Page 62 of High Intensity

It’s not until he grabs his keys off the coffee table, fits his hat back on his head, and aims for the door, I realize I only grabbedmy toothbrush and one change of clothes when we left my house in a hurry.

“Wolff?”

“Yeah?”

He looks back over his shoulder, and it suddenly strikes me how incredibly handsome this man is. Not in any flashy way, he doesn’t have JD’s dark, cut, smoldering looks, or Dan’s stacked physique, but I much prefer Wolff’s swimmer’s body and his calm blue eyes. I’ve even grown to love his longer hair, and nothing beats that little smile he seems to reserve just for me.

I think I may be falling for him.

“I forgot; I don’t have any more clean clothes.”

That smile makes an appearance. “That’s okay, I much prefer you without.”

I roll my eyes.

“That’ll for sure get tongues wagging at Wellspring Senior Living tomorrow,” I fire off in return.

Wolff throws back his head and starts laughing, his eyes crinkling and white teeth flashing.

Oh yeah…I’ve got it bad.

Wolff

It surprises me to find a sheriff’s cruiser parked outside Jillian’s place.

Billy Keegan, one of the deputies, who is sometimes partnered up with Sloane, gets out when I pull up behind him.

“The scene hasn’t been released by the feds yet,” he informs me when I step out of the truck.

“Still? What the hell do they think they’re gonna find here?”

Billy shrugs. “They’re supposed to be back to finish up. There was a task force meeting at our office earlier this morning, and it looks like some of the evidence they found links back to that Puma guy.”

“Stefano Puma?”

“Fingerprints on the gun he dropped.”

All right.

I didn’t get a good look at those guys in the middle of the night. It was dark and I was working on instinct rather than sight when I confronted them. That said, I don’t mind the idea I put a bullet in Puma—that piece of shit—although I have to say, I’m surprised he got his own hands dirty.

I hope he’s hurting.

“What are you doing here?” the deputy wants to know.

“I was hoping to clean up a little, pick up a few things, and make sure the place is locked up,” I explain.

“The cleanup will have to wait, we can call about letting you grab some things, and as for locking the place up, I’ll make sure you’re notified the moment the feds are done with the place.”

I clap him on the shoulder. “That would be helpful.”

Ten minutes later, after a bit of a runaround from SA Bellinger, I’m finally granted permission to go in the house. Of course, with Billy Keegan looking on. As suspected, the place was left a mess, fingerprint powder everywhere, still smudges of blood on the kitchen floor, and just about every drawer, cupboard, and closet door left open.

Billy dutifully follows me around the house, but when he trails me down the hall to Jillian’s bedroom, I stop him.

“Seriously? Her bedroom?”

He grins sheepishly. “Just following orders.”

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