Desperate Girls (Wolfe Security #1)(64)

“He mentioned a pen pal once.”

Lindsey’s pulse quickened. “Really?”

“Yeah, some woman. He said he never met her in person. I think they connected through one of those prison pals programs. Think most of them are people doing mission work—you know, trying to convert condemned prisoners to Jesus.”

Lindsey was scribbling frantically now. A female pen pal.

“Did you mention this to the marshal who called you?”

“It was a brief interview, so no. Fact, I hadn’t thought about it until now. Why?”

“Did Corby tell you her name?”

Silence.

“Mr. Dewitt?”

“Can we go off the record?”

Lindsey stopped writing. “I’m not a reporter, Mr. Dewitt. I can’t make promises like that.”

“Well, I mailed a letter for him once.”

“To this woman?”

“Yeah.”

It was strictly against the rules, and Lindsey could only imagine why the reporter had done it. Maybe he was trying to curry favor with the subject of his future book. A smuggled letter could explain how Corby managed to get those threatening notes to Jen Ballard and Brynn Holloran.

“You remember her name?” she asked.

“Ann Johnson.”

“Is that Ann with an e?”

“I don’t remember.”

Lindsey smelled a lie. “What about her address?”

“I don’t recall. This was more than two years ago. It’s not like I took a picture of the letter or anything.”

She suspected that was precisely what he’d done. Or at least copied down the address for future reference. After all, the guy was working on a project he hoped to make money on. And this pen pal was potentially an inside source. Any reporter worth his salt would keep her info on file.

The woman herself might be hard to track down, though. Regardless of spelling, she had a very common name.

“Was she in Texas? Do you at least remember that?” Lindsey didn’t try to mask her impatience.

“Sorry.”

She bit her lip, frustrated.

“Listen, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep me out of this,” he said. “Corby’s a nutjob, and I really don’t want to get involved in this thing.”

“It’s a nationwide manhunt, so that’s not really up to me.”

“But—”

“And it’s safe to assume you’ll be hearing from the task force looking for Corby.” Especially since Lindsey planned to call them up and tell them everything. She’d be willing to bet the LA marshal’s office would haul this guy in for questioning as payback for holding out on one of their guys.

Lindsey checked her watch, ready to wrap up the interview and get moving on this lead.

“Just out of curiosity, your book about Corby—whatever happened to that?” she asked.

“Like I said, it never got off the ground.”

“But what about now, with all this renewed interest in Corby’s case?”

“Yeah, someone might do something, but it’s not going to be me,” he said. “The man’s a psycho. I’d be happy if I never saw him again.”

Erik lay in the dark with Brynn’s leg draped over him and her head resting against his side.

His mind was reeling. He’d broken every one of his personal rules. Not just broken—he’d hammered them into oblivion. He needed to get up and get out of here before he made it worse, but he couldn’t bring himself to move.

Brynn shifted and sighed, her breath warm against his skin, and Erik felt a knot in his chest. She was so damn beautiful, sleeping next to him that way. He needed to go. He needed to get up and get dressed and get the fuck out of her bed, but he couldn’t do it.

He should get her to do it for him. If he pissed her off enough, she’d kick him out of here, and his problem would be solved—if only temporarily.

He glanced down at her, all warm and soft and curled against him. He ran his hand over her perfectly round hip.

She shifted again, and this time, he could tell she was awake.

“Brynn.”

She sat up slightly and blinked into the darkness, then turned to glance at the clock. It was 1:33.

She looked at him, and his heart gave a kick at the sight of her all sleep-mussed.

Sighing, she lay back down and tucked her head against his chest. He combed his hand through her hair, letting it slide through his fingers.

“We need to talk, Brynn.”

Another sigh. “So talk.”

“We can’t do this again.”

Her body tensed, and he waited for what she’d say.

“So . . . this is a one-time thing?”

He caught the hurt in her voice.

“Maybe when all this is over . . .” He trailed off, not sure what he wanted to say.

She sat up propped on her elbow and looked at him. “What? You’ll go back to jet-setting with your celebrities, and I’ll go back to Pine Rock to practice law? Is that how this works?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never done this before.”

Her brow furrowed. “You’ve never gotten involved with a woman you’re protecting?”

“Never even been tempted.”