Chapter 3 #2
Secret intel from an unrevealed source confirmed Brandon Ward, Weston Murphy, Charles Madden, Corydon Emerson, Alexander Battle and Jayson Knight had been on scene at Donato’s lakeside home in Upstate New York when the man fell to his death from a rooftop patio.
He’d had a broken neck and a hunting knife sticking out of his gut.
At first, she suspected the group might have had something to do with it.
But now she wasn’t so sure. Jayson barely left his house.
He was a homebody who would turn fifty in less than a year.
Sure, he seemed to be in pretty good shape, but she had a hard time believing he and his silver fox friends were running around the country as some black ops syndicate and had eliminated a top mob dog.
Something didn’t add up.
She needed to get closer to him, but how? He’d run away from her so fast her head had nearly spun. She supposed she could go with option number two. Or, in this case, silver fox number two: Alexander Battle—the only other unattached man in the group.
But she’d chosen to target Jayson because he seemed like an easier way in. The man was single, lived a quiet, unassuming life, and loved his daughter.
Although Battle was still an option, she decided to steer clear of the playboy for now because he seemed…
well, exhausting. And, if she were being honest, she’d been drawn to Jayson Knight immediately, from the moment she saw his picture in his file.
Attractive and competent-looking, the former Ranger made certain parts of her tingle.
Parts that had been ignored for far too long.
For years, she’d simply kept her love life casual because she’d been too focused on school then work. Every so often, she’d accept a date and occasionally indulge in some time between the sheets. But she’d never allowed anything serious to develop. Until Ian.
Dropping down on the couch, she sighed. A couple of years ago, the pressure of nearing forty hit her upside the head like someone had whacked her with a tire iron.
And Ian Wahl had strolled in at the exact right moment.
A fellow agent, he’d helped train her after she left her desk job.
They’d ended up falling into bed and then started dating.
The moment she thought things were getting serious, he told her not to get attached.
Apparently, he had no plans to settle down. Ever.
Hearing that had hurt, but Sabrina had laughed it off. Told him she was on the same page. But it couldn’t have been further from the truth. She’d stupidly started falling for the smooth-talking jerk, and he didn’t like her enough to pursue anything long-term.
So, she’d bandaged her fragile heart and moved on as best as she could.
But seeing Ian every day and continuing to work with him was difficult—on her heart and her psyche.
It also didn’t help when he started flirting with a new recruit.
It didn’t take long to see how he operated, and she began to warn any new woman who joined their team about Agent Casanova.
When he found out, he confronted her. Advised her to get over him and mind her own business.
He’d been cruel and arrogant, and she’d slapped him across his narcissistic face.
Reporting him to her supervisor would’ve been fruitless.
There was a clear Boy’s Club. And Ian Wahl?
Well, he was their favorite son. Although she’d never told her dad what happened between them, he was smart enough to put two and two together.
Once he caught on, he froze Ian out, and any previous friendliness he’d shown toward the man turned to cool indifference.
When the opportunity to work undercover in Montana presented itself, she’d nabbed it fast, knowing getting away from the office and Agent Asshole would be a welcome relief.
Now she needed to get close to Jayson, but the second she showed interest, he’d bolted.
What the hell? Was she that undesirable?
Why was it the second a woman hit forty, she became invisible to men?
Practically obsolete. A spinster cat lady with a collection of crocheted animals.
Yet men after forty seemed to get more ruggedly attractive.
Silver foxes with high follower counts on social media and younger women eating out of their hands. It really wasn’t fair.
She let out a frustrated sound then locked all those feelings away.
She had a job to do, and that didn’t include moping around and wondering why she was eternally single with zero prospects.
Nope, it had everything to do with figuring out if Jayson and his friends were innocent or guilty of Donato Ferrante’s untimely and unexplained fall to his death.
A plan began to come together, and she turned on her music, walked into the kitchen and started pulling out ingredients.
Because if there was one universal truth about men, the way to their heart was through their stomach.
Or, in this case, she hoped the way to the truth was through Jayson’s stomach.
Everybody loved her droolworthy, gooey butter cookies, and she hoped Jayson would, too.
While mixing the batter, she came up with the perfect way to get as close as possible to the man. And, if all went smoothly, he’d be inviting her to move right into his place. Tonight.
Then, let the snooping commence.