Expired Getaway (Last Chance County #7) - Lisa Phillips Page 0,5

said something low before heading for the front door, pushing it open to go outside.

“That her?” Frees eyed the woman’s retreating form.

Aiden nodded.

“I got it. You get back to Syd.”

Frees strode after her. He angled his radio to his mouth to speak as he headed out the front door. Aiden went back to the party, compiling his thoughts. Drug deal, and she was affiliated with the bowling alley. Whoever that guy was in the office, Aiden would talk to the sergeant about him. This could easily be a big case for the department. Though, given what they’d been through in recent months—this whole past year, basically—no one wanted to dip their toe into a huge problem so quickly.

Of course, they would if it became necessary. But a shark known as “West” had been swimming in the local pool for years. The result? Near devastation. Months of investigation down twists and blind corners. The cost to the department had been huge.

“Daddy.” Syd slammed into him, and he lifted her again because she still let him do it. “Did you get that perp?”

Aiden grinned. “I’m not working. I’m hanging out with you.” Never mind that no cop used the word “perp.” Ever. “Is the party done?”

She eyed him. “I’m still hungry.”

“So we should stop for broccoli on the way home?”

Syd made a mock-gagging noise. “Ice cream!”

Aiden blew a raspberry on her cheek. “As you wish.”

He set her down, and they said their goodbyes to the birthday girl before turning to the front door of the bowling alley.

The guy from the office stood by the Employees Only door. Arms folded.

Watching him.

Three

Two days after the accountant’s office exploded, Bridget pulled into the garage of a townhouse just before two in the morning. The address was the one her boss had given her for the safe house in Last Chance. She waited until the garage had rolled down before pushing open the driver’s door and grabbing her duffel from the backseat.

There wasn’t much to haul into the house, considering she hadn’t had time to go home before she drove north out of Denver, nor was it safe to have done so. All she had with her was everything she’d taken on her last mission, along with her backpack. Plus, she’d had to find a new vehicle, as Clarke knew the one she normally drove.

Exhaustion weighed down her muscles and made her want to flop onto the couch and fall asleep. But she knew rest wouldn’t come. She set the backpack down beside her bag and wandered through the rooms to familiarize herself with the layout.

Times like these, when her body was a mess of aches and pains, the nightmares came. And then she’d wake up more tired than before.

Bridget had no intention of allowing Enrico or Clarke, or the past for that matter, to invade her sleep tonight. It was only a matter of time before one or both of them figured out she was still alive. And then they would come again to kill her.

But that wasn’t even what she was worried about.

Bridget brewed a pot of coffee she would have to drink black, as the house was only stocked with dry goods. No perishables. Fine by her. She also dumped two cans of soup into a pan to heat up on the stove.

While the noise of the gas flame and the coffee percolating filled the kitchen, she fired up her laptop. It didn’t take long to log remotely into their security system and get a look at Enrico and his men arriving at the accountant’s office. They’d been there for more than an hour before Bridget showed up in her car. She fast forwarded through the part where she walked in through the back door, and slowed it back down right before they stepped outside.

Her phone vibrated in the front pocket of her backpack.

Please be Millie.

But it was her other female colleague. Millie was a wife and mother. She didn’t make middle-of-the-night phone calls.

Bridget swiped her thumb across the screen and put the phone to her ear. “Hey, Sasha.”

“I’m guessing things are about as good as you sound.”

“I’m in a safe house.” She wasn’t going to tell Sasha where it was, or even the connection she had to this town. Sasha knew their boss was from Last Chance. But the less Bridget’s colleagues knew about her past, the better.

She’d been trained that way, by them, and it had kept her alive all this time.

“Good.” Sasha let out a long breath. “I can’t believe