Page 16 of Rogue Wave

I went to close my door, but he stuck his foot out to stop it.

Oh, hell no.

“You need to leave, or I’m calling the cops,” I told him point-blank.

His eyes moved from mine to something behind me, and I knew Vivi had likely walked up.

Rourke was an asshole, but not usually in front of other people. He had to keep up his façade of being a relatively decent man. He may be a prick with me in private, but he wouldn’t overstep with Vivi in the same space.

His gaze came back to mine, and I knew he’d decided to retreat. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Please don’t,” I informed him, and God, I hoped he listened.

He turned and walked back down my front steps, and I closed the door swiftly. I watched through the side windows next to my door as he charged his way back to his car.

“Everything okay?” Vivi called from behind me.

Feeling better now that he’d left, I turned back to her and plastered a smile on my face.

“Yeah, sorry. That was Rourke,” I told her. She knew who he was and the fallout from our breakup. “He saw me on the news and claimed that he wanted to check in on me.”

I knew it was more than that. There had also been a reward offered for more information, and I knew that was exactly what he was up to. Probably wanted to pick my brain and see if I had anything valuable he could take to the cops himself.

Why he thought I’d tell him anything I hadn’t already told the cops was beyond me, but I’d given up trying to understand Rourke months ago when we broke up.

“I think you should call Hank and tell him Rourke came by,” Vivi suggested.

That wasn’t going to happen.

Mostly, I didn’t want to tell Hank because I knew he’d likely somehow make it my fault.

I would just ignore it and hope Rourke didn’t actually come back tomorrow so I could just enjoy the day in peace.

5

“I tried to catch some fog. I mist.”

—It’s science

Hank

It was a foggy morning—damp with a stillness to the air that seemed to permeate everything around. But it also smelled like the sea. That smell was why I lived here.

I loved the peacefulness and tranquility this small town gave me, and the smell of the ocean when I stepped outside my house brought a level of calm that my life—and career—very rarely saw.

I grabbed my phone and my windbreaker and called for Shadow to follow me.

Shadow was one of our K-9 officers and had been with us for two years. Normally, the deputies worked with the dogs, but Shadow had become mine about six months ago when Lieutenant Benson retired earlier than planned. We had two other K-9 officers—a bloodhound we used mostly for tracking suspects and missing people, and a Malinois we used for tracking and narcotics.

Shadow was a black Labrador and was mostly used for emotional support when we dealt with children, but she was also quite good for drug sniffing. She had done exceptionally well at the beach the day Hazel found the drugs. She was sharp as a tack when we needed her to be on the scent, but also sweet and loving with the kids if they were dealing with a tough situation. But in order for her to do all of this, she needed exercise. Otherwise, she got bored and would get into trouble.

This was why she and I were headed to the beach behind my house, tennis ball in hand. I would wear her out a little before we went in for our shift.

Hazel’s car was the first thing I noticed, parked right in front of her house. I’d called the tow company that was listed on the ticket she’d given me last night and paid to have it dropped off first thing. I knew she believed otherwise, but I hadn’t actually been the one to write the ticket. I also knew she had been having a rough go the last few days and figured I’d give her a break.

Plus, as much of a stickler for the rules as she thought I was, the person who’d actually written her ticket was an even bigger prick when it came to tickets. Deputy Bitterman had been here for more than a decade. He’d been a dick since the beginning but became even more so once I beat him out for the sheriff job.

He wasn’t just a dick to me, but to most people in the town. He was notorious for writing speeding tickets for two miles per hour over the speed limit and other bullshit like that. When she’d said she was technically parked a few feet away from the hydrant, I believed her. Bitterman was likely just being his usual self and wrote her the ticket and called the tow company anyway. As much as I disliked the man, he’d never broken any rules or given me any reason to fire him. He was just a prick.