Page 104 of Love Me Fierce

He’s using a firm, no-nonsense tone that makes my spine stiffen.

“Sure.”

“I finally heard back from my contact in L.A. The California Attorney General’s office is building a case against a small group of corrupt cops.”

I squint my eyes shut so I can get my brain in gear, but ideas just splinter in a hundred differentdirections.

Corrupt cops. As in taking bribes. Enabling criminals. Abusing their power.

Fuck me.

Is Vivian’s ex one of the cops they’re investigating? Is Kent dirty?

“They’re all vice, but I don’t have names, so don’t ask.”

A sick feeling drops through my gut. “Got it,” I say, even though I’m liking this intel less and less.

That the AG didn’t share names with Luke isn’t a surprise. Federal agents don’t work their cases like state or city law enforcement. We strike first, build the case as we go. The feds work in secret, gathering evidence and lining up all the pieces and players well before making any kind of arrest.

I rub down my chin and stare out my rainy windshield. “Any idea when they’ll move forward?”

He barks a laugh. “No. And under no circumstances are you to take it any further.”

The last thing I want to do is jeopardize a federal investigation that will bring down dirty cops, but knowing only half the story doesn’t sit well with me, either. “Understood.”

Ballard and I are ending our call when a brown Buick pulls into the trailer across from Vivian’s. The woman behind the wheel steps out and pops open an umbrella, cowering beneath it in the rain as she shuffles to her trunk.

I should really get on the road, but when I see a row of grocery bags lining her trunk, I jump down from my truck to help her.

“Need some help, ma’am?” I come at her from the side so I don’t spook her.

She turns, squinting. “Goodness. Where did you come from?”

“I was visiting one of your neighbors,” I say. “We actually talked earlier today. I’m Deputy Everett Rumsey.”

“You’re not in uniform?”

“No, I’m off duty.”

Understanding fills her eyes. “Well, I’ll happilyaccept your offer.”

“Why don’t you go unlock your door, and I’ll follow with these?”

She gives me a thoughtful smile. “Thank you.”

While she walks toward her unit, I gather the three bags of groceries and shut the trunk, then hurry after her. Her long ramp is pasted with sandpaper strips, probably for added traction, and her tidy stoop is decorated for Halloween. She steps inside and I follow.

The layout of her place mirrors Vivian’s. A short hall leads to the living room and kitchen area to the left, with the bedroom and bathroom to the right. Just like Vivian’s, there’s a big window looking into the center of the trailer park, and Mrs. Ovenell’s has a direct line of sight to Vivian’s unit.

“Would you like to talk now? I have fresh banana bread,” she says as I follow her into the simple kitchen.

In the lights, her pale blue eyes have a playful, lively gleam. It could mean she has something to say, or it could mean she’s a lonely old woman and any chance to entertain delights her.

I’m torn. I need to get home, grab Logan from Grant’s house, and get him to bed soon.

Though if I can bang out this interview, that’s one less thing I have to do tomorrow in an already busy day. And Logan isn’t going to mind playing video games with Grant a little longer.

I set Mrs. Ovenell’s groceries on the counter. “If you have time, why not? Please don’t bother with the banana bread though.”

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