Page 42 of In Another Lifetime

“Okay. Let me get you a shirt to sleep in then I’ll go talk to Brennan.”

After finding one of my white tees that would probably fit her like a nightgown, I headed off to find my brother. He was in his room, with his headset on, playing Call of Duty and yelling at his team. Deep in a mission, he ignored me until he glanced up and saw my expression. As soon as we wouldn’t be heard by the other gamers, I explained the plan—and the need for secrecy.

“I’m not stupid,” he said.

“I know, kid.”

“Also…not a kid.”

I chuckled. “Hate to break it to you, but you’ll always be a kid to me. Kid.”

He rolled his eyes at me and flicked some buttons on his controller. “Need to go kick ass. The guys are gonna be pissed at me for dipping out.”

“See you in the morning.”

He didn’t answer other than a sort-of wave my way while he yelled something about a sniper.

Vale was standing in the middle of my bedroom when I entered and locked the door behind me.

“Fuck… Who would have thought one of my shirts could be so sexy?” I breathed at the sight of how it fell over her curves, the tips of her pert breasts poking against the soft fabric.

Her hands fisted in the fabric at her thighs, inadvertently giving me a peek of her supple upper legs—exactly where I’d like to get cradled all night long. “I like wearing your shirt.’

“You saying I won’t need to invest in expensive lingerie?”

“Depends… Do you want to see me in cotton that covers me almost to my knees or in lace that doesn’t cover much?”

“How about neither?” I growled.

“I like that plan.”

“Me, too.”

Closing the distance between us, I showed her how utterly unnecessary it had been for me to find her sleepwear. She didn’t need it in my bed—a bed I hoped would soon be hers, as well.

Afterward, while she cuddled into my side, her tiny hand over my heart, my arms protectively around her and my ears pricked for any sound, my thoughts mulled everything I’d learned tonight. And I didn’t like the directions they drifted.

Dutch was in the Marreta cartel.

The Marreta cartel had disappeared from our radar five years ago.

Dutch had showed up late to work the day Melonie was murdered then he’d taken so much time driving us to the crime scene and to the hospital—after he’d insisted on driving.

Dutch had threatened Vale.

And Kale said my ex-partner was in the wind. They couldn’t find him, despite connections Kale wouldn’t reveal to me.

Where was Dutch? And what did he have to do with Melonie’s murder?

I felt as if I were putting together a puzzle, working blind without ever seeing the big picture.

Maybe, I wasn’t cut out for this, and I didn’t actually have ‘the gene’ for it? Maybe, I was too close to the situation. I sure as hell had never suspected my ex-partner of being a criminal. An asshole? Yes. A member of a drug cartel? Not in a million years.

Giving up on sleep, I slipped from the bed and tucked the blankets close around Vale. After kissing her forehead, I headed into the living room to start jotting notes—anything I could remember or I’d ever suspected. Anything I knew about Dutch.

I froze at the sight of a man sitting on my couch, with the lights off. I flipped on the lamps with the wall switch, and he glared at me.

“You know if Cookie’s gonna be staying here, you need more than that fake-ass security system you’ve got going on here.”

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