Page 25 of Secrets

Throwing my phone into the toilet now.

My eyes rove over the messages three more times before a long forgotten smile takes control of my lips and my heart does a strange squeeze.

I shouldn’t find anything this woman—mytarget—does endearing, but alas, I do. And there is absolutely no plausible reasoning for why I respond, but I do that as well.

Perhaps regret will come tomorrow, but for now, I feel something new. Something foreign, and I can’t fight the temptation not to grab onto it.

How exciting.

Istare at the text thread until the little bubbles sear themselves into my brain, and even after that, I can’t believe my eyes.

Yes.She said yes.

All morning, my body has been vibrating from elation, and despite how I’m supposed to be stressing over this new possible serial killer development, my mind is instead racing over a million and one places we can go.

There’s a new anime cafe opening up, but Elena doesn’t strike me as a TV watcher. We could always do one of the classics, like putt-putt or bowling, but I don’t want to put a definitive time limit on the date. There’s also dinner, but she’s not a fan of big crowds.

There definitelyhasto be food though, and maybe some music. Something that puts us closer together so I get the opportunity to touch her again. I need to see if the rest of her is as soft as her hands. Which, in retrospect, is kind of surprising because of her job…

Oh yeah, we can totally go hiking or go to the ast?—

A subtle kick under the table hits me right in the shin, yanking me from my thoughts. Agent Fikes’ side eyes me and tilts his head to the front of the room, which I follow to find my uncle looking less than impressed.

It’s a well-known fact that I can't concentrate on shit, but normally I’m a little better at it when it’s work related, especially when the room is as serious and grim as this. I suck my teeth, mentally slapping myself on the cheek to focus. “Sorry, boss. Can you repeat that?”

My uncle pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “I was explaining the tox report on Julio Juarez and asked if you can recall him being a user. There were no reports of casual use, only speculation.”

My insides turn. Julio was a user, a distributor,andan abuser—all the shitty things that rhyme. That man was a lot of things, yet somehow, I still harbor a little guilt over getting involved with him. At the time, he was a means to an end. A way in. Really, what better way to gather information on the Babin than by helping his enemy?

At least, that was my thought process going into it. My uncle had put up blockades one after another to prevent me from closing in on the Babins, and after a terrible, or perhaps an inspiring night, I decided to try another way. A sneakier, slightly-but-not-totally-illegal way, by becoming fast friends with a local mayor in Georgia who I heard was Alexi’s nemesis.

Turns out Julio wasn’t shit to Alexi. He was simply a puppet to the cartel, a man on strings being made to look as though he called the shots and knew everything about everything. When, really, he knewnothing. He was arrogant and stupid, and if there’s anything I regret doing, it’s working with him.

I never wanted him dead, though.

“Yes. He did a variety of drugs.” Which is hell of ironic considering his big thing while running for governor was to rid the state of them.

My uncle nods slowly. “And here’s where we come to an impasse.”

“What impasse?” I snap, my eyes narrowed.

“The vial and its contents can no longer be looked at as evidence in first degree murder because Juarez was laden with drugs. One of which was laced with fentanyl. A signature move by?—”

“The cartel,’’ I finish for him, the curtain of another lead falling closed. “They were using him. Why would they try to kill him before they got what they wanted?”

“We aren’t sure what the cartel wanted, Agent. And therein lies the problem.”

“So you’re saying the components found in the vial are null?”

“For the time being.” He nods again. “The best we’d even be able to charge with is maybe reckless homicide. It’s not worth the chase.”

It’s bullshit to ignore the vial, but I don’t push it, because I know it’d be pointless. I know my uncle well enough to know when a point is moot. “So our focus needs to shift?”

Agent James shakes his head. “Our focus has always been the cartel.”

“Yes. Of course.” I lift my hands in faux surrender before leaning back in the chair and letting my eyes drift to the others in the room. Beside me, my trainee scribbles furiously over a pad of paper, and I swear sparks will ignite if he moves any faster. Against the wall is the chief of police, Warren, and his deputy, both of whom have their arms crossed and deep set scowls.

It’s only now that I realize how heavy the air is. How thick. Something is happening, and I quickly decide to bury my obsession against the devil to focus on what the hell is going on now.

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