Page 68

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The city lights fell behind them as they sped down Interstate 66, leaving Washington, DC and heading west. Her condo was nestled in a booming part of northern Virginia. The area’s growth was planned and smart. Very green. Very Eco-Ella. Bishop preferred more space than she had. Everything of Ella’s was tiny—small dog, small cat, little condo. She even boxed up her trash into tiny-ass pieces to fit into her already microscopic trash—landfill—can.
“Your schedule is clear this weekend, right?”
No answer.
He glanced over, and… Ella was asleep. How about that?
For as lost in thought as he was over her, she had simply fallen asleep. Hell, she’d had a big night. Draping his wrist over the steering wheel, he took it as a compliment that she could relax enough to zone out. And she had to be tired after being on point all night. Her acceptance speech had been funny, almost self-deprecating in a good-natured way, and had genuinely pushed her cause. She was definitely a true believer. Not many of them out there anymore, especially once they reached a certain level of success.
Did she even realize the success she’d achieved?
Realistically, she knew she had done well. But had it really occurred to her? He took his eyes off the road and stared at her. Ella’s heels were kicked off, and the T-shirt-turned-dress rode high on her legs. Maybe not. Maybe she was naive to it all. Simply oblivious to the force she’d created around her.
Bishop’s chest tightened. Good for her for staying grounded, but damn, she needed to be more careful. The people around her were no help.
Bishop changed lanes, looking for her exit.
Jay was a classic dickhead, whether Ella wanted to admit it or not. Bishop was going to have a long discussion with her FBI agent. Jay had “stalker” practically tattooed on his forehead. Tara cared less about Ella and more about success than any publicist he’d ever come across. Though, truthfully, he didn’t know many.
Bishop slowed as he pulled off the highway. A few turns into the trendy ex-urban neighborhood, and he decelerated onto her street. It was late, and the lack of street parking was expected. Bishop’s eyes roamed, looking for another option.
“Hey, babe. Which one is your parking garage?” There were two entrances ahead, so it was heads or tails.
Ella murmured and sleepily batted his words away with her hand.
“Cute. Not helpful, but cute.” He circled around the block and double parked in front of her building. Green slime coated the front door, the brick facade, and the sidewalk.
What the hell?More of the slime. Hadn’t they been through that before?
He pulled his phone from his hip, dialing the kid who had slimed him before. No answer. Bishop redialed, and the guy answered on the third ring.
“Hello?” He sounded sleepy and annoyed.
“Bishop O’Kane here. Did you visit Ella Leighton’s building again?”
“What?” He cleared his throat. “No, sir.”
“Who did?”
“I don’t know.” The guy was now awake and sounded as though he could be believed. “I haven’t seen other messages on the boards, either. No one private messaged me. Nothing.”
“Then who did this?”
“I don’t know!”
Bishop ended the call and called the front desk at Ella’s building, watching the doorman answer.
“Good evening—”
“Bishop O’Kane calling on behalf of Ella Leighton.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What happened outside?”
“We’re sorry, sir. Maintenance will be here in the morning to clean it up.”