When He's Dirty (Walker Security Adrian’s Trilogy #1) - Lisa Renee Jones Page 0,7
Pitt. He doesn’t answer. Of course, he doesn’t answer. He’s the only link I have to Adrian Mack, who’s been in hiding for over two years. He’s supposed to be locating Mack for me. Why would he actually take my call?
For reasons I cannot explain, especially right now, of all times, in the middle of a killer case, quite literally, my mind is back on Rafael. I quickly google “Rafael,” looking for the singer, who seems to have no last name, and the first image I pull up has my lips parting. My God, I was right. He really does look like the man I just met, only not quite like him. The resemblance is uncanny though and just to be sure, I google Rafael’s, as in the singer’s, tattoos. I couldn’t quite make out all of the ink on my Rafael, but I know that it was black and red.
My gaze rakes over the singer’s naked upper torso, and his ink is brightly colored, which means he is not my Rafael. The singer Rafael does have really amazing ripped abs and I wonder if my Rafael has those abs. I’m fairly certain the answer is yes. I’m one hundred percent certain that I’d like to find out. My phone rings and I glance at the number to find Grace, a co-worker, fellow assistant DA, and friend, who wants me at a party tonight. I’d ignore the call, except she’s a good friend, the kind I never had back at the firm and it’s her birthday. “Hey,” I say, answering the call.
“How’s it going?”
“It’s—going,” I say. “Happy birthday. Again.”
She laughs. “I still can’t believe you called me at midnight.”
“And woke you up,” I say. “I didn’t think you’d be asleep on a Friday night.”
“Alas, I’m becoming boring. I can’t believe Josh’s party is tonight of all nights. You’re going, right?”
Josh is not only a detective who works for the DA like we do, albeit outside any direct contact with me, he’s the detective Grace has long had a crush on but avoided because of the conflict of interest. And since he’s now taking a job with a private security company to do the same work for more money, that problem has disappeared. I wonder briefly if he’s going to work for the same company Rafael works for, but that’s silly and an impossible coincidence.
Shoving aside my thoughts of a hot man I barely know, I go to work explaining myself to Grace. “I want to,” I say, aware that she’s shy outside of the courtroom and wants me with her.
“But?” she adds. “Why is there always a but with you?”
“I’m just a little worried about this case overflowing into my personal life.”
“This isn’t your personal life,” she says. “It’s work. We’ll still be contracting Josh’s services and he’s someone we can trust. And the bar’s going to be packed with cops and it’s only a few blocks from work, which means your house. In other words, I can come to your door and get you.”
“All right, all right” I concede. “I’ll go for you.”
“And you,” she corrects. “You need a safe place to relax a little. It’s September first. You have some time. The trial doesn't start for a month. I still can’t believe this trial is going to run so close to the holidays.”
“Had two of my witnesses not been murdered, we’d be starting sooner,” I remind her. “And thankfully the judge understands that if we wait until the new year, everyone who ever touched this case might be dead.”
“Yep. I was right. You need a drink.”
“Yes,” I agree. “I believe I do.”
We chat a minute more and disconnect, and when I’m done, I click off Rafael’s photo. I don’t have the luxury of thinking about some hot man I’ll likely never see again. I pull up a photo of Waters, the King Devil. He’s the only man who will have my attention until at least Thanksgiving.
***
Okay, there is one more man, I decide to focus on not much later. I spend the entire working day fixated on Jose Deleon, the Devils’ second in command. He’s missing and likely the person killing the witnesses, but we have no proof. He’d probably be the person to kill me if I became a target. That thought is enough to convince me I need that night out surrounded by cops. That sends me to my closet to fret over what you wear to a sort of work event.