Page 117 of It Runs in the Family

He didn’t respond. We both knew it was true. The police held all the power and what I’d done had been a gamble.

“The question is what prompted him to come find you,” he said. “Who else knew you were close to Selena? Tommy T? Maybe he sent someone to you before you showed up at Bueller’s. He might have known you worked at the convenience store.”

“True, only the blond guy didn’t know Selena’s name. He was trying to find her, not get something from me. At least not at that point.”

His mouth pressed into a tight line. “I don’t like this.”

That didn’t give me warm fuzzies.

His phone rang. He glanced at the screen and answered. “Whatcha got?” He stiffened. “You sure?” A few seconds later, he said, “Okay. Thanks.” Then he hung up.

“What?” I asked, my heart beginning to race. “Did you find out who the woman is?”

“No.” He shifted in his seat, turning to face me, a serious expression on his face. “Iris, he couldn’t find the report.”

It took me a couple of seconds to process what he’d said. “My kidnapping report? What does that mean?”

He took a breath and picked up my hand, cradling it in his. “It means it never got entered into the system.”

“How can that be?” I asked in confusion. “Is it too early on a Monday morning? Has it not been entered yet?”

“No, Iris,” he said gently. “It would be there by now. It means the deputy who took your report kept it out of the system.”

“Why?” I asked, refusing to believe this. Nate was one of Garrett’s best friends.

“You’re a smart woman,” he said quietly. “You know why.”

I did, and I suspected it had put me one step closer to the bullet hole in my head.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I was frozen in shock. When I’d seen the vision of my death, I’d believed it wouldn’t happen. That I could change things. But now…

Did I tell Boone? I’d told people before, and they went through predictable stages—disbelief, mocking, reluctant acceptance, then full-on using me. But it usually took days or weeks for that progression to happen, though, and I doubted I had days, let alone weeks. And besides, my visions had always been of something in the near future. Days or maybe a couple of weeks away.

If I told Boone, I suspected he wouldn’t let me help him, not because it was against regulations or it wasn’t safe. No. He’d drop me because he’d think I was batshit crazy.

Still, even if I didn’t tell him, I wanted to have a vision, something I was struggling with. I’d forced one of the blond guys, but he was clearly the enemy. It hadn’t felt too wrong to violate his privacy. Boone was different. It felt wrong to do this without his permission. But it felt even more wrong not to try.

“Iris, breathe,” Boone said, cupping my face while he leaned close, looking into my eyes. “You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

I nodded absently. Weirdly, I believed I was safe with him. He’d shown he was protective—yet another cop quality—and I knew he’d do everything in his power to make sure nothing happened to me.

But would it be enough?

“Do you think they want me dead?” I asked, my voice shaking.

He didn’t answer for several seconds. “I don’t think that’s their primary goal. But I doubt they’d think twice about killing you after they get what they want.”

“Selena’s flash drive?”

He attempted a half smile. “Tommy T’s.”

“Yeah,” I said, my heart still racing. “That.” I reached behind me and grabbed the jacket, then stuffed my hand into the pocket and pulled out the drive. I held it out to him. “Wouldn’t it be funny if this just has a bunch of Granny’s recipes on it?” I joked, but it fell flat.

“Do you think that’s possible?” he asked.

I shook my head and forced a smile. “Selena doesn’t cook.”