Page 113 of Protecting Love

“Yeah.”

“Do you have cameras here?”

Brad snorted. “Does it look like we can afford cameras here?”

The small, rented space had chipped paint on the walls, and an old steel desk that Brad was sitting behind, shelving in the back holding orders to be picked up.

“Do you remember anything about her?” he asked.

“Short woman. Old.”

“How old?”

“Forties, maybe.”

Jesus. That wasn’t old.

“How about what she looked like? Hair color, length, glasses, no glasses.”

Brad frowned. “She was pretty forgettable. That’s what I remember.”

“Aside from being old?”

“Yeah. Like, I don’t know. She reminded me of my aunt.”

“How’s that?”

“Oh,” Brad said. “I get it. Yeah, her hair was like my aunt’s. Brown and like right here.”

Brad was slicing his hands across his collarbone. “So shoulder length. Sharp? Blunt? Straight and precise?”

“That’s it,” Brad said, pointing. “Straight and sharp, right past her chin. I don’t remember anything else. Just that my aunt had that style. She’s old too.”

He rolled his eyes. “If I can come up with a picture would you be able to verify who it is?”

“I guess. Maybe.”

“Are you working tomorrow if I come back?”

“Got nowhere else to be,” Brad said, then dropped his head back to his phone.

Fletcher supposed he should be thankful that both employees didn’t give two shits about their jobs and handed over the information so freely.

He wanted to go back to Paris’s, but it was best to go home.

He could call and update her rather than be tempted to stay longer and comfort her.

She had her sister.

He had to get home to his son.

“Hey,” Ian said thirty minutes later. “I was just going to the gym. I can wait if you want to join me.”

He’d love nothing more. “Sorry, but I’ve got a few things to do. I went this morning.”

“Before work?” Ian asked, his face almost shockingly painful.

“Not everyone waits to get up thirty minutes before they have to leave.”