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in the alley could’ve killed you.”

“I know. He’s good.” I leaned back against the wall, looking up at the drop ceiling tiles. “I’m not even sure how long he was following me before I spotted him. I wonder if he knows where I live. I’m guessing he does.”

“Kid! Quit pretending this is a non-issue!”

“What do you want me to do about it? I’m not going to run and hide.”

“Unbelievable. Bad enough you have a contract out on you. But to a guy who can beat you in a street fight? Shit… This is not good.” Quille jerked the bottom drawer of his desk open, pulling out two glasses and the bottle of rum.

“I’m looking into it. In the meantime, I’ll be ready if he tries to target me again.”

“Yeah, you do that,” he said, standing to lean over the desk and hand me a glass. “And you might even want to consider giving up this lone wolf act while you’re at it. You don’t have to take this on alone, you know.”

I smirked as I took a drink of the rum, thinking of a wolf out on some country hilltop. Too country for me, I thought. “One last thing,” I said, changing the subject. “You know anything about prostitutes and a dentist office?”

He shook his head before swallowing a shot worth of his drink. “Should I know something about prostitutes and a dentist office?”

“Guess not,” I said as I slid off the credenza. “Go home to your wife and start sucking up. Might help if you stop by Sandcastle’s diner and pick up a homemade pie.”

“Kid Harrison,” he said, pointing a finger at me. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before I take relationship advice from you.”

As I walked toward the stairs, I could still hear Quille swearing to himself in his office.

Chapter Sixteen

CHARLIE

Sunday, 10:57 p.m.

When I left the precinct, I couldn’t stop thinking about pie so I stopped at Sandcastle’s and ordered four specials and a lemon cream pie. As I was leaving, Quille entered. I smirked; he scowled. Neither of us spoke as he moved past me toward the counter.

Ten minutes later, I opened my apartment door and found Spence sitting at my dining room table. Beast was lying at his feet.

“This is a no dog building,” I said as I walked over and dumped the food bags.

Spence uncapped a beer and slid it my way. “Please tell me you bought enough food for both of us. I’m starving.”

“I bought plenty, but you’ll owe me. I planned on eating leftovers the next few days to avoid going grocery shopping.”

Spence walked into the kitchen and grabbed silverware.

I opened two containers and snuck a noodle under the table for Beast.

“I saw that!”

I hid my grin by taking a drink of the cold beer.

“Fill me in while we eat,” Spence said, sliding me a fork.

I waited until after the third mouthful of food went down before explaining my day. By the time I caught him up, my dinner was three-fourths gone. I opened the pie container and stabbed a forkful.

Spence smirked as he uncapped another beer. “I saw plates in the cupboard. Would you like me to get you one?”

“Don’t play Mr. Etiquette with me. Your house has more takeout containers and beer cans lying around than a frat house.”

“Until I hired Mrs. Allen to be my secretary.” He stabbed a chunk of pie for himself. “She cleaned my house while she worked today. Even did my laundry.”

“Sounds like a keeper. She single?”

“Widowed. But it would never work between us. Even if I was into women twice my age, she’s scared of dogs.” He set his fork down before leaning back in his chair and rubbing his non-existent belly. “Beast had to ride with me today, which isn’t ideal. Hard to be discreet with a hundred-pound rottweiler’s head hanging out the window of your truck. Which leads me to a question.”

“No.”

“You need a bodyguard. He needs somewhere to be during the day. It’s a win-win.”

“I’m not running a kennel. No.”

Beast whined from under the table.

I looked down at him. “No offense, buddy. Just wouldn’t work. We’d drive each other crazy.”

He laid his head on his paws and whined again.

“Fine. One day. That’s it.” Beast’s tailless backside started wiggling. I rolled my eyes and sat up. “Beast can hang out with me tomorrow, but only tomorrow. You’ll need to sucker someone else into watching him after that.”

“Deal,” Spence said as he gathered empty food containers. “I brought my laptop. You want me to run some backgrounds?”

“Yeah, that would be great. Run Colby Brown’s. Can you also see what you can dig up on Roseline? I don’t trust Gibson to be thorough with this double-homicide case.”

“Sure thing,” Spence said, dumping the food containers into the trash can and smashing it down so the overflow didn’t fall out. “I’ll run the backgrounds while you do the dishes.”

I spotted a three-foot by three-foot cloth-covered cube sitting in my living room. It had a handle on one end. “What’s that?” I asked, pointing. “Beast’s bed?”

“Nope.” He walked over and pulled a Velcro strap, unfolding the contraption into a long floor mat. “My bed.”

“Why is it here?”

“I planned on sleeping in front of the door. Unless of course you invite me to share your bed.” His eyebrows danced up and down.

“And at what point did you decide we were having a sleepover?”

He flashed a wicked smile at me before answering. “I keep the mat and clothes in my car. Let’s not forget that there’s a contract out on your head. And this arrangement—” he pointed to the mat, “—is just for tonight. Tomorrow, you need to arrange some protection.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Darlin,” he said, shaking

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