Cherise Sinclair - Edge of the Enforcer

What kind of a man could be so nice to her all night and zip straight into disliking her? That was just…wrong. Made her feel as if every certainty was gone.

When he’d said, “ I don’t like you ,” she’d almost started to cry.

Behind her, in reception, the phone rang, and Mrs. Martinez answered.

Lindsey wanted to help, but she’d been told to enjoy a break before the admin left.

The break room was tiny, with a small table, fridge, sink, and microwave. The new coffeemaker obviously got the most use. Lindsey put a clean cup under the spout and inserted a hazelnut-flavored pod. As she waited, she called her sister.

“Hey, it’s Lindsey.”

“Sissie!” Amanda’s high voice was delighted. “Changed phones again?”

“You betcha.” The better to make sure her number never got in the wrong hands.

Her little sister gave an unhappy sigh. “I wish—”

“Me too.” She forced cheerfulness into her voice.

“Well, I’m glad you called. I wanted to talk to you.”

Worry tightened Lindsey’s throat. “What’s wrong? Have you been to the doctor?”

“Criminy, relax!” Her baby sister heaved an exasperated groan. “I’m fine. The last scan showed I’m clear. It’s all good, Linnie.”

“Oh.” Lindsey’s shoulders slumped with relief. The cancer hadn’t come back. “Okay. Sorry.”

“You worry more than Mama and Melissa combined.”

“I know.” Hearing Amanda’s giggle, Lindsey felt her spirit soar. Just listen to her. Alive. Laughing. So different from three years ago, when she’d been diagnosed with cancer and was well on her way to dying. She’d been losing weight, her face drawn tight with pain. Now she sounded as she had before—Mandy had laughed all through childhood. “So what’s up?”

“Texas A&M accepted me. I’m going to be an Aggie!”

“Really? When did you get old enough to go to college?”

“Linnie!” The reprimanding tone made Lindsey chuckle and tear up at the same time.

“S-sorry.” She cleared her throat. It had been worth it. Sure, if Victor hadn’t offered to pay for Amanda’s treatment, Lindsey wouldn’t have rushed into marrying him. Maybe she’d have had a chance to learn what an evil person he was or even why he’d been so eager to get married.

She curled her lip. At a guess, he’d needed only one smuggling trip to reimburse him for everything spent on Mandy’s treatment. Yet the past didn’t matter. Her sister was alive, laughing, and planning her future. That was what counted. “Congratulations, Mandy. Seriously. That’s awesome.”

“I know, right? I can’t believe I actually caught up on all those classes I missed. And Mom’s giving me a birthday party next week.” A pause and smaller voice. “I wish you could come.”

The thought of setting foot in Parnell’s jurisdiction, of what might happen to her … Lindsey’s stomach twisted painfully. Relax. She was far, far from Texas. “Sorry, sissie.” Would she ever be able to go home? “Are y’all doing okay?”

“The cops swing by every couple of weeks to see if you’re hiding under the couch or something.” She snickered.

“You’re not telling them anything, right?”

“Nah, we only say we don’t know where you are. I’m glad you don’t tell us, so I don’t feel like a liar.” She hesitated. “Chief Parnell is…kinda scary, though.”

Lindsey stiffened, remembering the twisted hatred in the police chief’s eyes. I shot his brother. And Parnell liked to kill. Thank goodness Mandy would soon be leaving town. “You never see him alone, you understand me? Never.”

“I’m not stupid. If Mama’s not home, I go out the back door and over the fence.” Mandy giggled. “But it’s fun when she’s there. She knows she can’t lie worth a darn, so she just goes into a crying fit whenever the chief mentions your name. And he gets all disgusted and leaves.”

Even as guilt settled in Lindsey’s stomach, she grinned. She could see her mama doing excellent hysterics. With proper Southern gentility, of course.

“Melissa came over for supper last night. She’s getting the day off to come to my party!”

“Good.”

“And she says she’s still keeping the cattle and the hands away from your property.”

“Even better.” Thank God for Melissa. The two of them had always taken care of Mama and Mandy. Like when Amanda got sick, Lindsey had obtained the money for the experimental treatment, Melissa provided the support, and Mama had—Lindsey rolled her eyes—Mama had cried. They all loved their mother, despite the fact that in an emergency, she was as much use as tits on a boar. “Now tell me about what you’re going to take the first semester.”

After her sister finished with the local news, Lindsey dumped her coffee into the sink and went back to the reception room.

“I’m off to help my baby with her flower arrangements,” Mrs. Martinez said and pointed to a pile of papers on the desk. “If you have time, can you file those away?”

“You bet.”

Lindsey stood and watched the short woman hurry out of the office. After a minute, she recognized the feeling welling inside her as grief. She’d been a bride twice now. Even with Victor and having a few qualms, she’d thought there was love. She’d looked forward to children.

Surely the death of dreams should have some ceremony attached.

Feeling the thickening in her throat, she shook herself.

The wagon train of destiny has passed, girl. Barking after it won’t make it stop.

Carrying the papers, she went into the narrow filing room. Tucked behind the reception area, the room was isolated and perfect, since she couldn’t see deVries’s office.

Mood lightening, she hummed to herself, answered the phone when needed, and filed papers. As, Bs, Cs…

“You look like you know what you’re doing.” DeVries’s gravelly voice echoed in the small room.

Lindsey spun. “Jesus, you scared the spit out of me.” God, God, God. How could she have been so stupid as to turn her back on a door? Anyone might have walked in. Shot her dead.

Trying to regulate her heartbeat, she picked up the paper she’d dropped.

“Bit jumpy?” His gaze swept over her, sending a different type of anxiety into her.

“I drank too much coffee.” She assumed a pleasant smile. “Was there something you needed, Mr. deVries?”

His face darkened. “Considering all the ways I’ve tasted you, fingered you, fucked you, calling me Mister is pretty formal.”

Her spine snapped straight. “I thought formality would serve us best. After all, I don’t like you, and you don’t like me.”

“Hell,” he said under his breath before giving her a scowl. “I was out of line.”

She nodded acknowledgment of his half-assed—though unexpected—apology.

“I didn’t come in to apologize, though.” He gave her a stare as if she were a scorpion scuttling around on an outhouse floor. “You’re working under a fake ID, Miss Adair. What’s your real name?”

As her hands went cold, she took a step back. The file drawer jammed into her hip, blocking her retreat. “You researched—”

“Yeah. I did. Give me a real good explanation of why, and maybe I won’t tell Simon.”

Her fear disintegrated as rage danced along her nerve endings. How dare he snoop? Threaten her? “Go away.” Trying to block his existence from her universe, she turned and leisurely filed the paper she’d crumpled.

The air seemed to darken. What kind of man could change the very atmosphere in a room?

“I’m waiting for your explanation.”

He could wait until the stars fell from the sky. “Run and tell Daddy, little boy. What are you, five?” She took a long inhalation and told her shoulders to relax. God, I just want to go home.