Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 121728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
“Or you could simply be a psycho.”
He raised his eyebrows and stared directly into the peephole. “If you don’t want my help, then,” he shrugged, “I’m done wasting my breath. Have a great life, Sloane. Good luck with your sister.” You’re going to need it, he added silently.
Turning to leave, he heard the flip of the deadbolt, but continued toward the stairs. He only slowed his steps when the sound of the chain sliding in its track came next. Then he completely stopped three rooms away as the door swung open.
He glanced over his shoulder to see she had popped her head outside. “You’re really a cop?”
Her raised voice made him wince and he quickly checked to make sure no one was outside listening.
Nope. He was the only fool standing out in the cold.
He turned but remained near the top of the stairs. “I don’t want to discuss it out here. If you don’t want to let me in, is there somewhere close by where we can talk in private?”
Her head disappeared and the door opened wider. He took that as an invitation and headed back to her room. Stepping inside, he couldn’t say he was shocked that the interior was no better than the exterior.
She closed and locked the door behind him. And when she watched him scan the room, he did his best to keep any reactions from his face.
He wasn’t sure he’d succeeded since the only positive about the room was it being in better shape than the Demons’ farmhouse.
Period.
His initial observation had been correct. The motel was a dump inside and out, plus very outdated. His guess had also been correct about it being an efficiency. Sort of. That was, if having a mini-fridge stuffed under a short counter with a tiny microwave on top was considered an efficiency.
The room also had two double beds and a TV dating back to the ‘90s. He was surprised it didn’t have rabbit ears with aluminum foil wrapped around them. The mismatched decor included a two-seater table with a single chair sitting in front of the large picture window. The curtains were pulled closed for privacy. A stack of folders sat on the table next to an open laptop.
He might have interrupted whatever she was working on. Just what that was, he had no idea.
When he poked around online, he discovered she worked for a large law firm. So, her working from her motel room made no sense. But then, living in this town made no sense, either, after living in a more affluent area like Regent Square.
When he’d pulled up her employer’s website, he found that the law offices of Astor & Associates had locations in Pittsburgh, Harrisburg, Philadelphia and State College. None of which was where this motel was located. He guessed this flea-bag motel was more affordable due to being located in a low-traffic, non-touristy area.
“Do you mind if I sit?”
Her eyes flicked to the bed, then back to him. After a long pause, she finally flipped her hand toward the spare bed covered in open boxes and suitcases full of clothes. Numerous plastic storage bins could also be seen tucked underneath both bed frames.
He shifted a cardboard box marked “sweaters” over enough to make room for him to settle his ass.
“Are you going to sit?” he asked when she remained leaning back against the door, keeping one hand on the knob.
Apparently ready to bolt the second he became a threat.
“I’m fine where I am.”
He didn’t blame her for being overcautious. He was a stranger wearing an outlaw MC’s cut when she met him.
He figured if he started at the beginning and explained who he was and why he wore those colors, she might relax a bit.
“Before I start, I need you to understand what I’m about to reveal goes no further than this room.”
“Because you’re working undercover,” she concluded.
His eyebrows rose at her correct deduction. “Yes. If my cover’s blown, it could fuck up a lot of things. It might even screw up my career. It could also put our other undercover officers in jeopardy and ultimately, it could derail our investigation.”
“Which consists of what? Violent gangs?”
“Violence is not the reason we’re investigating the Demons.”
“Then what is?”
“I can’t go into too many details, but I’ll share this so you understand one reason I’m willing to help you. The MC is a part of a major meth trafficking operation.”
Her face paled when she put two and two together. “And that’s my sister’s drug of choice.”
“Our goal is to shut down their operation but there are a lot of moving pieces.”
“And you’re one of those pieces.”
“Yes,” he answered.
“You tried to help me Saturday night and you only did so because you’re a cop, right?”
“Yes, even though I probably shouldn’t have.”
After pushing off the door, Sloane moved closer and leaned back against the long dresser across from where he sat. “So, you risked your cover to help me. Why?”