Straight Flushed (Hot Pursuit #1)(39)

“I hope not. I told him and I’m going to tell you the same, you represent this company at all times. When you’re on assignment, or in the grocery store, or taking a crap, you represent us. You both showed a serious lack in judgment and awareness.”

“I agree, sir.” I sat up and braced myself. “It’s inexcusable.”

“And I’m not sure what the hell was going on in that gym between you two.”

“Nothing, sir. I swear.” I interjected. “Vance was razzing me. That’s all it was and nothing more.”

Doubt flickered in his eyes then quickly faded. “That’s what I hoped to hear. Let this be the last time I have to bring that up. Now.” He grunted and released a big breath. “This is going to bring on some bad publicity, but we’ll recover. In a week’s time this will be old news. But I’d like to use this as a prime example of what can happen when you let your guard down.”

“Yes, sir,” I slouched slightly, relaxing a bit. I hoped that was the worst I would have to endure. It hadn’t been nearly as bad as I’d anticipated.

“I expect more from both of you.” He cocked a judgmental eye. “Clean it up.”

“Absolutely. It won’t happen again.”

He uncrossed his hands and ran his fingers through his wiry, gray hair then leaned back. The leather chair squeaked as his weight shifted. “Now, onto what I really need to talk to you about. I’m assuming you didn’t recognize anything about the individual on the video?”

“No, sir. I have no clue who it was.” I shook my head.

He grunted. “All right, just keep thinking on it. I’m not the type of person—and you aren’t either—to allow fear to govern. Be aware. Be on guard. And be the best. And from here on out, watch your back.”

I nodded. “Always.” My time to leave had arrived, but I had a question I reluctantly wanted to ask. I knew Cavanaugh wouldn’t say much, if anything, but I wanted to know how my friend was doing. “Sir, have you heard anything about Avery?”

He sat quietly for a beat. “He’s in the hands of I.P.D., what’s to know?”

I grinned and expected he would be as tightlipped. “I only wondered if he was well. That’s all.”

“He’s under our watch. Of course he’s well, Cain.” He kept his voice firm but then he winked.

I smiled and stood up. “Thanks.”

“Oh, Cain?” Cavanaugh said. “I gave the detectives your information, so don’t be surprised if they come knocking on your door.” I stopped in my tracks, and my smile fell. “Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Have a good day, sir.” I left his office and walked back to my desk.

Vance came up to my side and lightly punched my shoulder. “You still employed?”

“Yeah.” I sighed, glancing up at him. I considered telling Vance what had happened outside the café with the two mystery men, but it would have included talking about how things ended with Gabe, and I didn’t have the energy. I was so tired. If I went anywhere near that conversation, I was going to wind up in a puddle of tears. I avoided it completely and decided to save it for another day when I felt stronger and more rested. I had an image to uphold. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be. I’m going to go grab a cup of coffee from the shop down the street. You want anything?”

“Nah, I’m good.” He glanced down at his watch. “We have about an hour before we have to head out.”

“Who do we have today?” I asked, wondering what kind of job Cavanaugh was going to give us as backlash.

“Cake job today.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Go grab some coffee then we’ll head out.”

“K. Be right back.”

When I walked outside, most of the media who’d been swarming earlier had departed, with the exception of one local news van. I supposed someone inside B&B had released a statement and everyone else was busy writing their stories. As I strolled down the street, my name was called from behind me. I turned and saw two unfamiliar men coming toward me.

I put my hand on my gun tucked inside my jacket.

“Miss Cain?” one of them repeated.

“Who wants to know?” I asked.

“We’re the detectives assigned to the assault case here. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”





Thirteen



The two detectives unclipped their badges from their hips and showed them to me. I leaned in cautiously and read them.

“Detective Kent,” the shorter of the two men said, introducing himself with an extended hand. I looked from him to his counterpart’s. They both looked more legitimate than Detectives Smith and Jones. I replayed the encounter in my mind again and shook my head. There was no way those two men had been detectives.

“Miss Cain?” Detective Kent asked.

“Yes, I’m sorry,” I said, realizing I was holding his hand. I released my grip. “What’d you say?”

“We’d like to ask you a few questions about what happened here this weekend.”

“Oh sure,” I said. “But honestly, I don’t have anything new to add to the statements I already gave at the hospital. I’m sorry. I watched the security footage and I didn’t recognize the person that came in. I wish I did.”