Page 57 of Lethal Danger

“Sleep tight.” Nev’s voice called out the traditional last words they’d said to each other since their first sleepover at seven years old.

Jazz’s smile faded as she reached the guest bedroom that she’d slept in so much it seemed more like her room than the one she had at her apartment. She sat on the edge of the bed, and Flash jumped onto the comforter.

“Beating me to the best spot, huh?” She scratched him behind the ears, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

The handsome face of Hawthorne, his grin and electric teal eyes, filled her vision. She did trust him. She was a good judge of people, and there was something about Hawthorne that put her at ease more than anyone she’d met before. Other than Nev, when they were seven-year-olds meeting for the first time on the school playground. There was something about him that reminded her of Nev.

No, not of Nev specifically, but of how Nev made her feel. At ease. Understood. Appreciated.

Even though she’d only known Hawthorne for three days, she felt more comfortable with him than anyone but Nev. Probably why she’d spilled her guts and her life story all in one conversation. Or was it two conversations?

She snorted and pushed off the bed, going to the dresser to pull out her pj’s.

At least thinking about Hawthorne was a lot more pleasant than trying to figure out who was trying to kill her. The theory someone had only been trying to intimidate Aunt Joan by threatening Jazz was blown now that they’d tried again after Aunt Joan was…

The floral print blouse, Aunt Joan’s body on the pavement, flashed before her eyes.

Was she really gone?

Jazz swallowed, leaning her hands against the top of the dresser for a moment. Just for a second, as the reality washed over her. She’d never have another chance to get Aunt Joan to like her.

The face of her dad, pale and lifeless on the stark white pillowcase, rose up in her mind like a flashback from a nightmare.

She’d never have another chance at a lot of things.

Seventeen

“Thanks for meeting me.” Hawthorne set the small basket holding his fully loaded hot dog on the picnic table and smiled at Jazz.

As if she would turn down a texted lunch invitation from her favorite author—who also happened to be the most gorgeous guy she’d ever been this close to. She kept that thought to herself and lifted her sunglasses to rest on top of her head—maybe so she could see him better—as she sat down with her corn dog and fries.

Flash panted heavily and dropped onto the blacktop. He apparently wanted to take immediate advantage of the shade under the canopy that covered the cluster of tables between food vendors.

She didn’t blame him. The noon sun was punishing today with the humidity.

She swung her backpack off her shoulder and dug out Flash’s water thermos. Unclipping his collapsible water bowl from the zipper pull, she filled the dish with water for him to enjoy while the humans ate.

“So you’re just starting your shift?” Not that Jazz had been disappointed when she’d seen he wasn’t on the morning shift duty roster with her today.

Hawthorne nodded, finishing chewing before he responded.

Looked like a model and had decent manners. Be still her heart. She held back her amusement as she took a small bite of her corn dog. Didn’t usually eat lunch at the fair at all since finding a salad anywhere on the grounds was impossible, other than in the rabbit pens. She’d tack on another half hour to her run to burn off the fat and calories tonight.

“I switched shifts so I could go to church this morning.”

The piece of corn dog stuck in her throat, and she coughed.

“You okay?” Hawthorne’s eyebrows pulled together with genuine concern as he watched her.

She nodded and grabbed for her thermos on the table. She took a long swig of water, willing away the color she could feel heating her face. Hawthorne Emerson was a churchgoer? Pretty serious one if he’d rearranged his work schedule for it. Hopefully, that didn’t mean he was as extreme as Cora, Bristol, or Sofia. Even Nevaeh was getting there.

A little church could be good. Made some people more moral and civilized. But then there were the people who only went to church to feel better about themselves and look good to others. Like Jazz’s family. She tamped down the emotion rising in her chest. Better move off the church topic as quickly as possible. “You’ll have burned your lunch break early with this.”

“I don’t mind.” The smile he gave her sent a tingle down her spine. “I wanted to tell you what I found.”

She blinked. Did he mean about the flat tire? Had he—

“I spent a couple hours last night going over the security footage from yesterday.”

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