Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 91438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
I nodded. “I wouldn’t have left with you last night had I minded.”
He grinned, and I was struck again by his handsomeness.
“Hop on, sweet cheeks,” he ordered.
I winked at him, but it was lost on him since he’d turned around and started up his bike without watching me get on.
Which was probably good, because then he didn’t see the way it hurt that he’d just dismissed me.
We made it out of his little lakeside retreat without seeing my mother, or anyone else for that matter.
Hell, we didn’t see a single soul until we were nearly fifteen minutes into our drive.
I hadn’t noticed how far out he lived yesterday on the ride to his home, but now that it was light out and I could see just where I was going, I was surprised.
He lived nearly fifty minutes away from my place, once it was all said and done.
And when we pulled up in front of my house, I had roughly forty-five minutes until I had to be at work.
Slipping my leg off the bike, I stood up and turned to him, holding out the helmet.
He shook his head.
“Keep it,” he said, eyes on mine. “You’ll need it later.”
I blinked.
“Why will I need it later?” I asked.
He smiled, giving me those beautiful white teeth again.
“Because I plan on taking you for a ride again,” he grinned.
My face blushed fifty shades of red.
Especially when he started to caress his bike in a loving manner.
“And I still have your ass print right here on my tank,” he continued. “There’s no way I won’t want more of what I had last night.”
My brows rose.
“Who said I was doing more than a night?” I asked, turning on my heels and going straight around the back of the house.
The garage apartment was detached from the rest of the house, thank God.
Because if I’d have had to go into the main house, I was sure I’d be asked why, exactly, I was panting, as well as the reason my face was so flushed.
And there’d be no way in hell I would tell them, seeing as my brother now reported my entire life to my mom.
Which reminded me.
Pulling out my phone from my pocket, I tossed a small wave over my shoulder at Silas as I rounded the corner.
It was time for my brother to hear exactly why his snooping pissed me off.
Chapter 9
Back in my day, a ‘behavior disorder’ was called being an asshole.
-Silas’ thoughts on life
Silas
Four hours later found me heading straight for my office once I arrived at the clubhouse.
Lynn had called twenty minutes before and told me that I had the information I was looking for in my email, and I found that I really wanted to get to the bottom of this case.
Something about her case was bothering me…niggling away at me until I was on the verge of worried.
Sawyer hadn’t lied when she said she wasn’t drunk.
And I knew when people were lying. I had to know when people were lying to stay alive like I did.
I walked through my office and went straight to my computer.
Signing into my secure email, I clicked on the first email from Lynn and clicked open.
The subject line said Sawyer Berry.
The first two paragraphs were the particulars of the case.
Who was involved, details about the location, vehicle types, and the names of the occupants in both vehicles.
Alcohol level: .01.
My mouth dropped open.
What. The. Fuck.
I picked up my phone and called Lynn to make sure I wasn’t seeing things.
“Hello?” Lynn answered three rings in.
“I need you to double check the numbers you sent over to me,” I said without preface.
He snorted. “Knew you were going to ask that; I already had it pulled at BPD, too.”
“And?” I asked impatiently.
“Same thing. .01. That’s it,” he answered immediately.
My jaw clenched.
“I need you to contact the lawyer and the judge. Pull me the…”
“…Already did it. Those files should be on your desk by the end of the day,” he interrupted me.
“Thanks. Have you got anything else on Shovel?” I asked him before I hung up.
“Negative.”
Shit.
“Thanks, keep me updated,” I said.
“Will do,” he agreed, and hung up.
I stared at the file some more, becoming more and more confused.
The police report clearly indicated the fact that the Ford Bronco pulled out in front of the Chevy Truck. It also clearly stated that none of the occupants of the Bronco were wearing seatbelts, which was a contributing factor to their being ejected from the vehicle.
It further stated that the two other occupants of the Chevy were drunk.
So drunk that they were nearly twice the legal limit.
“But she wasn’t drunk. What the fuck happened here?” I wondered aloud.
Knowing I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I found out more about this, I picked up my phone and keys from the desk and started to walk right back out the door without accomplishing any of my paperwork.
I guess that was one of the benefits of being the boss, though, getting to do whatever the fuck you wanted to do, when you wanted to do it.
I arrived at BPD less than five minutes after leaving my office, and I walked straight into the building, not even bothering to say hi to Loki or Trance as I went in.
The two of them were busy, though, and didn’t even notice when I passed by.
I walked straight into the Chief’s office and shut the door without asking.
“Silas,” Burke said, looking up at me with no surprise in his eyes.
Burke and I went way back.
I dropped a file on his desk, and he hesitated only briefly before he flipped it open with two fingers.
Leaning forward and grabbing his glasses off the desk, he pushed them on and started reading.
The more he read, the more stiff his body became until he fairly resembled a statue.
“You see it,” I surmised.
He nodded.
“Who was in charge of this case?” I asked.
He looked up, and his usually gray eyes were filled with menace.
“Harold Dunbar.”
My brows creased. “He’s been dead for eight years.”
He nodded.
“Yeah.”
Then a little niggle of worry started to slither down my spine.