“Cutting all four means you can file a claim on your car insurance. That’s why exes only cut three.”
I shake my head. “As much as I love that you’re up to date on psycho-ex behaviors, that’s not true. Insurance claims can be filed no matter the number of tires damaged.”
“Really?” She sounds genuinely shocked. “Oh well. I should know better than to believe anything I read online.”
“You should,” I confirm.
“So, any ideas who did it?”
“Pauline said a man saw it from the street and called about it.”
“But you can’t see your car from the street,” Sylvie says, knowing exactly where I’ve been parking for years. She knows I let Pauline have the spot closer to the door because my office manager has bad knees.
“What man have you angered?”
“No one.”
“Someone,” she says. “And you can’t say no one. Half of every case you work involves someone who lost, and some people just hate attorneys in general.”
She’s absolutely right.
“And let me guess, you still haven’t gotten around to having cameras installed.”
“They’re expensive.”
“So are four brand new tires.”
“Touché,” I mutter.
“Do you need me to pick you up after work?”
“No. I had a guy from the mechanic shop come out and replace the tires.”
More silence on the line.
“You didn’t call Cerberus?”
“Why in the world would I do that?”
Even more silence.
“Because Legend has a thing for you. He’d drop what he was doing to run to your rescue.”
That last word reminds me of him doing exactly that three weeks ago, and it makes my skin crawl.
“I’m capable of handling things on my own,” I remind her.
“I know you are, but it’s not a bad thing to lean on people every once in a while.”
Sylvie is more aware than anyone why I don’t leave situations open where people think I owe them. It’s one of the reasons I offered to take Ethan to dinner yesterday. Granted, it wasn’t the only reason, but it was one of the reasons close to the top of the list.
“I think you—”
“Sylvie, I have to let you go. I have a client meeting,” I lie, ending the call before she can argue with me.
I’ll catch hell from her later, but I know she won’t call back until after the close of business because she knows how serious I am about my job.
I get literally nothing done the rest of the day, and head straight home after work, my eyes roaming all around to ensure someone isn’t following me.
I don’t know what bad karma I’ve built up for all these things to be happening to me lately, but I’ll be glad when things shift and get better.
Chapter 13
Legend
“We still don’t have everything we need yet, but we’ll move as soon as we get it,” Kincaid says, his eyes on his phone as he reads an email.
“And this is for Honduras?”
“Yes and no. Intel says that it started there, but by the time we get what we need, we’ll be heading to Costa Rica.”
I nod. His cell begins to ring.
“Hello?” he answers, holding a finger up to indicate that he needs me to stick around a moment longer. “I’m doing well, Matt. What’s going on?”
Kincaid’s face turns from emotionless to agitated very quickly.
“Robbins?”
At the mention of Faith’s last name, I’m fully invested in what the conversation is about.
“That’s ridiculous. She’s amazing… Any idea who? We’ll look into it… Does she know?... No, I haven’t personally spoken with her in months… I’ll reach out to her. Thanks for calling.”
I meet my boss’s eyes when he ends the call.
“What’s going on with Faith?”
“How well do you know her?”
I don’t respond immediately, and I feel guilty about that. Hopefully, I know her better than anyone else on the property, considering I had my tongue down her throat a few days ago, but I can’t claim I know her too well because although I left the ball in her court, she hasn’t reached out to me since that amazing kiss on her porch.
“I’ve seen her twice since she was drugged at Jake’s.”
His jaw clenches with the reminder. “You know that Farmington Whistleblower website?”
“The one where disgruntled people try to ruin other people’s lives because they have nothing to do?”
He nods. “I mean, sometimes they bring stuff to light that need to be exposed, but more often than not they’re way off base.”
“What does that website have to do with Faith Robbins?”
“Someone uploaded pictures of her being carried out of the bar. They’re trying to ruin her reputation in the community by saying she’s a drug addict and alcoholic.”
“I carried her out of that bar.”
“I know, and she’s none of the things they’re claiming, but that hasn’t stopped someone from posting about it without the true knowledge of what really happened.”
Anger draws my hands into fists. “Who called?”
“That was Matt Everett from the paper.”
I only thought I was as angry as I could get. “The paper is planning to run a story?”