Page 63 of Forbidden Bond

“Any messages?”

The receptionist handed over a stack of notes and a small box. “That came today.”

And she was almost afraid to open it. No return address, nothing identifying, just her name and work’s address.

Evander? Maybe.

“Thanks.”

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Lucy asked, bouncing closer. “Is it a gift? Is it diamonds?”

“With the time I’m having recently, it could just as easily be a grenade,” she said, broadening her smile while the bubbly woman shrank. “I don’t know if you want to be around when I open it.” In the corner of her eye, Tulip walked by Steeple’s office. “Ah, excuse me.”

Dashing across the bullpen, ignoring the whispers and stares, she put herself in Tulip’s path.

“Sersha,” Tulip said, wary or surprised, maybe both. “You bailed on me.”

“I bailed on a lot of people, tough times.”

“Steeple said you were on leave, grief, right?”

Somehow that came across as genuine, despite the cynicism staring at her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disappear.” Really honestly hadn’t meant to. “Do you want to talk?”

“Now?” Tulip looked left to right. “You want to talk now?”

Loyalty was crucial. If someone had it out for them, for Conn, she wanted to know.

“I want the CI’s name,” she said. “What do you want in return?”

“The price for—”

“I’ll pay it. Today. Right now.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Are you fucking with me?”

“No, I only do that with my boyfriend, he gets jealous otherwise. You want answers or not?”

This was one loose end she wanted tied up pronto. Adapt quickly, that’s what Conn said. Anyone out there working against them needed to be taken down quick and easy. The witness who’d fingered Conn for her grandpapa’s murder could have an agenda. Despite his new affiliation with her guy, Lachlan might still be reluctant to share the name. Her father would bemore inclined to, if he thought it would save his skin, though, with him, it couldn’t be her doing the asking.

The best part about it? While shuffling into the interview room by Steeple’s office, with its half-glazed wall, the gawping and gossiping rose to a whispering fever pitch. Nowhere saw more intrigue and speculation than the Chronicler’s investigative floor.

“Is he pissed?”

Tearing her attention from out there, she sat down with Tulip. “Hmm?”

“Ire, is he pissed?”

“Most of the time,” she said. “You referencing something specific?”

“I don’t get it. How can you be with a guy like him?”

“Excuse me?”

“He’s hot, goddamn, he’s hot. And I don’t expect everyone’s moral compass to be pointing north all the time, but he’s… consumed by it.”

“By his moral compass?”

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