Page 9 of Breaking Rules

Jo smiled, her heart swelling with pride. “I think that’s a fantastic idea. You have such a talent for baking. And cooking.” She held up her forkful of stuffed pepper.

Bridget’s smile broadened. “I’m seriously considering it. I can’t keep relying on you forever. It’s time I stood on my own two feet, and maybe I’ll get a job in the culinary field.”

Jo reached out, touching Bridget’s hand gently. “You’re not a burden, you know. But I support you, whatever you decide.”

“Thanks. Oh, I fed Finn.”

Jo glanced toward the fish tank in the living room. Finn, her goldfish, swam back and forth amid the air bubbles drifting toward the surface. “Thanks.”

They talked a bit about their day, and then the conversation shifted to a more somber topic. Bridget’s expression turned serious. “Holden called earlier. They’ve found five bodies at the Webster residence. They’d been there a long time. None of them are Tammy, though.”

Jo’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of their sister, who had been abducted when she was a child. They’d recently caught the killer after decades of searching and discovered where all the victims were buried. They’d given DNA samples to the FBI, hoping for a match that might bring closure to their family’s long-held agony.

“That’s... both relieving and heartbreaking,” Jo murmured, a mix of emotions swirling within her.

Bridget nodded solemnly. “He said some of the families might finally get closure. But there are a few they can’t identify yet. It’s tragic, thinking about those lost children. How can it be that no one knows they are missing?”

Bridget methodically cleared the dinner table, surrounded by the comforting hum of the kitchen appliances. The plates clinked as she stacked them, her movements efficient and practiced. Wrapping up some leftovers, she thought of Pickles on the porch. Providing for him had become a small but significant part of her daily routine, instilling a sense of purpose and connection in her new life.

Stepping into the chilly night, Bridget carried a plate of food to Pickles, who was still nestled in his makeshift shelter. The cat, recognizing her presence, looked up with cautious amber eyes. "Here you go," she murmured softly, setting the plate down. The cold air bit at her skin, but caring for Pickles filled her with a warm sense of responsibility.

Kneeling beside the box, she gently stroked Pickles’s fur. "You know, winter's coming," she said thoughtfully. "Maybe think about coming inside? But if not, I'll make sure you're warm and fed." Her words, meant for Pickles, echoed her own longing for safety and comfort, a subtle reminder of her need for a secure haven.

As she stood, her gaze drifted into the dark night beyond the porch. Memories of her tumultuous past surfaced, contrasting starkly with the tranquility she had found living with Jo. The darkness seemed to hold both fears and possibilities.

A shiver ran through her, not from the night's cold but from a lingering fear. She’d recently thought she’d seen someone following her—a shadow from her past that she hadn't mentioned to Jo. This person knew things that Bridget didn’t want anyone to discover.

"Maybe it was just my imagination," she whispered into the night, trying to dismiss her fears. The possibility of her past catching up with her loomed in her mind, unsettling her newfound peace.

Resolutely, Bridget stood taller, a determined glint in her eyes. She was building a new future here, one she was fiercely determined to protect. Maybe she would have to take steps to guard herself. Just as a precaution. Fear would no longer dictate her life. She was prepared to do whatever she needed to secure her future.

CHAPTER SIX

Sam and Lucy arrived at the White Rock Police Department early the next morning. They met Reese coming out of the door with a trash bag. Lucy sniffed the bag and then backed away.

“What’s in there?” Sam asked.

“Litter box cleanout.” Reese wrinkled her nose.

“Oh, right.” Sam made a mental note to show his appreciation for Reese more. She did a lot of the little things that kept the station running, and she would be missed when she graduated from the academy. Sam had been lobbying to add an additional position so he could hire her, but so far, no luck.

Jo was already there, poring over some files at her desk. Wyatt was tapping away at his computer, looking unusually serious. Kevin was at the filing cabinet, filing something. Major looked down with his luminescent gaze as if mentally trying to direct Kevin as to where to put the file.

“Just got the ME report from John.” Wyatt tapped his computer screen. “Alex had water in his lungs. Cause of death is drowning, but that’s not all.”

Jo leaned in, her eyes narrowing. “What else did they find?”

“Alex had alcohol in his blood,” Wyatt continued, “and also temazepam.”

Kevin frowned. “Temazepam? Isn’t that a sedative?”

Wyatt nodded. “Yes, and Alex didn’t have a prescription for it. Someone probably drugged him.”

Sam rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe someone slipped that into his drinks at the bar.”

Jo nodded. “He might have been unconscious or too drugged to help himself when he drowned.”

“It increasingly looks like homicide,” Sam concluded, his tone resolute.

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