Page 20 of Wicked Sin

The door opens behind me.

And just like that, the air in the room gets a bit lighter. It’s easier for Taylor to breathe.

Sarah closes the door, and then leans against. “I’m going to stay,” she says dryly. “Y’all seem like you could use a chaperone.”

I don’t look over at her. My attention is all on Taylor. “Do we, Princess?” I murmur under my breath. “How about you? Can you play well with others?”

She glares at me. But she doesn’t move.

I lower my voice even more. “Trust me, Taylor. Give me something to work with here.”

Searching my face, she wavers. I can see it. And then, in a whisper, she says, “This is way beyond your pay grade, Detective.”

My pulse jacks up.Bring it on.“Let me be the judge of that.”

8

Taylor

I shouldn’t have saidthat. I don’t know why I did, but now that it’s hanging in the air between us, my mind is spinning to cover it up.

Which means I can’t just walk out.

Fucking fuck.

I step back from him and pull out my chair. For extra measure, I give the female cop an arch look. “Could I have some water?”

Her lips twitch in an almost-smile. “Sure.”

Vasquez waits until she returns with a too-small cup for me before he begins. “As I was saying before we were interrupted, your accounts have been temporarily frozen by the FBI.”

“That isn’t exactly what you said,” I point out. “He said that when he came in. Let’s not forget that you’re just as much in the dark about all of this as I am.”

“Sure.” He taps his fingers on the mysterious folder that promises we’re notexactlyin the same amount of confusion here.

Whatever.

I take a deep breath.

It’s fine. I don’t need the money. My sister Hailey has lived without our parents’ money for years now. I can try it. I should try it. This is a good thing.

Sure. Maybe if I tell myself that enough times, I’ll believe it eventually.

I’ve done a lot of soul searching over the last three years. Learned to deal with the consequences of my past decisions. Accept my failings and see them as a clear path for repentance and rehabilitation.

But I’m stillme. I still like money, and pampering myself, and I definitely don’t like to be weak. No money is a real problem.

“So, just to clarify.” I look at the folder. “You can see all of my financial details in there?”

“Why?”

“I have two trust funds,” I point out. “Just—”

Detective Vasquez looks at me like I’m an idiot. “Yes, both of your illegally grown trust funds are frozen.”

“Allegedly illegal. And it was just a question. It’ll be hard for me to get to the bottom of this if I don’t have access to my usual funds.”

“You aren’t getting to the bottom of anything,” he says, incredulity dripping off his words. “But that does bring us back to the very interesting question of what is beyond my pay grade.”

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