Page 49 of Her Silver Fox Firefighters
Almost instantly, a smile blooms across Dax’s handsome face, and I know that I’m doing the right thing. His quiet approval fills me with glowing pride, and I realize I want to see him like this more often. I want him to always be proud of me.
“I need you to tell me everything you know about Marcus and the people you think he’s hurt or killed, starting with your friend Chloe. If her body shows up anywhere, I should be able to trace it through the nationwide system. The same if she ends up in a hospital or on a gas station camera, if she’s alive and moving. Until we have a body, we can’t rule anything out for sure.”
Dax goes back to the food truck and returns with a round of fresh lemonade for everyone while I tell Carlos the full story, from the moment I met Marcus up to the moment I arrived in Ember Ridge.
Once in a while, I steal glances at Leo, Beck, and Luke. At one point, Dax joins them, and they frolic about in the water before getting something to eat. I’d like nothing more than to be with them, but what Carlos and I are doing is important. Beck returns to the table, eagerly listening to our exchange.
“And in all your time working for Marcus, did you makebackups of any files, anything at all that IA might use against him?” Carlos asks eagerly.
Beck’s eyes light up, and I know he’s wondering why they didn’t think about asking me that when I first told them my story. But he says nothing, swirling the paper straw through his lemonade, ice cubes crinkling in the mild vortex.
“I did,” I say to Carlos. “But I don’t think it’s enough to immediately throw Marcus in jail. Maybe in the right hands, it could fuel an investigation.”
“I’m going to need everything you have.”
“First, I need proof that someone is investigating the man. I need some assurances,” I reply.
Carlos looks befuddled. Beck can’t believe his ears.
“Wait, what?”
“I mean it, Beck. The last time I went to somebody on the police force about this, I was run out of town,” I say, remembering my first day on the road after I left Devon. “I made it to New Jersey, and I went into the first precinct I could find to tell them about what I had just escaped. The detective there sat me down, listened, and then he told me to wait in the interview room. He left his phone on the table while he went out to do whatever, and it rang. Who do you think was calling him?”
“Marcus.”
“I got out of there so fast, driving like there was an asteroid about to touch down in Jersey. So forgive me if I don’t have blind faith in the police right now,” I scoff. “I’ll need something solid before I give you everything I have on that man.In the right hands, it could take him down. But in the wrong hands?—”
Carlos picks up on my concern. “It could be buried or even used against you.”
I give him a firm nod. “Precisely.”
“Alright. I’ll start making some calls, arrange a meeting with my NYPD buddies first and foremost. It will take me a few days,” he says.
“That’s okay. I’m not going anywhere,” I tell him and reach across the table for Beck’s hand. He takes mine and gives it a good squeeze, his thumb massaging the soft spot between my thumb and index finger.
It sends a wave of tingling sensations up my arm.
“Oh, look at that,” a familiar yet grating voice reaches my ears.
It draws an immediate scowl from Beck as he follows my gaze, and I hear an exasperated groan leave Carlos’s throat as he, too, sees her coming. Jocelyn, wearing a beaded sarong over her turquoise bikini, casually strolls over.
Her eyes are hidden beneath large, gold-rimmed sunglasses, her long hair pulled back with a clip at the base of her neck. She looks casually fabulous and unbothered, drawing attention from most of those around her while I suddenly feel queasy and big, not unlike a beached whale.
Fortunately, my self-esteem has a way of smacking me across the face whenever I slip into one of these states, and I shake the insecure thoughts away.
“It would be wise if you walked in the other direction,” Carlos politely warns her.
She smiles in response, and I don’t like it one bit.
“Why? I’m not causing anybody any trouble. You forget, Carlos, darling, I’m still the ADA of this district, and you and I will have a lot of cases to prosecute in the future,” she says, then looks at me. “I figured you’d have scrammed out of Ember Ridge by now.”
“I figured you’d remember what I last told you, Jocelyn,” Beck cuts in.
“Oh, you must mean those thinly veiled threats you gave if I were to speak my mind freely,” Jocelyn retorts, brimming with a newfound confidence that frankly unsettles me. “Last time I checked, this was a free country, Beck. You’re not the thought police.”
“I’m all for civilized discourse, Jocelyn.”
“Speaking of civilized, why are you hanging out with a criminal? Consorting with felons is beneath you,” she says.
