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The back door of Cooper’s opens, and Silver steps out into the alley, flanked by two identical thugs.
From my position, I can also see the front door swing open, and Raleigh Warwick stomps out into the parking lot.
I have to fight not to slam on my brakes hard enough to make the tires squeal. This is too surreal to be happening.
Silver and his goons climb into a car waiting for them. My eyes flick over the license plate, the make and model of the car- 1995 Buick LeSabre, gray- hungrily absorbing details to record. Then my eyes betray me and turn back to Raleigh.
She’s dressed in bright red sailor shorts that hug her curvy ass and bare the entire length of her tanned legs, and an off-shoulder ruffled blouse. Her long curls are back to being all black, left loose and bouncy. She strides across the parking lot, heading toward a candy red Bentley sitting in front of the bar.
She looks… fucking gorgeous.
I tear my eyes off of her. The Buick is grumbling to life and starting to roll down the alley away from me. I should be throwing on my lights and sirens and tearing after it.
Instead, I hesitate.
After three months of hunting for this man, I fucking hesitate.
Raleigh doesn’t immediately climb into her car. She’s angry, I realize. I watch as she braces a hand on the roof of the Bentley and glares back toward the bar, her full lips twisted in a grimace. My stupor at the sight of her clears just enough to ask-
Wait, what the fuck is she doing here?
Was she here to meet with Silver?
Silver, who is driving away in a gray Buick right in front of me. Without taking my eyes off of it, I fumble through my glove box for my notebook and a pen and jot down the license plate, just to be sure I don’t lose it. Because I’ve already decided I’m not chasing it down.
It would be a stupid thing to do without backup, anyway. Silver and his guys are certainly armed, and if I startle themnow, they probably won’t hesitate to start shooting. Or they could take cover in the next closest building and make hostages out of whoever’s inside. There’s a thousand ways tearing after Silver could go wrong without proper planning.
It’s a far more prudent play to get information out of Raleigh instead. I’m fairly sure that, from her skin-tight shorts and lack of handbag, she isn’t armed. She also seems to be here alone.
I tell myself I’m making this choice strategically as I park my car on the curb. It’s not about seeing her again, in real life, fifty feet away from me, after craving her for weeks. This will get me closer to Silver. Raleigh is a means to an end, just like everyone else.
Before I step out of the car, I call in the Bentley as an abandoned vehicle to be impounded.
It’s not like Raleigh’s going to be able to drive it home anytime soon, and I don’t want it to be stolen.
Then start crossing the street toward her.
I mean to call out to her with a question, something that establishes my authority in this scenario. It’s a classic strategy that I like to use on suspects. Starting a conversation with a question immediately puts your target on their back foot as they instinctively fumble for an answer, even if they’re not sure who their questioner is.
But the only word that comes out of my mouth is her name.
“Raleigh?”
CHAPTER 13
Raleigh
I hear his voice,but I can’t believe it until I look up. Over my Bentley’s hood, Derrick Lindman is crossing the parking lot toward me. He’s in a police officer’s black uniform, and seeing him in this instead of a crisp Italian suit makes the moment feel even more unreal.
It makes him look… really, really good.
Wait, no, that’s absolutely NOT important.
What I should be asking myself is what the hell he’s doing here.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Derrick demands, coming around my car. He stops too close and plants his hands on his hips, but I’m too stunned to back away.
His thick dark and gray hair is wind-whipped, his blue eyes captured pools of the sky. Has he tanned a little since I saw him last? It makes his eyes and his white teeth more striking.
