Page 48 of Shephard

But when I’d learned my dad was dying of pancreatic cancer, something inside of me had wanted to take the time to tell him off before he died. Something had changed the first time I’d walked into his aging home, dishes piled everywhere, trash sitting on the front porch from weeks before. Maybe there was a little bit of a caring human being inside of me after all.

I’d gone to see him several times since moving here. Maybe his terminal illness had affected my choice of where I’d decided to land after the destruction of my illustrious career.

Or as the reporters and other horrible people had said, where I’d fled to with my tail between my legs. “He’s doing as well as can be expected. The doctors gave him six months, but he keeps on ticking.”

“Stubborn like you.”

“I guess so.”

The awkward silence between us was abnormal. We used to be able to talk about everything and anything. And I did mean everything. He treated me like a buddy with a dick between my legs. Our conversations had bordered on raunchy.

“What is it? Another warning?” He always had words of wisdom for me.

His hesitation was followed by a deep sigh. “I don’t know if you want to hear this.”

“What is it? Just spill it.” I was already antsy, the feeling of being watched starting a couple of minutes after I’d parked. I stared out the windshield, but the angle of the sun was too bright.

“Jameson divorced his wife. It happened really fast.”

“Well, good for him. Maybe his wife figured out he’s a womanizer.” I’d been the stupid one. I’d met him on the one and only vacation I’d given to myself after an eight-year stretch. I’d met him in the cabana, the conversation becoming lively. We’d enjoyed spending time together, which had included a passionate affair. I hadn’t known that’s what it had actually been at first.

Call me gullible. Call me an idiot. He’d lived in Virginia, not too far away from my work, but both our jobs had been important.

I’d had no clue he also had a wife and child. I’d surfed the internet, learning he was a wealthy entrepreneur. But there’d been zero mention of a family. He’d even mentioned one of us moving to be closer to the other, hinting twice at marriage. But something changed and he became a different man.

One month later and I had reporters on my doorstep and appearing at my job.

That was already after I’d broken it off with him, even if he hadn’t wanted to take no for an answer.

“He’s marrying his assistant. She’s half his age. She’s also pregnant with his child.”

Did a small ache remain since the stupid girl inside of me had thought he was the one? Yes. But the scars from his abuse were a damn good reminder that he’d been nothing but a user. “I knowwhy you’re telling me, just another attempt to remind me to move on, but I assure you it’s not necessary.”

“If you say so. You forget I know you extremely well also.”

He’d been the one to keep me from using my service revolver on the asshole. “Stop worrying. I love it here and the people are great.”

“Now, I know there’s something wrong.”

“Just this case I’m working on. Nothing more.”

Baron exhaled. “You need to remember you’re no longer a detective.”

Yeah, that had been basically stripped away from me as well as my dignity. How could I forget? “As I said, stop worrying. Let’s talk in a week or so.”

That meant more than a month.

“I’ll let you know if anything else comes up.”

“You’re a good friend,” I told him.

“Nope. I’m an asshole. It’s currently the sergeant’s favorite term to describe me.”

“A man of few words.”

As soon as I made the comment, I thought of Shephard. Being unable to get the sexy hunk off my mind was starting to become troublesome.

“Be good and safe, Denny.” He’d almost never called me by my real first name, preferring Denny instead. It was just another reminder of what I’d lost.