Page 31 of (My Accidental) Killer Summer (Summers in Seaside)

thirty

. . .

Noah

FIVE MINUTES EARLIER

Elle’s lips are still on mine when the phone in my back pocket vibrates at the same time hers rings. For a second, I think about ignoring it. For once in my life, I want to let the world burn and just keep kissing her.

“Ignore it,” she groans into my mouth.

Fuck that’s hot.

“Not mine, baby. I think it’s yours.” I smile.

“Still ignore it,” she mumbles peppering kisses around my mouth.

But habit dies hard, and cop instinct is stronger than lust, even if barely.

“Could be the kids,” I say, taking a step back. Happy to let the blame lie with her just this once instead of me.

She blinks up at me, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, utterly fuck-able and hands down the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. She drops her legs to the floor, stomps over to her phone and grabs it with a huff. I follow and shamelessly look over her shoulder.

AMY: WHY AREN’T YOU ANSWERING ME? ARE YOU DEAD TOO?

AMY: Your kids are fine, btw.

“Who’s dead?” I ask.

“No one!” She slams her phone face down on the counter. God, she’s so fucking cute when she thinks she’s being stealthy. I can’t help but fuck with her.

“Aren’t you going to answer her?”

“Yes.” She rolls her eyes and leaves the room.

My phone buzzes again. Persistent. Urgent.

I tuck myself back in my jeans. “Give me a second.” Then step out onto the porch before I can change my mind. The cool night air slaps me sex sober.

It’s Frank from Records, his voice low like he already knows this call is trouble. “Grant, you sitting down?”

“Should I be?”

“There’s a photo making the rounds on the local tip line. Neighborhood security cam. Guess who’s in it?”

My stomach drops. “Just tell me.”

“Your ex. Elle. Grainy as hell, but it looks like she’s holding something—hell, I don’t know—a garden gnome? And swinging it at… well, something.”

I close my eyes. I have a feeling I already know what she’s swinging at. “Send it.”

Seconds later, the picture pings through. Blurry. Pixelated. But it’s her. My gut clenches.

“Already got flagged by two different analysts,” Frank says. “Once the higher-res file gets pulled from the server, she’s toast. You want me to kick it upstairs?”

“No.” My voice comes out sharper than intended. I force a breath. “No, I’ll handle it. Don’t mention it to anyone else. Not yet.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Anyway way you can…” I leave my request unsaid, at least officially.

But we both know what I’m asking. Frank’s an old-timer just like me.

It used to be easier to push investigations in a certain direction.

Not in a nefarious way, obviously. But times when the system wasn’t your friend and a bad guy just needed to go down.

This is not one of those times, but the result will still be the same.

Then Frank mutters, “You’re out of your damn mind,” before hanging up.

I stand there in the dark, staring at the image until the porch light flickers. My hands tighten around the phone.

Elle’s in deeper than I thought. And now I’m in it with her.