Hot Pursuit

Chapter 2

2

Will dumped Merry's trash in the bin inside the reception area. The office assistant, Cindy, gave him a curious side-eye look, but he fended off her curiosity with his famous blank stare. The one that came easily with everyone except Merry.

Then he went to the men's room to wash his hands, mentally grumbling the entire time. Control freak, my ass. Every time he tried to do something nice for Merry Warren, she pushed him away as if he'd threatened to off her pet gerbil or something. What was wrong with that girl?

And why did he react to her, every single time? No matter how hard he worked to hold on to his cool, one look from her sparkling brown eyes and he lost his bearings. Was there any other explanation for why he'd offered up an interview with his brothers? Or why he'd collected her damn trash?

Without even trying, she made him do things he didn't do for anyone else. It had to stop. It was freaking embarrassing. And it could cause all kinds of trouble if he wasn't careful.

He poked his head into his boss's office. Sheriff Perez was pretty new on the job, having been elected only a year ago. His brothers had urged him to run for the position, but he'd rather eat dirt than have to deal with networking and politicking and schmoozing.

"That went pretty well," he told the sheriff. "Merry agreed to give you a little time. But knowing her, she'll be back at it before too long. She's persistent."

Perez looked up from his computer. He was a handsome guy who wanted to run for higher office someday. He lived on coffee and wintergreen Altoids, which he claimed to be addicted to. "Hard to believe the press picked up on this. This ain't exactly New York Times territory out here."

Will didn't like the condescending tone in Perez's voice. Just because he wanted to move up didn't mean he should look down on Jupiter Point. "Merry Warren's sharp. Good reporter."

"Well, she'll be your problem soon. I'll be on a beach with my lady, sleeping off the champagne toasts and getting ready for round eighty-nine."

"Yes, sir." He rapped on the doorjamb and turned to go.

"How's the kid doing?" Perez asked, almost as an afterthought.

Will's heart swelled with pride, as it always did whenever he thought about Aiden. "Doing great. Loves his classes, hit it off with his roommate. Couldn't be better."

"Bueno, bueno. He needs anything, you let me know. My cousin went to Evergreen."

And that was exactly why Perez was so successful. Good memory for personal details and quick to extend a generous hand.

"Thanks, that's a nice thought."

"And how about you? The nest is empty, yeah? Time to take advantage. Spread those wings."

"Right. I'll do that." Will rapidly backed up before Perez roped him into a setup or a blind date or Lord knew what.

"My fiancée knows someone she wants you to meet. Hair stylist at her salon. Says she's a doll and perfect for you."

"Really, Sheriff, I can handle—"

"Oh, is it set-up-Will-Knight time?" Cindy appeared at his elbow. "I've been waiting for this moment. I have a long list I've been compiling. Do you know how many women come in here who ask if you're single? I kept their names for you in a file."

"That's incredibly well-organized of you, but I'm not—"

"I divided the list into witnesses, suspects, victims, and people unrelated to any criminal investigations. I thought it would be good to give you options." Cindy was twenty-two, Vietnamese, and all attitude. As efficient as she was snarky, she wore cat-eye horn-rimmed glasses with rhinestones and funky vintage dresses.

"I can handle my own personal business, thank you both very much." He fled down the hallway, pursued by Cindy's voice.

"By the way, Merry Warren is on the list too," she called after him.

He spun around. "Excuse me?"

"I put her there myself, in the category of conflict of interest. So you don't forget." She gave him a saucy finger-wag and whisked herself into Perez's office.

Will swung around the corner to the open-plan area where each deputy had a desk. He nodded to the only other deputy at his desk, Keith Jernigan. Jernigan was the main guy coordinating the opioids investigation, while Will had pulled campground arson duty. They were working the case from two opposite ends, but everyone was starting to suspect a connection.

The working theory held that fentanyl was being smuggled from China in small shipping containers, then transferred to motorhomes for distribution. In case of problems, the motorhomes were torched to destroy the evidence. It had seemed crazy at first—Jupiter Point didn't have a deep harbor and was used strictly by fishing boats and pleasure crafts. But the fentanyl was so powerful, even a small amount could generate a huge profit. A small-scale operation like this might fly under the radar.

The idea of synthetic, highly addictive drugs filtering into the Jupiter Point area made Will furious. Jupiter Point was a small town, but it had a lot of beauty and community spirit. He refused to see it destroyed by drugs.

He settled in at his desk and propped his legs on the surface. The coffee he'd poured for himself earlier was still sitting next to his computer. He stuck his finger in it, not surprised to find it ice cold. He rarely got to drink his coffee hot. Something always interrupted him.

Before he forgot his promise to Merry, he dialed Tobias's cell phone.

"Hey bro. Got a sec? I hooked you up with some free publicity," he said when Tobias answered.

"We don't need any." His brother had a voice as deep as a river running through a canyon. "We could hold a bake sale with all the stuff people keep bringing over. Is that some kind of welcome wagon thing?"

