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He studies me, his eyes going from cautious to curious as he takes me in. “I think that’s my line.”

In that moment, it dawns on me that my question probably came across as flirting. I avoid the shudder at the thought that this man thinks I might be interested in him.

“So, why the long face? Tough day at the office? Are you a businessman?”

"I'm no businessman."

“Oh. I was thinking you might be the owner. I’ve heard he’s really successful.”

Marshall laughs. “Looking for a sugar daddy, little lady?”

Ugh. Gross. “No. I’m just interested in the stories about people and places. I find it fascinating.”

Marshall's lips curl into a patronizing smile that makes my skin crawl. He swivels on his barstool to face me fully, ice clinking in his glass. "Pretty little thing like you shouldn't be poking around the Keans. Especially not here." He gestures at our surroundings. "This is their territory. Wouldn't want anything… unfortunate to happen."

The threat in his voice is clear, but I force myself to maintain my innocent expression. "Territory? That’s an odd way of putting it. It almost makes them sound like a gang, not a successful business family.” I take a delicate sip of my drink. "The way they built their empire practically overnight, it's fascinating."

"Fascinating isn't the word I'd use." Marshall's eyes narrow, though his smile remains fixed. "Pretty lady like you should be smart enough to mind their own business."

I pout in a way that makes me think I’m about to lose my feminist card, but I know it will make Marshall think I’m a dumb blonde. “Are you saying I’m not smart?”

Marshall's amused expression doesn't waver, but something cold flashes in his eyes. He leans closer, alcohol heavy on his breath. “I’m sorry if I offended you. Listen, if you’d really like to know about the Keans, I can give you the inside scoop, but not here.” He glances around. “Too many prying eyes.”

“Where?” Even as I ask, I know I shouldn’t.

“Not far. Just outside. I could use a smoke.”

He must see the hesitation in my face as he adds, “I've got some stories that would interest you."

My instincts scream that following him is a terrible idea, but this could be my chance to learn what really happened. I scan the crowd for Flynn, but he's surrounded by a group of men who appear to be fawning over him and his fighting prowess.

"Lead the way," I say, gathering my purse.

Marshall guides me through the front door, which is a relief. We’re on a main street with people and cars passing by.

“Over here.” He steps to the corner of the building that leads to the alley. Nope, I’m not going back there. Memories of my encounter with Kean’s men make my stomach roil.

But he leans against the corner of the building and lights a cigarette. "You think you're clever?"

“Do I?”

His friendly demeanor vanishes. "You think I can't spot a nosy reporter?"

Does he recognize me from somewhere? Maybe someone in the bar tipped him off. I glance around and notice that the street has gone awfully quiet.

"The Keans own this city," he hisses. "Consider this a professional courtesy, one you won't get again. Drop whatever story you’re investigating."

“They’re a successful business family. Why would that be a threat to them? Most businesses like to tout their success.”

“The Keans aren’t most businesses. Walk away now, while you still can. Next time, I won't be so nice about it."

I’m scared to death, but I refuse to back down. This man is supposed to be a good guy. "If the Keans are as dangerous as you're implying, why aren't they in jail? Isn't that your job, Superintendent Marshall, to protect people from criminals?"

At first, his eyes widen, like he’s surprised that I know who he is. But if he’s caught on to my being a reporter, then he should know that I’m aware of who he is.

He recovers quickly and gives me a cold laugh. “So naive. You think justice is black and white?"

"I think if someone's breaking the law, they should face consequences."