Page 32 of Sadie's Little Christmas

“Mr. Hawkins,” the detective greeted, sticking out his hand. “Dan Forrester. How you doing today?” The detective’s handshake was firm, and he was smiling, but it didn’t take a policeman to notice that his smile never quite traveled as far as his eyes.

“Detective,” Derek returned politely, now more curious than ever why he was being visited. More than that, though, there was something familiar about the other man’s name. He couldn’t remember where, but he was certain he’d heard it before. “How can I help you?”

“I came to see Sadie, actually. I’ve got a few questions to ask her.”

How did he know this man? The familiarity kept tickling at him and was followed by such a feeling of caution, Derek made no move to have Sadie summoned.

“I’m sorry, I was under the impression the investigation was over. You have her roommate.”

“Yes, we do,” Forrester gamefully agreed. “I’ve got to admit, though. I’m awfully surprised to find her in a place like this. Especially so soon after what happened.”

“Perhaps a place like this is exactly where she needs to be. She won’t be judged—”

That was when it snapped into focus. This was the detective Jared had told him about, the one who’d told Sadie she deserved what had happened to her. His curiosity died abruptly beneath a swift-rising wave of protective ire. He hid it under a slow chuckle that was anything but amused. “She won’t be judged,” Derek repeated meaningfully, “for things that aren’t her fault.”

Nodding, the detective looked around the room. His gaze fell on the assorted pictures hanging on Derek’s wall—nothing special, just a few of the many Littles he’d developed a great fondness for over the years, frozen in photographs in the midstof exploring various Ranch life activities. Forrester moved in closer to study each one.

“You know, I don’t think I believe you,” he said conversationally, leaning in to get a closer look at a Little girl, laughing as she was held across Moses’s knee at last summer’s fun camp games. Other places had kissing booths; they’d had a spanking booth where winners could turn in their tickets for either toys or spankings. Poor Moses had worn his arm out. “I’ve been looking online, and I’ve got to admit, according to what I’ve been reading, there a lot of things a submissive like her could get judged for,”—Forrester tossed him a grin, which again didn’t touch his eyes—“and punished for in a place like this. Makes me wonder, what exactly do you do here, Mr. Hawkins?”

“Nothing illegal.”

“How did she know about this place?”

“Through a mutual friend.”

“Who?”

“Her lawyer. You should already have his name.”

“I do, thank you. What confuses me is this. She goes through what I’m supposed to believe is hell for her…”

“She was nearly killed,” Derek cut in.

“If that were true, she wouldn’t be here. She’d be too freaked out to want to be here.”

If? Derek’s ire rose high.

“One would think she’d be too traumatized to want anything more to do with any of this crap.”

“Sadie has her scars,” he assured the man.

“Yet here she is, asking you to give her more. Like it was no big deal. Yeah.” Leaning away from the wall of pictures, Forrester turned back to face him. “I think I’d really like to talk to Sadie again.”

Derek would sooner cut off his own arm than fetch her. “I suggest you contact her lawyer and make an appointment.”

“That’s for her to tell me, not you. Bring her out, or I’ll have you arrested for interfering.”

Crossing the room, Derek didn’t stop until he was directly in front of the watchful detective. He promptly offered up his wrists for cuffs.

“Go on,” he challenged. “Jump, you’re feeling so froggy. I promise I’ll be out before I’ve been booked in, and you’ll be out of a job even faster.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. The minute those cuffs go on me, this place will go into lockdown, my secretary will be on the phone with my lawyer, and my lawyer will be on the phone to your police chief. An amicable man. I’ve played golf with him many times.”

Forrester clenched his jaw but otherwise didn’t move.

Derek eased another step closer, wrists still offered up.

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