9
Vigil
“Got anything for me, Devil?” I asked the second he walked into my office on Wednesday morning.
He pulled his laptop from the black leather bag over his shoulder and set it on the edge of my desk. “Nothing.”
“You’re f*****g with me.”
“Nope.” He sat in the chair across from me and booted his laptop up. “It’s like they never existed, same as I said last week.”
“Witness Protection?” I asked what I’d concluded.
“Either that or they’re running from something or someone and know a guy who hooked them up.”
Not that it truly mattered, but Michelle and Dillon lived in my neighborhood, and I didn’t exactly like not knowing who or what I might face in the future because of their secretive past.
“They’re hiding something, I know that for sure,” I muttered, my fingers taking up a stead
