World's Worst Boyfriend: A Romantic Comedy Adventure (Fake It Book 3) by Carina Taylor (books to get back into reading .TXT) 📕

I glanced back at the table where Sullivan sat, trying to look pensive. His lawyer’s face was stoic as he straightened his papers and deposited them into his briefcase.

“I really thought I was done with that guy.” I shook my head.

“He personally requested to work with you,” the chief shrugged. “I think you’re the right guy for the job, so if he’s more comfortable divulging information to you, then the faster we’ll have this wrapped up.”

“What next?”

“Now you go home. You take a couple of days off. When you come back, we’ll have sorted through the rest of the lawyering up these guys are going to do. Several of them are out on bail already.” He shook his head in disgust. “At least we have concrete evidence of the deal.”

West grunted, “What about Jenkins?”

“We found him. They picked him up in Florida, actually. The FBI are wanting us to hand over evidence to them. They have cases in connection with this.”

“Did you tell them where they could shove it? This is our case.”

“Unfortunately, I think we’re going to have to cooperate. It will mean longer prison sentences for some of them. I guess there’s an unsolved murder of a governor’s aide one of them is involved with. They were tightlipped about who and when.”

We watched as Sullivan’s lawyer stood up and left the room. Leaving him sitting there smirking at us through the window. He knew we were watching.

“Do you mind if I have a word with him?” I asked.

“Be my guest. Just remember nothing is finalized and that he’s lawyered up. We’ll go before the judge on Tuesday for a special hearing.”

I nodded as I slipped out of the office and into the interrogation room. Sullivan didn’t look surprised in the least.

I sat down on the uncomfortable folding chair, grimacing as I did. I still hadn’t recovered from the record-breaking splinter.

Sullivan smirked. “So. Where did you get shot? You hid that part well. My new security guy was convinced he shot you.”

“He missed.”

Sullivan chuckled. “Well, I guess he wasn’t as good a shot as he claimed. I fired him after that night. He said he liked to kill any and all witnesses.”

“My guardian angel has been working overtime lately and probably deserves a raise.”

Sullivan cracked a smile. “I didn’t know he was going to take a shot at you. I’m not a killer. I don’t want any bodies on my hands.”

“You know, Sullivan, though it hurts every fiber of my being, I believe you.”

He laid his hands flat on the table. “Where do we go from here?”

Part of me wanted to string him along and keep him nervous—after the months of stress I’d felt when he held the upper hand, I kind of wanted to watch him squirm. Another part of me wanted to be done with it and go find Saidy just so that I could see with my own eyes that she was okay.

“Well, if you keep cooperating, you should walk out of this thing fairly unscathed.” I cleared my throat and pushed the brim of my hat up, resting my hat on my head like a kid wearing a hat five sizes too big. “My question, is why.”

“I’m too pretty for prison,” he said with a grin.

“You know I’m not talking about that. I mean, why didn’t you run? You had millions waiting for you.”

Sullivan shrugged. “Listen, you’re not my shrink, and I don’t think I need to answer that unless my lawyer is present.”

“I’m not asking as a cop. Call it mild curiosity. Why didn’t you have me killed?”

Now Sullivan looked especially uncomfortable. “I’ve got standards. Not many, but I’ve got them. Happy now?” He ground out.

“Actually, yeah.” I stood up.

“I knew I should have run when I went to lunch with Saidy. She’s a great guilt tripper though,” he muttered as I walked out of the room, my steps the lightest they’d been in months.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Saidy

I glanced through the peephole and saw Fletcher standing there. With a happy cry, I flung the door open.

“You’re safe!” I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders and hugged him close. He enveloped me in his arms and lifted me off the ground, hugging me tight to his chest. He kissed the top of my head.

“Honey, I’m home,” he said. I laughed—and maybe cried a smidge.

“I was so worried something was going to happen to you. I just knew something bad was going to happen.”

“Well, I’m here now, and I’m fine, for the most part. It feels so good to be done. The whole investigation has been wrapped up, and now all I have to do is testify and a few other things. But now I can go back to being me. And I made detective.”

“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” I asked.

He nodded. “You don’t even know how much I’ve hated lying to you all this time. It was killing me on the inside.

“I think it was killing both of us,” I agreed. “I just didn’t know why.”

“And you’re sure you’re not mad at me for lying?”

“Fletcher, I understand that was way beyond your control. I met you in the middle of it. You didn’t have a choice! I don’t know how you did it all that time. I was so nervous just from going to lunch with him.”

“You shouldn’t have done that. You could have been hurt,” he admonished.

I rolled my eyes, “I was so scared for you that I even got my grandmother in on it.”

Fletcher laughed, his chest rumbling against me. “Wow, that is pretty nervous. And I’m proud of you. Don’t let that woman push you around.”

“I even wrote it in my planner,” I told him.

“Oh that is serious,” He pretended to look properly impressed as he carried me inside the house. He kicked the door shut and continued to carry me to the couch where he sat down with me on his lap. “I’m glad you stood up to her. And you did a very brave thing trying to