his face, and scurried toward the kitchen.
She disarmed the alarm with four seconds to spare and dashed back to the front door. Only Brent’s taillights were visible in the distance.
Well, shoot. Getting the man to talk about their relationship was going to be a challenge.
But challenges had never daunted Eve Reilly. So over their Frappuccinos after her speech tomorrow, she’d tackle this one head-on.
Because after almost a week of normalcy, she’d be willing to bet that whoever had put her in his sights last weekend would cease and desist once the suspicions about Steve became public knowledge—if he hadn’t already.
After all, as Brent had noted, why would someone who was using Steve as a cover continue to bother her knowing that would put them on law enforcement’s radar? Only a person with a far more sinister intent than Meg’s husband had had would risk exposure by persisting in his harassment.
And the odds of that had to be small.
Didn’t they?
Al
Fri., Sept. 14, 12:10 p.m.
Did u c news re Jackson?
Dan
Fri., Sept. 14, 12:11 p.m.
Yes. Following story.
Al
Fri., Sept. 14, 12:11 p.m.
We waited 2 long.
Dan
Fri., Sept. 14, 12:12 p.m.
No. Working on plan. U will b covered.
Al
Fri., Sept. 14, 12:12 p.m.
How?
Al
Fri., Sept. 14, 12:15 p.m.
U there?
Al
Fri., Sept. 14, 12:18 p.m.
U still there?
Dan
Fri., Sept. 14, 12:20 p.m.
Will make sure Jackson has no alibi. Carry on as planned.
22
YOU GOT THE SHORT STRAW for this one too, I see.”
As Colin greeted him, Brent finished signing the crime scene log, ducked under the police tape, and joined his colleague in front of the abandoned warehouse. “Yeah—and a murder investigation wasn’t in my Friday afternoon plans.”
“I doubt it was in his, either.” Colin hooked a thumb toward the tarp-covered body visible a few yards inside the door.
Right.
Perspective check.
“What do we know?”
“Only what the responding officer observed.”
Brent listened as Colin filled him in, sifting through the facts. “Could be a drug deal gone bad.”
“Has all the earmarks. We’ll know more after Hank weighs in.” He motioned to a Crime Scene Unit van executing a fast left into the parking lot with a slight screech of tires.
“How do you know that’s Hank?” Brent squinted at the windshield, but the glare hid the driver’s identity.
“He’s a lousy driver. Always takes his corners too sharp. He also waits until the last second to hit the brakes.”
As if on cue, a squeal pierced the air as the van came to an abrupt halt.
A few moments later Hank exited the vehicle, marched over, and gave them both a visual frisk. “You two didn’t mess with my scene, did you?”
“Wouldn’t think of it.” Colin folded his arms, his tone mild.
“Right.” The CSU tech snorted, his unruly gray hair flapping in the breeze. As Brent transferred his weight from one foot to the other, Hank turned his attention to him. “Do I know you?”
“Brent Lange.” He held out his hand. “Detective now, but patrol for most of my career.”
“Knew I’d seen you around.” He gave him a firm shake. “In case Colin didn’t fill you in, I don’t like interlopers at my crime scenes.”
The man was living up to his reputation as brusque, eccentric—and territorial.
“Understood.”
“You can look, but don’t touch.”
“Got it.”
“Good.” Hank gave the scene a sweep. “Lacey here yet?”
“No.” Colin jumped back in. “Sarge said she was tied up at another scene but should be here within the hour.”
“Can’t do much around the body until the medical examiner’s office weighs in.” Hank shouldered past them, grumbling under his breath.
Colin watched the tech disappear into the warehouse and rolled his eyes. “Talk about a curmudgeon.”
“I only saw him from a distance as a patrol officer—but I heard he was top-notch at his job.”
“He is. That’s why we all put up with him.” Colin tipped his head. “You look tired. That crack-of-dawn chauffeur gig must be catching up with you. Any new leads?”
“No.”
“You pulled a tough one for your first case. But you did meet Eve.” The corners of Colin’s lips rose.
Brent jammed his hand in his pocket. How was he supposed to respond to that loaded comment? Yes, he was glad he’d met her—but despite her confidence that he could be the kind of man she wanted . . . and her assurance she could handle the dangers of his job . . . he was nowhere close to convinced moving forward would be in her best interest.
“Hey.” Colin’s amusement vanished. “Sorry. I must have read too much into the situation.”
Why not be honest with his colleague? Colin had opened up to him not long ago—and he could