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Trevor crosses his arms. “You didn’t see their faces?”
I shake my head. “No, I didn’t get a good look at them.”
“I’d bet a mint it was that damn taco guy.”
I frown. “Milo?”
“Yeah, who else?”
“No. He’s not the type.”
“There you go again, Anna,” he says. “He’s a mob schmuck with a criminal record and a score to settle,” he argues. “Who else could it be?”
I bite my tongue. I want to defend him more, but it might look suspicious if I do. I have no reason to side with Milo… that they know of.
I shrug. “I don’t know.” I rub the back of my neck. “Anyway, thanks for checking out the house,” I tell them. “I really appreciate it.”
Trevor nods. “I should get back to the station and find someone’s ass to kick.”
I gesture to the stairs. “I’ll walk you out.”
I avoid Vincent’s eyes as I walk down the stairs, but I feel his hard stare all the way down. Trevor follows me down to the bakery kitchen and pauses by the back exit.
“I’ll keep you updated on what we find,” he says. “Stay low for a while, all right?”
“Will do.” I cross my arms. “Thank you again, Trevor. Life constantly reminds me I can count the number of people I trust on one hand. It’s nice to know you’re still among them, even after all the bullshit my stubborn gut gets us into.”
He smiles. “Which finger am I?”
I flip my middle finger up and we laugh.
“I was hoping for the pinky,” he jokes.
“Maybe someday you’ll get there.”
He bites his inner cheek. “Listen, Anna, if you and Charlotte ever need anything, I’m here.” He lays a soft touch on my arm and makes eye contact. “Anything. That’s the way it is, no matter how many arguments we get into during a case. Okay?”
I look down at his fingers wrapped around my elbow. “Uh, thanks, Trev,” I say, easing back. “But I think we’ll be okay.”
His hand lingers on me for another moment before he lets go. “Stay safe, partner,” he says.
“You, too.”
He slides his sunglasses on and steps out into the alleyway. I close the door behind him, giving it a good yank to make sure it latches.
“Anything else I need to know?”
I look at Vincent standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Nope,” I say, shrugging. “I’m gonna go check on Charlotte.”
His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t ask questions. “I’ll bring up some lunch,” he says. “Coffee?”
“And lots of it,” I say with a nod. “Thanks.”
I pass by him and head back upstairs, my guts churning with each step. I hate lying to my brother. I’m not even sure why I did. Milo’s officially a dirty little secret. That will come back to bite me eventually, but I can come up with a good excuse before then.
Hopefully.
CHAPTER 22
