Page 45 of Warrant

“Hope I passed the test,” I said, standing as he did.

“You did,” he replied with a smile. “Something tells me we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other, Sheriff.” With that, he left my office.

I had no clue what that was all about, but soon enough the paperwork on my desk sucked me back in. I completed the monotonous task and tried to forget all about bikers. As gorgeous as Cypher had been, it was a different man who kept interrupting my thoughts.

Sighing, I shoved the stack of folders a few inches toward the edge of my desk and glared at it. I couldn’t focus. My phone rang.

“Thank God.” I picked up the receiver. “Sheriff Zimmerman.”

“You have the sexiest voice.”

Rolling my eyes as I recognized the speaker as Warrant, I sighed. “What do you want?” I frowned. “And why didn’t you call my cell?” He had the number. I’d given it to him before we’d gone on the date together.

“Wanted to do this in a way that is less…traceable,” he said.

“That sounds like you’re up to no good, Warrant.” I bit back a smile.

“I need a favor.”

“What kind of favor?” I asked, wary.

“One that I need you not to question or look further into.” There was a pause. “Can you do that?”

“What kind of favor?” I insisted.

“Can you run a vehicle plate for me?”

I hesitated, thinking it over. “You in trouble?”

“Not me, but some friends,” he replied.

At least he was being honest. As far as I could tell. “This going to blow back on me?”

“Shouldn’t,” he said, “as long as you don’t look into it further. Look, Ains, I could have my guys get this information, but it would be faster and easier if it was coming from you.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask Owen,” I told him.

“I don’t want to get him into trouble. You’re not going to put yourself in the doghouse.”

“Going straight to the top,” I said with a grim smile.

“We’re just trying to help someone. Promise,” he said.

I eyed the door where Cypher had walked out not twenty minutes ago and wondered if he’d been sussing me out to see if I’d help with this. “This is the kind of stuff that makes it to where we can’t have a relationship, Warrant,” I told him.

He was silent on the other line so long, I almost thought he’d hung up. “We’ll deal with that later.”

“There’s nothing to deal with, I-”

“Ains, this is time sensitive. And important. Really important.”

I shut my mouth and tapped my fist on my forehead. “Yeah,” I finally said. “Okay. Give me the damn plate number.”

Grabbing a pen, I wrote down what he said. “Texas-” I frowned. “Wait, this is a Texas vehicle?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Why are you searching for a-”