Page 25 of Rules

"Was it a hundred percent match?" I asked, dreading the answer he might tell me.

"No," Law hesitated. "It came back as a forty-seven percent match."

"That's not exactly comforting odds." I lean against my kitchen counter, staring out the window at the misty morning. "Any transactions in the area to back it up?"

"Mouse and Keyboard are searching now."

"Did you share this information with the FBI?" I waited for a response. "Law?"

His answer came across begrudgingly. "No, not yet."

This time it was my turn to pause and compose myself before I spoke. "You know withholding information–"

"I know Tobias, it breaks the rules. I know."

I looked to my ceiling. "There are rules for a reason. The FBI has a bigger reach and more manpower."

"I know, but Michael is my capture. They fucked it up and let him go. I caught him, he belongs to me."

I closed my eyes and silently blew out my breath before I answered. "I get it. You caught a horrible man. But they didn't just let him go. He killed two agents."

"Exactly," I can tell Law is growing more irritated the longer this conversation goes. "Those idiots sent two agents to transport a man whose martial arts training is enough to warrant four agents, at least. They basically asked Michael to escape. I won't let that happen again. This time, me and mine will transport that bastard ourselves. Let's see the little prick pull that stunt with us."

Swallowing, I shook my head. "I get it, I do. But you know in order to make the conviction stick–"

"I know."

"Listen, I know you know what you're doing. I'll give you twenty-four hours to inform the FBI or I'll have to."

Another pause on his side, "Deal." With that, he ended the call and left me with another situation to manage. Fucking territorial bounty hunters. I didn't get a chance to tell him I think he's waiting for his resources. The Texas lead feels wrong. Too convenient. Michael is many things, but careless isn't one of them.

An hour later, I park at the far end of the Whispering Pines Strip Mall, deliberately positioning myself away from Blossoms. Opting to meet with each business between here and hers gives me the time to get my head straight, to remember I'm here as Sheriff Trenton, not as the man who kissed her senseless against the wall of her shop. The man who can never let that happen again.

My first stop, Tech Wizards, a small computer repair shop owned by the Zhang brothers. Through the window, I can see Kevin already helping a customer, while his brother Peter works at the back counter. The bell chimes as I enter.

"Morning, Sheriff Trenton!" Peter looks up, his usual cheerful expression sobering at the sight of my uniform. "Everything okay?"

"Morning, Peter. Just making rounds. Got a minute to talk about security measures?"

Peter nods, motioning me to follow him to a small office area. For fifteen minutes, we discussed their current setup. I'm pleased to see they have a decent alarm system, a camera over the register, bars on the back windows. I also learned the brothers have a taser under the counter and have taken classes on how to use it. Lock boxes for customer equipment, better exterior lighting, a silent alarm button under the counter. The only thing I could suggest is they carry that taser with them as they open in the morning.

"You really think whoever's doing these break-ins might target us?" Peter asks, concern evident.

"Better safe than sorry. They’ve hit businesses already, all with minimal security. Make yourselves a harder target."

I thank him and head next door to Lilacs & Lace, a women's boutique owned by Martha Reynolds. The shop should have opened thirty minutes ago according to the hours posted, but the doors are still locked. Martha is meticulous about time and presentation; her window displays change weekly and are the talk of the town.

I cup my hands against the glass, peering inside. The windows are tinted a dark purple from the inside. I can just barely make out that only the back half of the lights are on. I knock loudly, then try calling the store's number. It rings inside, unanswered. Stepping to the side I look in again and don't see any movement. I don't like this situation. I don't like it at all.

"Damn it." I mutter, my hand instinctively moving to rest on my holster.

Given the recent break-ins, and my inability to detect what Michael was up to. I'm not taking chances. I radio in my location and my concern. Mainly to cover my own ass in case there's nothing wrong other than me breaking into the store. I make my way around to the alley behind the strip mall. Rounding the corner I stop in my tracks, Martha's car is parked in her assigned spot. Fuck.

The service entrances for each business line the back wall—some with security bars, others with just standard locks. Lilacs & Lace has a metal door, with a regular turn knob. The door's hard to miss; it's painted purple to match the storefront. When I try the handle, it turns easily. Double fuck.

My pulse quickens. Drawing my weapon, I nudge the door open with my shoulder.

"Sheriff's Department!"

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