Page 28 of Illicit

I’ve never been more disappointed that a burglary resulted in not one thing stolen.

Teagan’s studio apartment is smaller than my living room. She wasn’t kidding when she told me she had nothing that anyone would want. And it’s not lost on me that we’re living parallel lives, both packed and ready for new things, even if we are going in opposite directions.

Her place was tossed—it was a fucking mess. She was packed to move right after graduation this weekend, but whoever broke in undid her hard work.

Boxes were dumped and bags were ransacked. It was easy to see what the intruder was after.

Information.

Unfortunately for them, Teagan Coleman is not only a lover of information and obsessed with cold cases, but she’s also a tree hugger and a minimalist.

There was no connection of Teagan Coleman to old man Hayes in her apartment to be found since she keeps everything on her laptop. Who knew her inner environmentalist would save the day. She didn’t even have any pictures out to incriminate herself. There might still be a chance that Jules will take my call. There’s no evidence she isn’t the fake granddaughter she claimed to be at their meeting. Thank goodness there aren’t photo IDs on registrations.

We didn’t take the time to clean up the place, but she did pack a small bag for another day with me. She may have had one wayward semester in college, but Teagan is smart and always has been. She might have met with Jules Robichaux by herself, but she did it in a public place. She knows she’s not safe in her apartment by herself. She didn’t even argue.

It’s one small miracle since this shit show started yesterday, but I’ll take it. Arguing with Teagan sits near the bottom of my list of things I enjoy. It barely ranks above buying her sexy underwear, which I didn’t know I hated until today.

We’re back at my place, and together, we annihilated a large pizza.

Teagan tosses the last pizza bone in the empty box, picks up her phone, presses a few buttons, and leans it on the greasy pizza box.

I gulp down the last of my water. “Who are you calling?”

Her eyes angle to mine as she leans forward. “Stella Hayes—the real Stella Hayes.”

I barely have a chance to claim the spot on the sofa next to her when the caller immediately pops up on Facetime. The woman looks older than me. She’s also anxious as hell. “Teagan! Are you okay? I was so worried when I didn’t hear from you last night. Were you able to meet Robichaux?”

The woman who feels like a stranger to me compared to who she used to be, rests her forearms on her knees, and I swear the old Teagan makes an appearance. It brings back years of memories with the Colemans while doing some weird shit to my insides.

I choose to ignore the weird shit and focus on the stranger on the screen as I listen to Teagan be downright sweet.

Something she has yet to shine my way in the last twenty-four hours, let alone two years.

“I’m fine.” She smiles into the camera. “Yes, if you can believe it, Robichaux actually showed up. I’m so sorry I didn’t call you last night, Stella. Things got hectic after the meeting.”

Stella glances at me then back to Teagan. “Did you find out anything?”

“I’m sorry. The only thing he verified is that he communicated with your dad, which we knew. We do have a new avenue to explore though.” Teagan pulls in a deep breath before tipping her head in my direction. “Stella, this is Rocco Monroe. He’s with the DEA.”

“Good to meet you, Stella. Teagan has filled me in on your dad. I know you’re worried. I’ll do what I can to help.” What I don’t say is that I’ll do just about anything to keep Teagan speaking to me. “I think we should start with the emails. If you’re willing to share them, I can subpoena the IP address for records of other communication being sent and received.”

Stella’s hesitant stare lingers on me for an odd amount of time before she looks back at Teagan. “I’m not sure. Why would the DEA help me when I didn’t have any luck with the State Department?”

Teagan opens her mouth to say something, but I beat her to it. “I can’t speak for the State Department, but Robichaux has been on my radar for a while. If this leads to a drug case, great. If not, I’m willing to help Teagan—especially if that means she’ll retire her undercover hat.”

When I glance over, Teagan is rolling her eyes. I’m not sorry, and I don’t give a shit. What I do need is for her not to perform any more sting operations.

“I was worried about her too,” Stella adds for good measure. “Heck, she’s young enough to be my daughter.”

That’s the farthest thing Teagan Coleman feels like to me, so I say, “Then we can agree that it won’t happen again. But if you give me access to the emails, I can take it from here.”

Teagan sits up straight and puts a hand out. “Wait a second. I’ve logged so many hours on this case, I feel like Heath is my grandfather. You can’t cut me out.”

“I can,” I refute before adding as I give her the side eye, because I’m tired of this argument. “And I will.”

Teagan glares at me. “You said we’d work on this together.”

I shrug. “Let’s see where the emails take us before we chart the course for the rest of the case.”

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