Edge Of Reality (Arrow's Edge MC Book 5) by Freya Barker

Author:Freya Barker [Barker, Freya]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: FREYA BARKER
Published: 2021-11-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 17

MEL

“SERIOUSLY, MOM, I’M surprised the guy’s knuckles don’t drag on the floor.”

I stifle a snicker, because underneath all that indignation I detect a hint of fascination. I don’t blame Lindsey; I suffered the same mix of emotions around Paco for the longest time. These Arrow’s Edge boys have a way about them.

“Honey, he’s just keeping an eye on you.”

“An evil eye,” she huffs. “He hates me, which is fine,” she adds quickly. “Because I hate him too.”

Keep telling yourself that, daughter-dear.

“Other than that, anything else I need to know about?”

Lindsey’s been alone in the office—if you don’t count Wapi—most of the week. Sounds like she’s coming out of her skin a little as well. I know the feeling; I’m getting cabin-fevered myself. As much as I love this house, I miss being able to go to my office. I miss the freedom to just go where I want, even if I don’t really want to go anywhere. It’s really starting to piss me off our movements are being restricted by someone no one seems to be able to find.

We’ve heard nothing from Detective Yelinek since he left here with my file, and the last we heard from the Durango PD was Bill Evans’s phone call the day after that. One of the things I want to do today is call for updates, right after I take care of whatever Lindsey has for me.

“Jessica Huberfelt called again this morning,” she informs me.

“Great. Looking for her day in court,” I mumble.

“Looks like she’ll get it. I just heard from the court clerk there was an opening on Judge Micheals’ docket this coming Tuesday. Ten thirty.”

“Shit.”

Judge Micheals doesn’t like me much. Mainly because I blew off his advances about five years ago, right after his wife passed away. Micheals has to be nearing seventy. In my opinion, well beyond his best-before date, but mandatory retirement age in Colorado is seventy-five now, so he has a few more years to make my life miserable in family court.

He wouldn’t have been my pick, but beggars can’t be choosers and all things considered, we’re lucky we were able to get in so quickly.

“Okay, I’ll give Jessica a call. Can you pull the file and find a way to get it here? I want to review it over the weekend.”

“I will. Oh yeah, before I forget, I fielded two calls from someone insisting on speaking to you in person but wouldn’t leave a message.”

“Who is it?”

“Says he’s a former client but won’t give me a name.”

My antennae start vibrating.

“Do you have a number?”

“Comes up as ‘private number’ on call display.”

“If he calls again, can you record the call?”

“Already done, Momma,” she says smugly. “You didn’t raise a fool.”

I chuckle. No, I didn’t.

“Send me a copy of that conversation?”

It might really be a former client—I’ll know soon enough when I listen to the recording—but it could also be Forbes on a fishing expedition. In that case, I’ll forward it to the police. They may want to put a trace on the phone, or whatever it is they do.

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