Page 1 of Wrong Number

prologue

Nixon Hayes

“You heading home?” my partner asked across from my desk. I shook my head.

“Not yet.”

“Man—" He was going to start on me; I didn’t have the time.

“Save it, Jase. Go home.” I pointed to the door. He simply shook his head.

“You need to find a life,” he said quietly, and when our eyes connected, I ignored the concern staring back at me. I glanced away because I was an asshole, but Jase was also my best friend. We literally trusted one another with our lives day in and day out.

“I had one of those. Wasn’t a fan,” I muttered, and I didn’t have to look at him to know he’d rolled his eyes.

“Kathia and you weren’t right.”

“No shit.” My lips twitched.

I had no idea if it was the time that had passed that let me be able to laugh about my failed marriage or the fact I was a cynical son of a bitch. But being a cop, now a detective, for so long, seeing the shit I did on a daily basis would do that to you. No one blamed me. Not even Jase.

The asshole had lucked out, though, and I was happy for him. He had a pretty wife waiting for him at home, keeping his bed nice and warm. And she was the real deal, too. They brought out the best in one another. I looked up, and sure enough, there he was frowning away.

“All I’m saying is, maybe stepping away from your desk, getting out in the real world, taking in some sunshine, maybe meeting someone, I don’t know… would do you good. Make you less of a dick to everyone.”

“Meeting someone?” I chuckled. “You want me to download an app now? Swipe up and get my dick wet?”

“It’s swipe right, dumbass. And you know that’s not what I mean. You have a shit ton of PTO. Why not take it?”

“Because what’s the point, Jase?” I sighed, taking my wire-rimmed glasses off my face and pinching the bridge of my nose. “I meet someone, and we’re good until we’re not. Not everyone hits the jackpot like you did.”

The asshole at least had the grace to shut his mouth as quickly as he opened it. He shrugged and smiled. “You’re right. No way you could get as lucky as me.” He pointed at himself, and I laughed.

“Fuck you.” I flipped him off with a shit -grin.

“Yeah, fuck you, too. Try and get some kind of sleep, okay? No reason to have a heart attack before you turn fifty.”

“Jesus. Okay, Mom.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Right.” The moment waved him off, my attention moved to my computer screen, putting on the fucking readers I had to wear now when I worked on my laptop. Getting older fucking sucked. I stared at the screen for so long the letters started to blur and I started to get tired.

“Coffee time,” I muttered to myself. It was a little after three in the morning. I should have been home hours ago but avoided going home like the goddamn plague. There was something about stepping into an empty house that I never took to. Especially one that was in the middle of being renovated.

As I moved through the precinct, I noticed just how quiet it was. The soft lull of music caught my attention, and for some reason, maybe because of how tired I was, I followed it as it led me to one of the far break rooms. I stood to the side watching someone from the cleaning crew walk through the hall. This was normal even if I didn’t recognize who it was.

As I watched her, something about the back of her form made me blink.

Slowly, and unknowingly, I catalogued everything about her. Every detail. I sidestepped so I could watch her without her noticing me. Not that she would. She had earbuds in her ears, and from what I could tell, they were on the highest possible volume setting. A prickle of possession washed over me.

Didn’t she know blasting music like that wasn’t safe?

What if there was an emergency?

What if some asshole tried to creep up on her?

Like you? a voice whispered through my mind. I shook the thought away.

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