“Serious until it’s not, or serious-serious?”
Cupping the back of my neck, I scrub the hair on my nape. “Serious-serious.”
“Holy fucking shit, Rhys Abbot has been lassoed. I never thought I’d see the day a woman would come before work.” He laughs, and I know if he could use his arms, he would slaphis leg. “So. Tell me about her.”
My eyes lift to the ceiling, and I take a deep breath. “She’s hot as fuck, sassy as all get-out, sharp as a tack, and when she walked away from me when I told her we needed to take a step back, the fucking weight on my chest made me think I’d never breath normal again.”
He stares at me until I look at him. “You fucking love her.”
I’ve never loved a woman before, my mom doesn’t count, so I don’t know how to label it. “I don’t know, man.”
His shit-eating grin is back. “How long did you wait after she walked away before you went to get her?”
Tilting my head, I smile at him. “The next day.”
I had to, my gut was telling me that if I didn’t, I would lose her for good. She let me know she isn’t going to fuck around with someone who won’t give her what she deserves. The thought of someone else stepping in felt like a fucking anvil on my chest.
“Ha! You love her.” He’s laughing like an idiot.
Standing up, I laugh as I walk to the door. “I got shit to do, man.”
“Alright, see ya later, lover boy!”
He’s still laughing when the door shuts behind me.
When I get to the office, I go right to Sanders’ desk. He’s typing on his laptop and isn’t paying attention to me walking across the room to him. Coming to a stop next to his desk, his body infinitesimally tenses before he grabs his stress ball, which looks like a globe, from the top of his desk and sits back in his chair. The hinges squeak as he does.
He’s squeezing the fucking ball, passing it from hand to hand as he gives me his usual annoying smile. “What’s up, boss?”
“I need to talk to you.” I tip my head toward the small conference room and walk that way, expecting him to followme.
He shuts the door behind him and leans against the wall by the window that overlooks the fishbowl of desks and computers. His body language is guarded, but the shit-eating grin is still there as he tosses the stress ball between his hands. For the first time, I wonder if everything about him is an act.
The deception, and that I’ve missed it all this time, has my molars clenching.
Sliding my hands in my pockets, I square my shoulders, careful to keep my face neutral. “Why were you at my witness’s house Saturday?”
He shrugs his shoulders and rolls his eyes like it’s the most normal thing in the world to fucking go to a witness’s house and lie about who sent him. “I didn’t know it was a crime to check in onourwitness.”
I watch every twitch, every move he makes. I’m trying to keep the questions casual, I can’t let on that I want to snap his fucking head off just for looking in her direction.
“How did you know she was at her house? I hadn’t reported that yet.”
The muscle next to his eye twitches, it’s small, but I saw it.
“It’s in the notes, someone reported it. Probably Swan. Was it supposed to be a secret from the team?”
Ignoring the jab, I ask my next question. “You told her I sent you to check on her.”
He shakes his head slowly as he acts like he’s thinking while he squeezes the ball and moves it back and forth between his hands. “No, that’s not what I said. I told her I was checking on behalf of the team and asked her if there was anything she needed to come in to report.”
“You drove all the way out to Claremore in the off chance that shemighthave something to report?”
He stops squeezing his ball and holds it mid-pass in front of him, the smile falling from his face. “If I didn’t know any different, boss, I would say these questions are more personal than professional.”
Our dust-up at the jail last week is at the forefront of my mind, I know that he still has that card to play against me, there were plenty of witnesses to back him up. I’m pretty sure his comment is to remind me.
Agent Sanders has never been one of my favorite people, but in light of everything, I’m finding it hard to keep my facade of professionalism around him.
