Page 20 of Say My Name

“I’m also a detective. They’ve trained me to do this, Ashley.”

Ashley holds her hands up. “Well, I can still worry about you. Remember the time in elementary school? When Jimmy Parks pulled your hair and kicked your lunchbox?”

“I was five.”

“So. I still fought him off for you. I was only seven, and I made sure everyone at that school knew not to fuck with you.”

I roll my eyes at the memory. “Mrs. Haverhill didn’t appreciate you yelling at all the kindergarteners in her class.”

Ashley shrugs. “Well, I can’t have anyone picking on my little sis.”

I pull the bag strap over my shoulder. “I’m not little anymore. I’m a big girl who can make big grown-up decisions.”

Ashley nods. “Ok, you don’t have to tell me anything. Just blink twice if it has anything to do with those Greedy Girl murders.”

I stare at her, and then blink twice.I can’t help it.

“I knew it,” she shrieks. I’m on the fence whether she’s happy I’m on the case or excited that she guessed right until she says, “You should quit the force.”

A laugh escapes me as we make our way to the front entrance of the YMCA. “I’m not quitting.”

Ashley stops me. “This is serious, Chloe. You might get hurt.”She grabs my arm. “Like, seriously hurt.”

“This is my job. Just like you go to work every day and do your job.”

“Selling homes differs greatly from chasing bad guys.”

That’s a great point. One I ponder while I try to come up with something to reassure my sister I know what I’m doing, even if I really don’t. Looks like I am no Sherlock Holmes. I thought I’d start the job and things would fall into place easily and there’d be clues all over the club. But there’s not.

In fact, now that I work at Club Greed, I feel like I’m getting further away from solving anything.

I shrug and go with, “I’ll be fine.”

The sun shines high in the sky when we exit the front doors of the YMCA and head toward our cars in the lot.

“Have you met the owner?”

I nod.

“And?”

I make a zipping motion across my lips.

“Tell me, Chloe. Is he as hot in person as he looks on TV?”she asks, eyes wide with her hands clasped in front of her in anticipation.

So, I tell her the truth. “No.”

Her face falls. “What? Really?”

“He’s hotter.”

Chapter 7

Devereaux

“Eight ball, corner pocket,” I say, leaning over the pool table in my office to line up my shot.

Roman and Ledger groan as I sink the ball, ending the game.

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