“Okay,” I say, grounding myself. “Jasmine’s supposed to spend the day with Brooke tomorrow. First date.”
“Tell Jasmine to take Brooke off the grid, somewhere where she can’t obviously be followed by the Raiders,” Conner mutters. “That may work in our favor.”
“So what’s the play?” I ask.
He’s already moving again, pacing in a tight circle like he’s building a war map in his head.
“First, we find where they’re keeping Tommy,” he says. “Then we get him out when the time is right, and vanish before Marcus even knows we were there.”
“We’re going to vanish?” I choke.
“No Jasmine is going to vanish,” he nods. “We’re going to kill the Raiders. Every last one.”
15
CONNER
Hours later—aftermy strictly timed 4.2-mile run, two boiled eggs, a bowl of unsweetened oatmeal, and exactly forty-five minutes of weight training—I find myself standing outside the Dallas State Police Department. The heat hasn’t kicked in yet, but the sun’s already baking the sidewalk, which I deemed the only time appropriate to be in the police department.
The truth is, long before I found my calling in forensic science, I thought I’d wear a badge. Serve, protect, uphold justice. All that idealistic crap they feed you in school.
I learned quickly: there’s only so much you can do frominsidethe system. And I meant it when I said I’d kill Marcus. I can’t do that when I promised to protect and uphold all citizens, because that includes the scum, doesn’t it?
I push through the front doors and make a beeline for the front desk, where a woman with pencil-thin eyebrows and a glossy smile looks up from her chipped acrylics. Her name tag reads “Trina,” and her perfume hits me before her voice does—overly sweet, like candied fruit doused in rubbing alcohol.
She bats her lashes. “Can I help you, sir?”
I flash a smile I’ve practiced to perfection. Not too friendly. Just clinical enough to make people uneasy. “That depends. You think you can get me into the back without alerting your supervisor?”
She giggles.Giggles. “Depends what I’m getting in return.”
Trina’s tongue runs over her teeth in a manner that I am assuming is supposed to be flirtatious, but it only makes me want to continue to analyze her. Her left eyelash is starting to lift. Her piling foundation doesn’t match her neck, and she’s got lipstick and chocolate on her teeth. I inwardly sigh, because only one of those things can be used to my benefit.
I lean in slightly, lowering my voice. “Trina, do you still have a love of Parisian chocolate?”
She leans across the desk, an acrylic nail running aimlessly across my chest. It takes everything in me not to snap her finger cleanly at the bone. “You know it buttercup,” she sings in an almost nasal tone.
I slide a smirk onto my face—the one I perfected watching Landon work a room. My eyes skim down her body like I’m thinking about sex. Really, I’m thinking about how she hasn’t swallowed once since I walked in.
Her throat’s tight. Pulse ticking at the base of it. Pupils dilated just enough to give her away.
“Well, lucky for both of us. I still know your favorite shop.” I whisper, and she fuckingsqueals.
I inwardly groan trying to keep myself from clawing my own eardrums out as I slide a case of chocolates from the infamousEdwart’s.
“Why are you buttering me up Conner Kilgore?” She coos.
“Because it is faster than wasting my time filing paperwork and waiting for approval I already know I’ll get.” I wink, the first truth of this entire interaction spilling out.
“You’re right about that,” she wiggles her eyebrows, digging into the box of truffles and moaning when one passes her lips. With a mouth full of chocolate she speaks behind her hand. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m consulting for SAC Kilroy,” I add, slipping my clearance pass across the counter. “I want access to the lace murders.”
“Consulting for SAC Kilroy doesn’t get you into the Lace murder files, or evidence.” She quirks an eyebrow.
“That’s why I brought chocolate.” I lean against the counter and smirk in a way that makes most people think I am letting them in on a dirty secret.
She hesitates for half a second too long—then buzzes the side door open with a mutter, “Fine, but if you get caught, you snuck in while I was in the ladies room.”
