Free Cop a Feel (Handcuffs and Happily Ever Afters) by Robyn Peterman

wanted him to like me.
    “Candy, if I could, I would. I can’t blow cover. If anyone ought to understand this, it should be you.” He sounded defeated and I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
    Goddammit, I did understand, but rational thought wasn’t part of my repertoire at the moment. This was personal and I wasn’t very good at personal. “If you’ll blow cover by telling me how you know about me, then I have to assume I’m a job. If I’m an assignment, you’ll do anything to keep me in your sights. I’d do the same. So again, good luck with tracking me. I’ll make it very difficult for you. You might be good, but I’m better.”
    My heart painfully lurched as I snapped the Go-Phone shut, dropped it out of my car window, got out, and crunched it under my boot. What should have been a satisfying move made me feel like I’d just ruined my life. I barely knew this guy, except in a biblical sense; why in the hell was I so devastated?
    “Ewwww,” Rena said, examining the carnage that used to be my phone. “Guess that didn’t go so well.”
    “No,” I whispered, trying to hold back the avalanche of tears that threatened to fall.
    “I’m really sorry. That was my fault. I thought I was helping.” She leaned in and wrapped her arms around me.
    My body relaxed against hers. “No, it’s okay. It was actually good, I think. Part of me thought he was still a possibility . . . he’s not.” The tears finally flowed.
    “I could have him killed,” Rena volunteered. I grimaced at the irony. I was the type of person who was hired to do just that kind of thing.
    “Thanks”—I grinned through my tears—“but no thanks.”
    “Do you want my opinion?” she asked as she rubbed my back.
    “No, but I don’t suppose that matters.” I pulled back and waited for something obscene or profound.
    “You’re right.” She giggled and then turned serious. “As much as you want to pretend he’s not a possibility, you still think he is one. And so does he.”
    I contemplated what she’d said. I wanted to deny it, but what was the use? She was right and I was an idiot. If he had told me what I wanted to know, I would have lost respect for him. His dedication to his job was something I understood. I honored mine the same way. Fuck, I was living such a double standard. I wouldn’t have told him anything either. My behavior was stupid and immature, but I was stuck. I didn’t know what else to do. Did my self-preservation instinct outweigh my ability to be human?
    “I bought more chips,” she said, and handed me a huge bag. “Let’s go interview an over botoxed skank. I promise it will make you feel better.”
    “You think?”
    “I know.”

Chapter 7
    “W ait.” I grabbed Rena’s arm and yanked her to a stop as we approached the jail where the infamous Evangeline was incarcerated. “Tell me why you think this is a waste of time.”
    “Did you read the threatening notes Shoshanna got?” she asked.
    “I did.”
    “Do you know Evangeline’s background in the literary world?”
    “I do.”
    “Then trust me when I tell you she couldn’t have written those notes. The grammar was correct, there was punctuation included, and even though they had a fanatical religious undertone, they actually made sense,” Rena replied.
    “She’s that stupid?” How was that possible?
    “Yep. Although, I suppose someone else here could have written them for her.”
    “No, they weren’t sent from the jail. They came from Saint Paul. It would have to be someone working with her on the outside.” I removed the folder from my bag and glanced over the photocopies of the notes and the envelopes. The notes had been typed and were free of all fingerprint evidence. Whoever was doing this was well-versed in law enforcement tracking methods. Not a trace to lead to the perp.
    “Holy hell,” Rena hissed. “No one would work with her on the outside. She has no friends, and her only acquaintances are either serving time or were