Page 27 of Hemlock

I found nothing among her belongings to indicate that she's involved in any other business with Wilkinson other than covering shifts at the bar, but a good criminal isn't going to leave out ledgers and proof for anyone to find. She also doesn't have a safe or any form of valuables. She doesn't have a box of stuff in the back of her closet with secrets.

The minimal recon I've been able to do on Tommy Wilkinson is leaning toward a small-scale prostitution ring rather than actual sex trafficking, but even if the girls are willing to work for the man now doesn't mean he isn't up to even more dangerous shit. I've seen how some pimps will turn on their women if they have a change of heart on any given day. What we think he may be doing is still very criminal and illegal, and it's something we need to shut down.

I wanted to move on from this case and call it like it is, but I've been instructed to wait and see. There's always a chance we'll catch him with a down-on-her-luck, underaged girl who ran away from home.

"You want a beer or a bottle of water?" she asks, and I shake my head in response.

I stare at her as she pulls off her thick coat, revealing arms already covered in goosebumps.

"Are you afraid of me?" I ask, sincerely wanting to know.

"No," she whispers.

"That's a mistake," I return, watching as she keeps her eyes on me while she kicks off her shoes.

The woman doesn't dress the way I've seen a lot of female bartenders dress. She doesn't wear revealing, tight clothes, as if she's trying to entice the customers to tip better. With it being mostly locals here, I imagine her wardrobe plays a very small part in how much money she makes on any given night.

When her tongue skates out over her lips, I read her body's reaction to what it is, arousal. She's turned on, not afraid.

I risk fucking this all up with my next words.

"You said you weren't fucking Wilkinson, but he can't seem to keep his hands to himself when he's around you."

The memory of him pressing a kiss to her temple makes me want to drag her into the shower and scrub her body clean, and he didn't even show his face at the bar tonight. The man shouldn't have the ability to slip into my head the way he does.

Zara pulls in a deep breath, as she stares at me, and I can tell she's giving me an opportunity to change the subject, but I won't back down. As much as I want to sink inside of her tight cunt, I have a job to do.

"You really want to talk about Tommy right now?"

I cross my arms over my chest, raising an eyebrow in response.

She looks disgusted, and I like it, but I also need any information she may have.

"Tommy is my brother-in-law. Well, he's my ex-brother-in-law. I recently got divorced from his asshole brother. He offered me a job when I didn't have anywhere else to land."

I know all of this. It was in her file.

"The temple kisses?" she asks with a look of disgust on her face and an all-over shiver as if she's completely repulsed by the idea of him. "I don't know why he does that."

"He shouldn't touch you if you don't want it."

"And I should be able to find work where I don't get hit on by every other man, including the married ones, but life isn't as simple as being happy and doing something that you love."

Instead of staying to talk to me, she turns and leaves the room, walking down the short hallway that leads to the only other two rooms in the house, a bedroom, and a bathroom.

Of course, I follow her. I'm not going to leave without getting the information I need.

Hell, her ass looks too good in her jeans to just walk away.

She's stripping herself naked as if she doesn't have a care in the world. When all of her clothes are tossed in the direction of her dirty clothes hamper, she turns to the side and walks right past me, heading into the bathroom.

The sound of the shower turning on meets my ears, and I find her behavior nothing short of fascinating. It's clear she's annoyed with my line of questioning, but she hasn't told me to leave the way one would expect her to do.

I stand in the doorway of the bathroom, wishing her shower was a little more updated and had a glass door rather than a cheap curtain that reveals nothing as she bathes.

"Billy left me with nothing," she says, startling me. "When the cops went through all of his bank shit, they froze all the assets. Said that the only thing I could keep was the last check I had deposited in our joint account. They seized the house and took the cars. They didn't give a shit that they left me homeless with no other options."

I look up to meet her eyes when she pulls back the curtain so I can see her face. She pulls in a long breath, releasing it slowly before pulling the curtain back into place and speaking again.

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