Will didn't dare tell him it was more of a matchmaking thing than a welcome wagon. "Sure. You have a problem with free pastries?"

"At this rate, I won't be able to get a plane off the ground," Tobias grumbled.

Will grinned. God, it was good to have his brothers back. Too bad Aiden was now in college, so they'd all only be together during holidays and the summer. But Will wasn't complaining. It just felt too damn good to have Tobias and Ben at the other end of his phone instead of in various hot zones around the world.

"Just take down this number and call her. It's Merry Warren, she works at the Mercury News- Gazette and I owe her a favor."

"Is she going to bring us cupcakes like the others?"

Will snorted at the very thought. If Merry brought cupcakes, they would probably come from Ralph’s supermarket and be laced with truth-telling serum. "Don't count on that. But you can definitely expect some attitude."

"I like attitude. Is she hot?"

"She's hands off. This is a professional thing. Do I need to call this off, asshole?"

"Touchy. Jesus. Warning received. I'll give her a call. All professional-like. Maybe I'll put on a tie first. Catch you later, big brother."

Will hung up and swung around to his computer. He pulled up the list of witnesses from the campground fires. He needed to re-interview them based on the new working theory of the case. But before he did that…

After a quick glance at Jernigan to make sure he wasn't watching, Will clicked on the Flirt icon on his phone. He shouldn't do this at work. If anyone—especially Cindy—caught him, he'd never hear the end of it.

But he couldn't help it. One message from AnonyMs could make his whole day go better.

His pulse jumped at the sight of the red notification symbol. The Flirt app slogan was, "If you're looking for love, look somewhere else." The whole point was that it wasn't a dating site. It was designed to connect users with someone of like mind, someone to chat with, to share jokes with, someone who expected nothing emotional, physical, s****l or even social. Perfect for someone like him, who didn't want any entanglements.

He opened the message. AnonyMs had sent it this morning around six.

Crazy dream last night! It was like a disaster movie. I was running from a giant tsunami wave and people were running all around me screaming and cars were flying through the air. Then I reached up and grabbed the tire of one of the cars and it turned out YOU were driving it! I knew it was you even though I couldn't see your face, and I don't even know what your face looks like IRL. But I just knew. You shouted at me to hang on and then you drove through the air until we reached a little meadow filled with yellow wildflowers. You hovered over the meadow so I could drop down into the grass. I yelled, "Come for a hike with me!" But the car turned into a spaceship and zoomed away. Isn't that a wild dream? Interpretation, please! I have mine.

She ended with a wink emoji.

He read the message again, paying attention to every detail. AnonyMs always had vivid dreams with lots of detail. As a kid, she'd gotten into the habit of writing them down, and said someday she wanted to write a book that wove them all together. In his imagination, she was a shy, dreamy, artistic girl. The type of girl he never met in person because he mostly dealt with criminals or the victims of criminals.

He thought for a while, then typed out his answer. Easy. Your curiosity about me is like a tidal wave. He threw in an emoji with its tongue sticking out. You're afraid you'll never know who I really am. Either that, or you recently watched Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Don't know the significance of the yellow wildflowers, since your favorite color is orange. And hiking? Why? You hate to hike.

He pressed the "send" button. Amazing that he knew those details about her, but he didn't know her name or anything else. All he knew was that she lived somewhere in central California and she was under forty.

And that he really looked forward to those messages from her.

He heard rapid footsteps behind him. Lightning fast, he closed out the app and shifted his focus to his computer screen.

Cindy appeared with the morning's mail, which she set on his desk. "I hope I didn't interrupt something. You had a funny expression on your face. A…what's that word…doting expression."

"Doting?" He snorted. "I wasn't doting. I was researching. Crime-solving. That's what I do. I'm a crime-solver."

"And so you are," she said in a kindergarten-teacher voice. "You're so good at it, too. Would you like a powdered donut with your coffee?"

He narrowed his eyes at her as he picked up his phone. "Why do all the women around here have so much attitude?"

She kicked up one heel and flung her arms wide—an exaggerated show-off pose. "Because you can take it, that's why."

He grunted and dialed the first number on the list. "Get out of here. I need to get some work done."

"Right. Work." She gave him a wink then turned to go. "Tell your 'work' you have real work to do." And she skipped off before he could lecture her on appropriate sheriff's department behavior.

He shook his head, feeling like a grandpa having a "get off my lawn" moment. God, he was in a rut. He was only thirty-two, and he was turning into a fossil. Duty, responsibility, work—he barely recognized himself anymore. Where was the wild and reckless Will Knight he used to be? He never let loose anymore. The most fun he had was with an anonymous woman on a goddamn app.

Correction: he had fun with Merry Warren, too. But that didn't count. She didn't like him, despite the chemistry that lit him up when he was around her. She'd been especially distant since that time he'd rescued her. It was like they'd made a pact to never mention that night. So he hadn't, even though every moment was engraved into his memory in neon.

They just didn't get along, and never would. Merry was too independent to appreciate a rescue. Especially from a Knight.