Page 6 of Ever After

“Because you worked for Nick, and he shared more things with you than you realize. I need to make sure this information gets out there, but I have to keep my name in the clear. I have a family to protect, and nothing will stop these guys from getting their hands on them if they know I’ve said something.” He wipes a bead of sweat from his brow, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard.

I lean forward and lower my voice to not be overheard. “Miles, what kind of trouble are you in? I can get you the lead detective’s information so you can discuss this directly with him.”

His eyes scan the faces in the shop, his body tense as his leg begins to bounce. “You’re already working with detectives? That’s not good.” He shifts in his seat and looks around at the other people in the bookstore. “I changed my mind. Can we do this somewhere more private?”

I lean forward and lower my voice, trying to help ease his discomfort. “Yes, they’ve asked me a few questions—standard questions. Nothing out of the ordinary. I’m afraid my office is closed for the next week. We can meet after that, or we can talk on the phone if it would be easier.”

“Can you meet me somewhere else tomorrow night? Say, eight?”

“I’m not comfortable doing that. I can get you in touch with the detectives. I’m sure they’d be able to help you if you have any information that can lead to the capture of the people who killed him.”

“No, it has to be you. Please. Meet me atSofia’s Tavernin Lincoln Park tomorrow. It’s a safe place. I know the guy who owns it. I know where the next pick up is going to be.”

I scrunch my face and sit back. “What do you mean, pick up?”

He looks around again, his pupils dilated and his hands shaking ever so slightly. “I can’t tell you that. You need to see it for yourself. Please, Doctor. I really need your help with this one.”

I’m about to tell him no, but the fear in his eyes does me in. I agree to this preposterous thing before I know what I’m doing. “Fine, I’ll be there.”

Grayson

I follow Finley from a distance. There’s more she’s not telling me. When she stood, guilt flashed through her features for a brief moment. Ineedanswers. This is why I’m fucking good at my job. I can read people, and I know when they aren’t telling me something. She wasn’t surprised when I told her we were looking into Nick Genova, and I’m sure she’s started looking through her notes about their sessions.

I just need that damn warrant so I can access her files!

The thought crosses my mind of stealing her computer and getting it hacked, but that’s way more trouble than it’s worth. The last thing I need is to jeopardize my job because I did something moronic. She’s been in the shop for almost an hour, which means her session is probably over. I decide to text her and check if she’d be willing to meet up for lunch.

Me:Hey, I’m going to grab a bite to eat. If you’re in the area, would you like to join me? My treat.

As I wait for her reply, I think about the Finley Grier I knew in high school. She was a geeky girl, always had her nose in a book, but she wasn’t unattractive. She was excited when it came to school. It’s like she held the key to the secrets of the universe. Even though we were in school together since our elementary years, we never really interacted—different social circles and all.

I got to know her when we were stuck together as chemistry lab partners during our senior year. If it wasn’t for her, I would have failed that class—no question. She did the majority of the labs while I goofed off, and she even put together a study guide to help me. I used it one time, and it was only because I caught her in the library at school and she made me go over it with her. I never told her how much I appreciated her helping me through that class.

She definitely grew into a looker. Her legs are lean, which tells me she either takes spin classes, runs, or does a lot of yoga. Her blonde hair has been amplified by the highlights she’s added, and she’s not wearing her glasses, which allows me to see her beautiful gray eyes. The glasses may be gone, but she still tries to hide them under a thick layer of dark lashes.

I’ve spent too many nights thinking about her in the privacy of my own house. It started off in high school and never really went away. Especially when I started following her again.Fuck, I need to get laid.

Her fashion sense has improved tremendously, as well. Gone are the days of her wearing oversized hoodies and jeans. I’ve been watching this woman for way too long now, and she gets more intriguing every day. My phone chimes with a new message from her.

Finley:That’s not a good idea.

Me:Oh, come on, I promise I’ll be nice.

I really wish that warrant was ready. I could tell her that’s why I need to see her.

Finley:No, thanks. I just finished with a patient, and I need to head home to write up my notes. Thanks though.

Damn! Thought for sure she would go for it. We were flirting a bit when we got coffee—or so I thought. I duck behind a corner as she exits the store and quickly walks to her car. She puts her things in the passenger seat and types away on her phone as she looks at passersby. I have no idea what she is looking at, but when she turns more in my direction, I see the fear on her face.

Shit.

I jog over to her car and knock on her window. She jumps in her seat and screams, then places her hand over her heart and closes her eyes, tilting her head back against the headrest.

She rolls the window down. “Are you trying to give me a damn heart attack?”

“No, but I was walking by and saw you sitting in your car. Looked like you were having a problem. You okay?”

She looks past me and smiles, but it’s forced. “Yup, just need to hurry home. I’ve got a lot to do.” She tries to roll up her window, but I stop her.