Page 43 of Seaside Strangers
“No problem. Anything to help you big-city boys.”
“Thanks.” His upper lip twitched into the hint of a sneer, though his tone stayed polite. “Have a good day, and let me know if Ms. Jensen shows up anywhere in your area.”
“I will.”
“Appreciate it.”
He ended the call and muttered under his breath, “Idiot.”
Within fifteen minutes, he was back in his department vehicle, dialing the same number on the throwaway phone. After this conversation, he would break the device into pieces and dispose of them in different trash containers.
Adrian Hernandez picked up on the first ring this time. “What is it?”
“I heard back from that cop in North Carolina. Says someone turned in the girl’s purse.”
“And?” The man’s impatience came through clearly.
“And I think he’s lying.” Parisi shifted the car into drive. He might as well grab something to eat, then find a place for a quick snort. “I could be wrong, but he seemed a little too interested in finding out what we had on her.”
“Yeah? What’s his name? I’ll send a few guys down that way to see what he knows.”
“Special Agent Brian Malone. Called from the Elizabeth City SBI office.”
“Got it. If this turns out to be something, you’ll have a little extra in your pay this month.”
The line went dead before he could respond.
Hanging up the phone in the quiet report room, Brian ran a hand down his face and let out a slow breath. He hated lying to the detective, but until he had a better sense of how much danger KC’s girlfriend was in, it seemed like the smarter move. No point handing over information he didn’t fully understand yet.
Thinking back over the conversation, he realized he’d laid it on pretty thick several times.
Probably thinks I’m some dumb hick.
His phone chimed on his hip. Pulling it out, he glanced at the screen and lifted a brow. A text from Sean.
He read it quickly. His younger brother was boarding a flight to North Carolina and would grab a rental car once he landed. Brian hadn’t expected him to drop everything and come home, but that was how the Malones operated. One call, and the rest showed up.
Sean had also reached out to a DEA contact in Chicago and would fill them in when he got there.
Brian slipped the phone back into his pocket, unease settling in. Maura… Moriah… whatever her namereally was… he hoped she wasn’t about to drag KC into something they couldn’t get out of. If she wasn’t telling them the whole truth, this could go sideways fast.
The door swung open, and one of the field training officers stepped in with a recent academy grad. Brian straightened, gave them both a nod, and headed out.
Next stop was the district attorney’s office. He had a meeting to go over yesterday’s road rage turned armed robbery. At least that would keep his attention off the situation waiting back at the beach house.
Unintentional or not, Uncle Dan had a way of bringing trouble to their doorstep.
Damn that man and his soft heart.
Moriah sat on the bed in silence, watching KC pace the length of the room. He wasn’t angry—he was furious. She could see it in the heat burning in his eyes. Not the kind that had been there that morning, but something sharper, more volatile, like he was one wrong word away from losing control.
Had it really only been two hours since they’d been wrapped up in each other?
Finally, he stopped and turned to face her, arms crossed over his chest. She swallowed hard when his stormy eyes locked onto hers, but she didn’t look away. He had every right to be enraged.
“So… do I call youMauraorMoriah?”
The question came out clipped and controlled, which somehow made it sting more.
