Page 35 of Tapped

I get nothing, followed by bubbles, and then more nothing.

Me – I’m not a complete ass. The sooner we find the hitman, the sooner your son can come home, and you can move on. I want to help you.

I knew that would do it. More bubbles, and she finally relents.

Evita – Funeral is at one. It’s only fifteen minutes from my office.

This time it’s my turn to hesitate.

If I’m going to rip off the bandage, it might as well be for a stranger. Hell, she doesn’t seem the slightest bit affected by the fact she has a funeral on her agenda.

Me – I’ll pick you up at twelve-fifteen. No one wants to be late to a funeral.

Evita – If you’re sure. I should feel guilty, but I want Chase back. I’ll take anything you give me. I’ll send you the pin to my office so you’ll have the address.

Me – I know where you work.

I should tell her that I know more about her than she realizes. But she’s already late, and I need a shower.

Evita – Staying awake all night for me and taking me to a funeral. I’m going to be your least favorite person in no time.

I shut down my computer and toss the coffee cup in the trash.

Me – We’ll see about that.

* * *

Evie

“Someone is askingfor you at the front desk. And from what Jenny says, he is not a patient.”

I look up from my laptop where I’m updating a file as my insides clench tighter than they do at my barre class. It’s a few minutes after twelve. My special agent is early.

Unless it’s not him. Jenny has reported on the security guard my father sent all morning. He paces the waiting room and glares at every patient who walks through the door. We’re a full-service practice with our own specialties, so it’s not just the elderly shuffling through. The office manager isn’t happy and has asked me twice if it’s possible for him to tone it down.

I’ve only spent a short time with Vincent, but I can honestly say, toning it down is probably not going to happen.

He has no chill, and he’s freaking me out more than I was already.

“Who is it?” I ask. “What does he look like?”

Naomi has been my nurse since I started at the practice, but in that time, she’s turned into the best friend I didn’t know I needed. I also told her about the DEA agent who spent the night at my house, is taking me to a funeral, and I might have described his tattoos with great detail. “If this isn’t your date to the funeral, then take me down now—I won’t be able to handle the real thing.”

“You’re not helping,” I bite. “It’s hard enough to focus not knowing who I’m supposed to hide from, texting my mom between patients to check on Chase, and knowing Micah is picking me up for a funeral.”

She moves in and folds her arms across her blue scrubs. “He looks like a linebacker who just stepped off a private jet to play in the Super Bowl. He’s in a suit, and good God, Evie, he does not look like he belongs in a suit even though he wears it well. I’m talking, his rough edges are magnificent. As good as he looks in a suit, it’s covering the tattoos. I vote we put him in an exam room and give him nothing but a paper gown. He’ll rip right through that sucker like the Hulk, and my life will be complete. Please. Can we make that happen?” She pauses and narrows her eyes. “Wait, is he married?”

I close my eyes. It takes me a deep breath to get my shit together. Anticipation pours off Naomi in spades, as if the exam room and paper gown are a real option.

“That’s Micah—or, Special Agent Emmett. It has to be. And how am I supposed to know if he’s married? Though he stayed at my house all night—I can’t imagine his wife would be too happy about that if he has one.” I grab the enormous bag that comes with me wherever I go, plus my water and cell. “I’ll be back. The test results for Mrs. Nowak are in her file along with her new prescription. Could you please call her and explain her new meds? If she can get her daughter to download a coupon, that will help offset the cost. She was worried about that.”

“Will do. I want to know everything that happens at the funeral besides the funeral stuff. Every fucking detail.”

I stop in front of her and lower my voice. “You act like we’re going to prom. He’s taking me to the funeral to talk to me because I have no time in my schedule today. He wants to know about the accident.”

Her face falls. “Why?”

Our office building is old and the walls aren’t exactly soundproof, so I whisper, “Because I realized this morning that it might have been a failed attempt to kill Chase and me. It was horrific and bizarre and should’ve never happened. The fact Chase and I are alive today is a miracle. It didn’t hit me until this morning, but I think that was Jeff’s first attempt to take us down. Hell, no one could explain my car going haywire other than it being a fluke. If it was Jeff’s doing, he almost got away with it.”

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