“I got rid of my agent.” Or he’d tried to anyway.
“Okay, well, then why don’t we call the sheriff? There must be some law about taking photographs of people and posting them online without their consent.” Kenzie thought quickly. “I’ll text Quinn and tell her I’m going to be late. Then we can call the sheriff and let them know what’s going on. You’re welcome to stay at my place until this jerk gets tired and goes away.”
Harrison raised an eyebrow, clearly not impressed with her idea. “I’m not running away and hiding. Besides, I bet they have your license plate number, and if they have that, they can get your address from the DVM.”
“They can?” Kenzie didn’t like that. “Do you have a better idea?”
Harrison closed his eyes, drew in a breath. “Not at the moment. I still think punching the little fucker is my best option.”
“Right. Because jail is so much fun.”
* * *
Conrad calledthe sheriff’s department, which promised to run a patrol down his street looking for the green Subaru. The blip of a siren down the street ten minutes later told him they’d found the bastard.
He and Kenzie watched from the window as Deputy Marcs contacted the reporter, who had been sleeping in his vehicle a few houses down. Marcs spoke with him for a few minutes before running his driver’s license. The moment she turned away from the Subaru, the kid tossed something into a nearby bush.
“I wonder what that was.” Kenzie craned her neck for a better view.
“Something he really doesn’t want Marcs to find.”
But Marcs must have seen out of the corner of her eye. When she was done running his license, she slipped on a nitrile glove and retrieved it, holding up a plastic bag of something white.
“Drugs.” Conrad wasn’t surprised.
“Well, that explains a few things.”
Twenty minutes later, the son of a bitch was cuffed and sitting in the back of Marcs’ vehicle on his way to the county lock-up, his Subaru impounded.
The knot of tension Conrad had carried in his chest loosened.
Kenzie slipped into his arms. “Aren’t you glad you’re not in the cell next to his?”
Conrad kissed her. “You were right. Is that what you want me to say?”
She laughed, the sound putting a hitch in his chest. “You don’t have to say it when we both know it’s true.”
“Oh, listen to you.” He gave her ribs a little tickle. “Ms. Know-It-All.”
She squealed, twisting in his arms in a way that made him wish she didn’t have to go to work. He could spend the entire day twisting with her—in bed.
“I need to go.”
“I know.”
She picked up her little duffle bag and her handbag and took Gizmo’s leash. “I teach a class from seven to eight, but I’ll be free after that. Want to come to dinner? I have the salmon fillets I bought for last night.”
Last night.
Shit.
Until this moment, he’d tried hard not to think about the past twenty-four hours. He’d gotten shit-faced drunk in the middle of the day, puked his guts out, and worried Kenzie so much that she had stayed overnight.
Proud of yourself, asshole?
He wanted to do something for her. “How about I cook while you teach your class? When you finish, dinner will be waiting.”
Kenzie stared at him. “That’s the sexiest thing a man has ever said to me.”
