until it was about fifty-seven syllables long and a headache had started at the base of my spine.
As if the word sucks needed to be so dramatically enunciated when discussing my cheating girlfriend. I had no doubt plenty of that had gone on before I walked in the room. I didn’t appreciate the sudden visual. “I’d want revenge too,” Spencer offered. “I mean, you walked right in on it!” he repeated.
God, why did I tell him about it? Why?
Temporary emotional insanity, it had to have been.
“Yes, Spencer, I’m aware that I walked right in on it. I haven’t forgotten the moment.”
Spencer shook his head, staring through the windshield as the sunshine-drenched streets of Pelion streaked by, the blue of the lake sparkling in the distance. “What that guy did?” Spencer went on. “Humiliating you like that? Seducing your girl? Getting under the sheets with her, naked! Sticking his—”
“Spencer,” I barked. He looked at me, startled. “Thank you so much for spelling the situation out for me, step by step, as it likely occurred. I was looking forward to considering all the possibilities and reliving the experience all over again.”
“Not a problem, boss.”
Okay, so he wasn’t the most perceptive person. If he was a good cop, it was likely only a result of luck and the fact that the most serious calls we tended to get in Pelion—barring what had happened between my father and uncles decades ago, and what happened to Archer more recently—were for lost dogs and the occasional drunk and disorderly.
And once in a while, a reckless driver.
Haven Torres from California. That’s where I’d heard that name before. Could they be related?
“You can do me a favor, though,” I said thoughtfully.
“Anything, boss. Just name it. Anything. No matter what it is.”
I glanced at him, thinning my lips. “This is a place where you might dial it down, Spencer.”
“Oh. Right. Yeah. Yes, sir. Um…” He screwed up his face, looking lost.
The headache moved up my neck and settled at the base of my skull. I looked back at the road, turning into the station parking lot. “I’m going to find out exactly where Easton Torres is from and where he’s been. Then I want you to dig up everything you can about him. Traffic tickets…arrest warrants, illegal activities posted to his social media, anything and everything we might want to know about.”