Page 80 of Reclaimed

“Here comes trouble,” Ruben says as he stops to top off Corjan’s glass.

“I didn’t get to congratulate you at Sunset. We have a new father in our midst.” Silas claps my shoulder, sending me forward half a foot. My beer comes dangerously close to spilling over the rim and all over my hand.

“How’s Spencer by the way?” I set my drink down before it becomes a casualty of Silas’s playful mood.

He hooks his thumbs into his police vest. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him yet.”

“What do you mean you haven’t seen him?”

Silas runs his hand over the back of his head. “Ah. It’s been a little strained. I’m trying to give him time, but Sutton is on him like a K9. Doesn’t know when to back off.”

A brief smile splits my face at the similarities to my own situation.

“How’s the auction planning going?” I ask, scooping a handful of warm, salty popcorn from the dish on the bar.

“I don’t know a whole lot about that. Ask him.” Silas nods at Corjan.

I turn a sheepish look on my brother. “How’s it going?”

“We have some pretty steep donations. I think it’s going to be a huge success. We could use you for the adoption portion of it that day. Lee and I decided that we’ll donate 100% of the profits from the dogs to Spencer. We got a new pregnant momma on the last transport. We should have a litter of Catahoulas that’ll be about nine weeks old then if all goes well with her.”

“I’ll be there.” I flick a kernel in his direction.

“Didn’t doubt you wouldn’t be.”

“I’m sure Isla would want to come too.”

“She could donate a lap dance to the highest bidder.” Silas waggles his eyebrows.

I scowl, shove back my stool, and push up the sleeves of my Henley. “You take that fancy vest off and say that again.”

Silas holds his palms out toward me. The shit-eating grin on his face remains. “I get it. She’s off limits.”

“You keep her name out of your mouth and don’t speak of her dancing again.”

“Even if it’s in regard to the serial killer?”

Corjan groans and drops his head back between his shoulders. “Dammit, Silas. You always say the dumbest shit. One of these days, you’re going to get knocked the fuck out. Almost did it myself,” he grumbles.

“What can I say? I’m a ladies’ man.”

“More like a fucking playboy,” I growl. “What do you know about the serial killer?”

“Nothing since the last time I talked to you.”

I rest my foot on the rung of Corjan’s chair. “Another woman’s been murdered since the last time I talked to you.”

His eyebrows almost disappear beneath his long hair. “How do you know that?”

I glance quickly between Silas and Corjan. “Because Isla knew her.”

“Shit,” Silas says.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Corjan adds.

“So spill. You have any leads at all? A description? A motive?”

The stool to my left screeches loudly as Silas pulls it out. He straddles the top, and sits, resting his sole on the bottom rung. “I told you, there’s nothing. Either this guy knows how to evade cameras or he disables them. The girl fit the profile of the others. Single, young, blonde, and a stripper. You said Isla knew her?”

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