Page 27 of Win a Date with a Detective

By the time he moves, Vanessa has her hand resting against the table. The ring isn’t visible. It’s an unfortunate angle.

An unfortunate coincidence.

And considering the fact that I personally witnessed Rachel return the ring, it’s also a colossal waste of everyone’s time.

“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor,” Derek observes.

I stop pacing. “Anything?”

“Nothing yet.”

“Did you get the footage from the hallway?”

“Working on it.”

“What about the restaurant’s other cameras?”

“Bronson.”

“What?”

“Go get some coffee.”

I stare at him. He stares back. Then he laughs.

“Jesus Christ. You really like this girl.”

I don’t bother denying it. Because the truth is considerably worse.

I think I’m falling for her. Already.

That should probably worry me. But right now, all I can think about is getting her out of that fucking room.

When the door finally opens, Rachel emerges looking considerably less enthusiastic than she did when we arrived.

Her shoulders are tense. Her smile is gone. And the moment she sees me, her expression crumples.

I cross the hallway in three strides. She practically launches herself into my arms.

I wrap them around her, holding her against my chest. For several seconds, neither of us says anything.

Then she takes a shaky breath. “Well, that was significantly less fun than I anticipated.”

I laugh softly. “Yeah?”

“Apparently, actual interrogations involve a lot more questions about your whereabouts and considerably fewer dramatic confessions.”

“Funny how that works.”

She pulls back just enough to look at me.

“Am I going to jail?”

The question hits me like a punch to the gut.

Because underneath all that humor, she’s genuinely frightened. “No.”

“Are you sure?”