SARAH Of fucking course. Who else would show up to disturb my perfectly solemn afternoon by tailing me all the way from my office. Detective Caroline Walters shifts uncomfortably in her…my seat—it’s mine because she sure as hell wasn’t invited. Her under eyes are dark and puffy, and looks like she hasn’t slept in days. Her hair is pulled into a very tight ponytail that flows downwards, to the padded shoulders of her wrinkled cream blazer. I put my kobo down and lean backwards, stretching my back against my seat. “Are you stalking me, detective? This is starting to feel a lot like harassment, and I really do not appreciate harassed.” Her shoulders curl as she leans forward in a swift movement, desperate to eliminate the distance between us. “Listen,” her breath is shaky. “I don’t know what you know, or what it is you think you know, but you don’t have to do this. YOU SHOULDN’T DO THIS.” I blink at her. “I’m sorry, what?” She looks around urgently, warding off whatever prying eyes might be fixed on my table. “I got the email with the video.” Her voice drops, now barely above a whisper. “You think you know what you’re dealing with? Do you honestly think you know the half of it?” The half of…okay. I’ve had enough. I heave a sigh, cross my arms, and tap my right foot continuously against the white marble floor. How do I say this without being extremely rude to an officer of the law? One deep breath in, and I tell myself I’m prepared. “Alright, detective Caroline. Let’s get some things straight,” Her brows furrow, but her scowl is no match for mine as I continue. “First of all, I do not appreciate being followed. Secondly, you’re interrupting what I planned to be a peaceful solo lunch date. And lastly, what the fuck are you alking about? She searches my face. Really searches it, like whatever answer she desperately needs is hidden somewhere underneath my eyes, or beside my nose. I watch her expression shift from desperation to confusion, then amusement, before it settles on horror, sheer panic. She pulls back slightly. “You don’t know.”I don’t think it’s possible to raise my right brow any higher, but I surprise myself. “You don’t know,” she repeats, and now she’s shaking her head. “You really do not know.” She’s said the word “know” so many times, I’m starting to feel really silly for not knowing. “But if you don’t know…” There it is again. “Then that can only mean—” She makes a choking sound, her right hand swats her mouth shut. “It’s them. It’s the brothers.” Her eyes widen. “They’re the ones doing this. They’re trying to sway me from the case. They have something to hide.” It’s only now she starts to make sense. I recall the conversation I had with the brothers. They had told me they found something against her, something that was going to make sure she stayed a hundred feet away from us. Silly me hadn’t bothered with the specifics. I wouldn’t have been seated here, confused like a headless chicken, if I had. Whatever it is, she’s going to tell me anyway. She’s too freaked out not to. “It sounds like you’re being blackmailed, Detective,” my lips thin into a wry smile. “What could anyone possibly have against a decent law enforcer of your status?” “Keep your fucking mouth shut,” she hisses. I swallow the laugh that pushes up my chest. “Are you verbally harassing me, Detective?” “Look,” when she starts to speak again, her voice cracks even more as tears glisten in her eyes. “You don’t understand.” Her hands are shaking, lips quivering, she blinks over and over again trying to hide her tears. “He’s a good boy, he really is. He just fell into the wrong crowd and made some mistakes. But he’s a good boy with a good heart.” She reaches for my hands across the table. I pull them back immediately, settling them in my lap. The waitress appears at my elbow. She must have noticed my rather defensive posture. “Ma’am? Is everything alright?” “I’m fine,” I say, flashing her a bright smile. She looks warily at the detective, eyes searching for any sign of danger. When there’s none, she returns her gaze to me. “Your meal will be here in five minutes.” She says. I thank her with a smile, and she leaves. Caroline and I are alone once again. She is panicking now. “I’m not—” She stops and swallows hard. “He needs a chance. I’ve given him a second chance at life, and he will be better. I’ve made sure of it. He’ll never harm anyone again. Please.” She talks so fast, I wonder how she catches her breath between words. “Listen,” she sniffs. “I’ll close the case. I’ll skip town. Just make them destroy the evidence, all of it. I can’t rest knowing it’s out there.” The boy in question has to be a son or a brother. But I’m thinking of a son. She has the urgency and desperation of a mother written all over her face. “You should talk to whoever is blackmailing you about that,” I clear my throat. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Now if you don’t mind, I have a meal to enjoy.” She doesn’t budge. Just sits there staring at me like she’s waiting for me to crack, to show some kind of human compassion. “Alone.” The less I know, the better. The brothers should be far more capable of handling her. I won’t get in the way. I’ve learned something important over the last few months. Compassion is a luxury I can’t afford when it comes to protecting my family. So no. I don’t feel sorry for her. Caroline shifts in her seat, then stands up slowly. Her shoulders are slumped, a sign of defeat I know too well. She’s halfway to the door when I call out. “Detective.” She turns around. I meet her eyes, keep my voice steady. “I’m glad you’ve realized we’re innocent. The truth always prevails.” She stares at me for a long moment. Then her mouth twists into something that’s not quite a smile. “I’m sure it does,” she says quietly.