Page 72 of Captivating Anika

“Oh, for fuck’s sakes. Why would they want to drag this out for people who care about her?”

“Same reason they don’t want the recovery of Kim Cooper’s car, or what they found in the trunk, to become public knowledge.”

“Chris Cooper already knows,” I point out. “Anika told him when he was holding a damn knife to her throat. And since he’s the one you guys say stuck those chips in the trunk, he’ll be well aware that money is in your hands.”

“Or…” Evans drawls. “He knows about the car, but maybe thinks his wife found his loot and took off with it. If he finds out she’s dead and we have those chips, he’s gonna take off. His only leverage with the organization is the fact he can still recover the money for them. Once that leverage is gone, he’s a dead man.”

I see his point, but the whole situation still doesn’t sit right with me.

“Sounds like a dangerous game to me. Especially since you already have one dead woman. Someone killed her. Who’s to say whoever that is won’t decide to come around and have a go at Anika as well?”

“Unlikely, but I hear you. Don’t know what to tell you though. There’s a lot of time and manpower invested in this investigation, they don’t wanna see go to waste.”

Fuck.

“You realize you’re making me lie to my girl?”

“First of all, I’m not, the feds are. Besides, it isn’t lying if you don’t say anything,” he suggests.

I bark out a laugh. “Something tells me that’s not going to fly with Anika. Maybe I should check with Vic, I wonder what she thinks of your theory.”

I guess he’s considering my point, because there’s a pregnant pause on the other end. He and I both know Vic wouldn’t stand for it, she’d have his balls on a platter if she caught him lying by omission.

“That’s cold, man. Don’t even go there.”

That’s what I thought.

Anika

“This is Fergie.”

A very tall, lithe individual appears behind Monique in the doorway of my office. My guess is early to mid-thirties, beautiful red, wavy hair down to the shoulders, modest makeup—but enough to make those clear blue eyes stand out—and pouty, plum lips. Such beautiful, classic features, it makes the discovery of a prominent Adam’s apple and the wide shoulders rather startling.

“Nice to meet you, Fergie. I’m Anika.”

The handshake is firm and the voice is a solid baritone.

“The pleasure is mine. I hope you don’t mind if I try to make this a little easier on everyone; I’m non-binary. I don’t identify as any one specific gender, but unlike some, I’m not really hung up on using particular pronouns. They, he, she…it all works for me. I know who I am.”

I can’t help but grin at them. I like this straight-up, no-nonsense attitude.

“Good to know. I can’t promise I’m not going to mess up at some point but I think I’ll use they, them, and their.”

“Fair enough.”

“Have a seat,” I invite them before I ask Monique, “Do you have time to make Fergie a coffee?”

“Sure. What do you take in your coffee?” she asks them.

“Black, please.”

When she leaves, I turn to Fergie.

“Have either Landon or Monique explained our situation?”

“Only that you’re looking for someone immediately.”

“Right. One of our hairdressers left abruptly.”

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