Page 155 of The Woman By the Lake

Before Riggs could reply, Nadia piped up.

“I have money to burn too, and access to a team of lawyers, Harry. So you might want to share my maiden name with him, and tell him, if he doesn’t back down, I’ll suddenly have a case of post-traumatic stress, and be suffering flashbacks and mental trauma. Thus, if he doesn’t want to be mired in litigation for the next ten years, whereupon, during that time, I might lay claim to a good deal more than the fine Fret County levies on trespassers, he might give significant consideration to fucking right off.”

Harry’s brows went up at Nadia, in her girlie fifties apron, delivering her words, before he busted out laughing.

But Riggs had turned his head to stare at her, because it was in that moment, unusually slow on the uptake, he realized the reason he wanted to work at building a future with her was because he was falling for her.

Jesus.

He thought if that shit ever happened, it would scare the fuck out of him.

But it didn’t.

It felt great.

She caught his eyes. “Too much?”

“No, honey, you’re never too much,” he said quietly.

Her brows drew down at his tone, but to get them out of this moment, which unfortunately wasn’t theirs alone, and still make it a moment, he bent to her and kissed her softly.

He returned his attention to Harry. “What she said.”

Harry was looking at Riggs with such a satisfied expression on his face, Riggs’s first instinct was to lean into one of the few things his father taught him, and like all the rest, it was no good. This was to say something in asshole to wipe that look off his friend’s face and share he had a dick, don’t mistake him for having feelings and being weak enough to show them.

Instead, he just held Harry’s gaze steady, because he wasn’t an asshole, he had feelings for Nadia and he was proud she returned them, and bonus, if Harry remembered how good Riggs had it, maybe Harry might find his way back to that too.

“Done with those two assclowns?” Riggs asked.

Harry shook it off and nodded.

Then he said, “Other piece of news. Bubbles came into the station yesterday. He suddenly remembered he didn’t buy that wine in Sonoma, but instead he was given it by someone who told him to sell it as house red in order to get rid of it. He did the research on it, found how much it was worth, and didn’t do as he was told, since he was hoping to sell it and make a lot more than seven bucks a glass on it. Somehow, word got back to who gave it to him, and they weren’t thrilled he didn’t do as he promised.”

Riggs let out a slow breath.

Jesus.

Bubbles.

“This is where his shit gets hardcore, and arguably hilarious,” Harry said.

Riggs felt his shoulders tense.

“What?” he asked.

“Apparently, there’s some wise guy snitch the US Marshalls placed in WITSEC in Wenatchee. Obviously, he’s supposed to keep his nose clean. Instead, he got bored, rounded up a local crew and started hitting decent-sized scores in two counties. One of them was the house of a county judge, which was supposed to be just shits and giggles for this guy. So as to be certain they didn’t have anything lead back to them, they essentially dumped everything they took from him, including a case of wine that was clearly a big deal. My guess is, Bubbles has his suspicions of who he told he sold that wine to you, in other words, who ratted him out to a supposed-to-be-retired mafia guy. But there was only so far Bubbles was prepared to go, because he didn’t tell me who that was. In the end, it was the big man himself with a couple of his crew who came to deliver the message he wasn’t thrilled Bubbles didn’t follow through with his orders.”

Riggs had stopped moving while he listened to this, and he felt Nadia had done the same thing at his side.

Which was why Harry said, “I know. Only Bubbles could get messed up with an ex-mafioso in witness protection.”

Yeah.

Only Bubbles.

But…

Mafia?

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