Page 5 of Exposé

What are they looking for?

What did these men do?

A police officer stepped out of the house, a matte black tactical helmet swinging from his grip. I straightened in my seat, eyes tracking his every move.

Broad shoulders, a thick, short black beard framing a jaw set with purpose—this wasn’t another uniform. His buzzed head glistened under the streetlights as he moved with deliberate strides toward a waiting unmarked car.

He opened the car door and leaned in, one hand bracing against the frame.

My pulse jumped, and I threw open my car door. My flats hit the pavement.

The officers bustled around as I glanced toward the house and behind me to the quiet, dark street with a few onlookers standing on their porches.

Tucking my pen and paper into my back pocket, I made my way towards him. “Detective Buchanan.”

He straightened and faced me, the side of his brows drawing down in a tight-knit. “Ava?” Liam looked behind him and shut the door, closing the distance between us. “What are you doing here?”

Liam took my arm and moved me behind the car, out of sight.

“I was in the area…” I shrugged and smiled.

Liam Buchanan, a fixture on the force for more than half a decade, had traded his college days for the badge and gun. He embodied the archetype of the good cop, his reassuring blue eyes and relaxed posture a stark contrast to the gritty underbelly of law enforcement.

And for the better part of those seven years, I’d been a persistent thorn in his side, a relentless pestering that had somehow blossomed into an unexpected camaraderie.

“Listening to police scanners again?”

“Just in the area.” I tucked in behind him, letting his massive shoulders shield me from the officers exiting the house. “A lot of excitement for a late night in the middle of the week.”

Liam crossed his arms over his chest and tipped his head towards the detained men, his forearms bulging against the bulletproof vest. “Drug bust. Third in the past week.”

My eyebrows darted up. “Really? That’s a bit high for this area, right?”

“It’s unusual.”

“Do you think there’s an uptick in drug dealings, or are you honing your skills?” I let a grin creep up, one corner tugging higher than the other, a quiet dare flickering in my eyes as he tapped his fingers against the squad car’s trunk,

His brows pulled together. “Is this off the record, or are you working?”

“Today? It’s off the record.”

He tossed his gaze to the ground, then back up at me, his hand sliding down his jaw. He leaned in a bit closer, the aroma of his leather and citrus cologne reaching my nose. “We’ve been getting tips lately.”

“Anonymous ones?”

Liam nodded.

I raised a brow.

Pressure filled my chest as my mind reeled back.

The same source, maybe?

I toyed with the end of one strand of my hair, pinching the dark brown wave between my fingertips. “Do you think these tips are out of good faith? Or revenge?”

“We’ve entertained the idea of a vigilante.” Liam exhaled. “But it’s all conjecture at this point. Could be anyone with a vendetta? Perhaps a disgruntled dealer turned rogue, playing judge and jury in the shadows. But I doubt it based on how they view cops.” He paused, casting a wary glance over his shoulder. “Whoeverthey are, they’ve got connections, deep ones. The kind that makes our job a hell of a lot easier.”

I gave a brief nod, my chin scrunching. “ Cocaine? Heroine?” I asked, watching one of the police officers pat down the man in jeans.

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