Page 7 of Sighs By the Sea

“Seems like IT might be code for some shady shit.”

Chuckling, I shake my head. "You have got to stop watching Law and Order, Har."

He shakes a finger at me. "The dark web is real, woman!"

“Okay, yes, it is." I roll my eyes. "But it's probably simpler than that. Occam's razor, Harry. He probably likes video games. I’ll get his bank account info, see if I can get some serial numbers.”

“Okay then. Detective Maggie is on the case. Where’s my burger?”

I laugh. “In the car. Let’s go.” But as we start out, I feel a crunch under my shoe. I bend down and lift my foot. “Glove?” I ask over my shoulder.

Harry digs in his pocket. He always keeps a few latex gloves there. After he hands it to me, I slip one on and pick up the paper. “Oh shit.”

It’s a black-and-white printout with a small square photo and address. “What is it?”

I’m not sure. But I recognize the name and picture.

Grayson Cardenas. The memory surfaces immediately. I handled his confession about laundering money for the mob.

“Fuck,” I say.

"This looks like a contract. Grayson flipped on the Chernobog Brotherhood.”

“I know that," I say, feeling my cheeks heat up. “Last I heard, Grayson was in a federal prison.” The picture on the page doesn’t do Grayson justice. It’s a headshot, maybe from an old license. I had minimal experience with the man, but one thing was clear; he was sexy. Dark, tall, broad shoulders, broody. My catnip.

“Doesn’t mean he’s safe. You know how these mobs work.”

“True. We should call and get him in isolation until we know more.”

Harry nods. “All right. Bag it, and we can go process. Probably should grab his router too.” I nod and go behind the desk to unplug it. Both items go into a plastic bag. The department’s IT team will try to pull some browser history from it.

As we walk out with our goodies, I remove my glove. Harry is on the phone, and I hear some of the conversation.

“All right, thanks for the heads up.”

He hangs up and looks at me. “Grayson Cardenas was released seven days ago.”

Fuck. That's not a good sign. Barely a week and people are already wanting his head. “Where’s he at?”

“San Diego. Got a job with his sister according to a W4 that was filed under his social.”

“Can San Diego handle a check-in for us?”

Harry shrugs. “Probably. But if this is related to your bust…” he lets the sentence linger. I could definitely stand to see Grayson again. A little eye candy to end my long Friday shift. Plus, the guy is far enough away that I’m in no danger of letting myself get carried away. Besides, criminals in general disgust me. Can't help it. I'm a cop. That's probably why my relationships fail. To my utter dismay, I like a bad boy. If they cross the line into criminal territory, I get the ick. But if they're clean-cut, I get bored within a few weeks. I'm probably destined to be single forever with those two things battling it out.

Yes, Grayson is a beautiful man, but I can keep myself in check. “I don’t mind the drive.”

“San Diego it is, then. I’ll let the captain know.”

I smile. There’s nothing I love more than the thrill of investigating, and this one has a certain alluring man right in the center.

Grayson

Walking into the surf shack, I weave through the crowd waiting at the curb. The salty breeze from the ocean mingles with the scent of sunscreen and coconut wax, like summer cocktail of smells. Tommy is signing shirts at a table near the front, his blonde hair flopped onto his forehead, and a goofy grin stretched across his sun-tanned face.

It’s my first day on site, and I want to check the inventory on hand before totaling up the accounts. Miranda has done a commendable job with Penny’s help, but this is one of the bad spots. I’ll be counting sunscreen and t-shirts well into the afternoon, but it has to be done.

Sam is behind the counter. The overhead music is soft, but she's singing along, her body bobbing with the beat, lost in the rhythm. I feel my cheeks flush. It’s impossible not to notice she’s a beautiful woman, and I’ve been in prison for a long time. But she’s absolutely off-limits. Even in my mind. After all she’s done for me, she needs to be like a sister. I don’t have any real sisters, but cousin? Yes. Like Tilly and Miranda. She looks up and smiles at me.