Page 15 of Whispers and Wildfire

“Hey, bro,” I greeted him. “What’s up?”

“Just out following up on a few things.”

“Not another murder case, I hope.”

“No, nothing like that.”

Last year, some crazy shit had gone down with Garrett’s investigation of a cold case murder. He’d almost gotten himself killed. I’d been there—saw the whole thing in real time. I’d always respected my brother, but after watching him go through hell to save his wife, Harper, and his son Owen, I was in awe of him.

He was a freaking badass.

“I’d say let’s grab some lunch, but I’m buried,” I said. “Andrea is on maternity leave, and her replacement fell through.”

“That’s okay. I actually stopped by to ask you about something.”

I glanced up.

He had his cop face on. Serious, stoic, responsible. “Is something wrong, Deputy?”

“Do you know anything about the underground racing that’s been going on down at the old Cascade Speedway?”

Shit. “Why?”

“You know, rumors. Things get around.”

“Come on, you know better than to trust the gossip line. People say all kinds of wild stuff in this town.”

“I know.”

“Most of it’s bullshit.”

“Yeah.”

“Then what are you worried about?”

“You.”

I leaned back in the chair. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Or the roll cage in your Mustang?”

I grinned a little. “Safety first.”

Garrett glowered at me. Apparently, he didn’t find that amusing. “I thought you quit that scene a long time ago.”

“I did.” That wasn’t a lie. I had quit. I just hoped I could leave out the part where I’d started up again.

“Look, forget the uniform for a second. Officially, I’m not here talking to you about this. But unofficially…”

“Unofficially, what?”

“Someone saw you and let me know. Not to rat you out. They figured I’d want to know first so I could keep you out of trouble.”

“Not to rat me out, my ass. Who was it?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

I glanced away. “It’s not a big deal.”

---