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“And you’re head over heels for him?”

“Pretty much.”

“Oh, Lake…”

Her tone raised my hackles. “What?”

“Someone killed him. What if you’re getting yourself mixed up in something dangerous?”

I rolled my eyes. “What part of the story about visiting his killer in prison was confusing? What do you think he’s going to do? Escape and come after him?”

“Don’t tempt fate.”

“Baxter just needs a bit of TLC.”

“And you’re the man to give it to him?”

“I am.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“So you’ll be nice to him?”

“I’ll try.”

That was as good as I was going to get from her. “Good. That deserves me getting dressed and taking you out for coffee?”

Her eyes lit up. “Now you’re talking.”

We were out the door in under ten minutes, Verity shouting up the stairs every minute and asking if I was ready yet having a lot to do with that. As we stepped out of the door, a prickling sensation between my shoulder blades had me scanning the street. For a moment, it had felt as if someone was watching me. Which was ridiculous.