Page 67 of Cocky Brutal Sinner

“It’s Pippa’s, obviously,” Ryan joked, rubbing his stomach and disarming everyone.

It was close, though. Too close.

Chop. Chop. Slice. Chop. Chop. Slice.

I’d like to think Brinley would be smart enough not to publish any false tip, especially now that she knows how close we are to catching her. But ever since our blowup at the hotel, she’s been weird. Distant. Not the Brinley I know.

I keep texting her, not with anything real—she’s already spooked enough that I brought up the diary situation. Just casual check-ins, giving her an opportunity to pretend that everything between us is normal.

Beau

How’d you sleep, beautiful?

Brinley

Great, how about you?

Beau

I slept okay. Had a weird dream where we went to a zoo and you were scared of the kangaroos.

Brinley

Ha!

She’s responding, but it’s not her. All her replies are clipped and surface level. She’s not even giving me sarcasm and prickly responses. It’s all just…flat. Brinley retreated behind her walls and left a polite stranger in her place. I know this version of her, and I’m terrified of it.

Chop. Chop. Slice. Ch–

I reach for the next piece of salmon, but it’s not there. I’ve finished prepping all the salmon we had on deck for tonight, leaving me distraction-free. Shit. I quickly wash my hands and put plastic wrap over the salmon trays, returning them to the fridge. Then I check my phone, hoping for some kind of response from Brinley.

Instead, I have a missed call from James. I frown. James isn’t the kind of guy to call you out of the blue. He’s more the terse, one-word text kind of guy. The one who replies to a heartfelt thank you for a gift with a thumbs up. What kind of emergency would make him call me? Shit. I press the call button immediately.

“Did something happen to Maura?” I ask as soon as he picks up. “Is she okay? Did something happen with the baby?”

“No.” James’s voice has a tint of amusement. “Nothing quite so dire. I was hoping we could meet.”

“Meet? Like, for coffee?”

“I was hoping you could come to my office at Sequel, so we won’t be disturbed by anyone.”

“Well, that doesn’t make this sound any less weird and shady.” I fiddle with the hem of my shirt. Something’s up with this whole conversation, and I don’t have a clue what it is.

“I’ll explain when you get here. Nobody is dying.”

“Can I come now?” Might as well get this over with. I’m only going to get more anxious the longer I have to wait.

“Sure. I can make space in my calendar.”

“Well, shit. If you’re moving around stuff on your precious calendar, this really must be big news. Wait, did Maura get double pregnant? I read an article once about this lady who didn’t know she had two uteruses⁠—”

“Enough,” James says coolly. It’s a veiled command to shut up and stop wasting his time, and weirdly, it’s comforting.

“Fine. I’ll be there soon.”

The Sequel offices are close enough that it’s easier to walk than drive around looking for parking. I half-jog there, moving as fast as I can without turning into a sweaty mess. I still feel like a slob, walking into Sequel’s shiny white and silver headquarters in my jeans and henley. Everyone else is in suits or elegant business casual attire. I swear, one woman in a sharp black skirt suit looks down at my scuffed boots and actually sneers.

At least the receptionist is friendly, greeting me by name and a “Mr. Keller is waiting for you.” She sends me upstairs to James’s office in a very shiny white and silver elevator.