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Page 81

by Jennifer Rose

She’s a potential liability. Bishop would be thrilled I’m finally researching her.

This is work.

Except I’m currently banned from working.

Whatever. It’s called preparation.

Besides, I’m bored.

I settle on the couch and begin scrolling through her photos.

I see a photo of her with her sister, Violet, and the guy who was there the night she stitched me. Drew.

Callie is wearing a black dress that shows off every curve, her arms thrown around Drew and Violet.

Congrats to my sister and rake victim on their engagement. Love you both.

I snort.

Rake victim. Wonder why she calls him that?

I keep going.

She has several photos of her with a black cat named Mr. Pickles. He belongs to her friend Ivy, who’s also one of her clients.

A gray-and-white kitten named Luna. He belongs to her sister and Drew.

Several posts are tagged with Obsidian Designs, which apparently belongs to her and Violet.

I scroll farther.

A photo shows her sitting behind a laptop, an iced coffee beside her, smiling at the camera. The caption says, “Sometimes running a business requires caffeine and questionable life choices.”

That tracks.

I tap one of the circles at the top of her profile. A video starts playing.

Chaos talks to the camera, smiling as she tells a ridiculous story.

I watch the entire thing.

I keep going.

Callie posts a lot.

When I get to a picture from two years ago, I stop.

What the fuck am I doing?

I've spent less time researching targets.

I’m four years deep into her account, staring at a photo of her in a bikini on a sandy beach, when my thumb slips.

A heart appears beneath the picture.

I freeze.

What the fuck is that?