Page 71 of Anything For This Love

My hand goes to the back of my neck and I squeeze it nervously. “I passed some information along to my father to see if he could help. He reached out to some friends who could do something with that information.”

“Isthatwhy you asked me all those questions about who I used to work for in Detroit?” Raven asks.

During our little heart-to-heart where she agreed to go to treatment, I’d gotten her to tell me about Mantel and where he conducted business. She was afraid he’d somehow get to her while she was in treatment and didn’t want those secrets dying with her. She gave me names and places. Some of what she told me gave me chills and churned my stomach. I understood then why she’d run from them.

“Yes.”

“Wait a minute,” Raven says, shaking her head in confusion. “All it took was you relaying what I told you? They didn’t need to question me?”

This is where things become difficult and a little muddied. I knew Raven wouldn’t want to talk to the cops for fear of retaliation if Mantel found out. That’s why I told my father it had to be reported as an anonymous tip. Whether that’s how it was relayed to the FBI and DEA, I have no idea, but the official report shows it was anonymous.

“I knew you didn’t want this coming back on you, so I made it clear your name couldn’t be mentioned anywhere or recorded on any documents pertaining to this case. They were given a location and an anonymous tip that there was suspicious activity there. Looks like they found the barrels.”

Her lip quivers and tears break free, slipping past her lashes and down her cheeks. Mickey’s body would long ago have been dissolved by the acid, but there were newer victims, some that hadn’t been disposed of yet. Those unfortunate victims are the proverbial smoking gun in this case and will lead to a life sentence for the man who ordered their murders.

Raven blinks away tears and extends her hand to shake mine. “Thank you.” Her voice cracks, but she maintains her composure as I nod my acknowledgement. Ama wraps an arm around her shoulder and leads her out of the room, talking to her in a low, soothing voice.

When my eyes find Abby’s, she looks upon me with wonder and appreciation. I open my arms and she immediately rushes into my embrace. “You’re amazing. Have I ever told you that?”

“Maybe once or twice.” She giggles and squeezes me tighter.

“That monster deserves to be put away, and you had a hand in that.” She tilts her head back, resting her chin on my chest, her eyes still damp but brightening. “You and Arthur both. If the American people truly knew how honest, compassionate, and genuine your father is, it would be a landslide victory for him.”

“He’s a good man,” I agree, hoping my children can one day say the same about me.

I thought leavingmy family would get easier with time, but on the Sunday afternoons I have to say goodbye to them, it hurts just as much as it did the first time. The urge to move closer grows with every drive back to Arlington. I’ve weighed my options and have already started looking for jobs that will bring me closer. Realty sites have been bookmarked on my browser and I’ve calculated how far Abby would have to travel for work from each location where I’ve found a home that suits us. But I haven’t foundthe oneyet.

Another project to complete and another deadline looms over my head when I return to my office Monday morning. I’ve never wished away my days as fiercely as I do this week. My brother is coming home from college, so I plan to spend some time with him. Abby is working this weekend, so I’ll be sticking close to home and hanging out with Logan.

My wish is granted as the week seems to speed by quicker than normal. Work is insane, leaving barely enough time to grab a sandwich to eat at my desk while I address the ever-growing pile of emails I’ve been neglecting. Friday afternoon, Erin saunters into my office with a folder in her hand. I suppress a sigh, trying not to let her sudden appearance at the end of the day ruin my good mood.

“Can you sign off on this, please?” she asks, passing the folder to me.

I open it up and scan over the document. Since becoming team leader a couple months ago, I’ve had to review everyone’s proposals before they can be passed on for final approval. Hers is due Monday morning. Talk about waiting until the last minute. I have a couple other pressing matters to attend to before I can deal with this, so I set it aside.

I glance back at her. “I have a couple things to take care of first. Can you come back for it in a bit? I’ll call you when it’s ready,” I offer.

“Okay!” she responds cheerily.

Once I’ve tackled the rest of my tasks, I pick up the folder and check it over thoroughly. Her work is meticulous and quite good. She rarely makes mistakes, not even a typo. Some of the stuff Simon and Jerry turn in is barely readable. I’m not sure they even know what punctuation is. I call Erin back right as I’m shutting down my computer and grab my suit jacket. It’s too warm to put it on, so I drape it over my arm, leaving my shirt sleeves rolled up. That’s the one thing I hate about wearing a suit to work. It may look sharp and give off an air of professionalism, but it gets downright stifling in warmer months.

I stand from my desk as Erin enters my office. She’s changed her clothes since being in here an hour ago and her strawberry blonde hair now cascades over her shoulders instead of being pulled into a neat bun. Her lips are painted deep red and her eyes look darker. The sudden change startles me, but I shake away my surprise and grab my gym bag. She crosses the room quickly, meeting me in front of my desk. I hand the folder to her, trying to maintain a professional distance.

“Thanks for taking a look at this. I know it was last minute,” she says softly, looking up at me from under darkened lashes.

“It’s no problem.” I give her a tight smile as I pull the strap of my gym bag over my head to rest on my shoulder. I plan to go straight to my parents’ after work and work out with Logan before dinner.

“I was wondering,” she begins, looking away and biting her lip.Oh, no. This can’t be good.“I’m meeting some of my friends for drinks later, but I thought maybe you and I could grab dinner first.”

Stunned, I stare at her a moment, letting her words sink in. For some reason, she takes my hesitation as her opening and steps closer to me, placing her hand on my arm. Her manicured fingers curl around my bicep.

“I think we could have a lot of fun together.” Her voice comes out sultry, her eyes dropping to my mouth. I finally snap out of my haze and take a large step away from her.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I know there’s a connection here. Tell me you don’t feel it, too.” She seems utterly confident that what she’s feeling isn’t one sided. Well, it is.

“You know I’m with Abby,” I grind out. Anger rolls through me. How could she be so bold? She’s met Abby. She knows we have a child. And for God’s sake, we’re at work.

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