Fall for Him by Andie Burke

Author:Andie Burke
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

Chapter 25

Dylan’s eye-rolling muscles were practically cramping from overuse. They’d been standing on the sidewalk outside Derek’s apartment in the sweltering heat for an hour with the cops and Carol Taylor. It hadn’t helped that Derek’s apartment did look ransacked, so initially the officers had been skeptical of Felicity’s story. The confusion was compounded by Carol’s continued insistence that “any woman willing to mark up her body like that probably was into all sorts of substances—you know,” meaning that Felicity’s intricate tattoo sleeves, visible since she’d tied the top part of her jumpsuit at her waist, were somehow symptomatic of a drug problem.

Reluctantly, Dylan tuned back in to the conversation.

“… fishy going on in the apartment. Mr. Chang is gay so why would he have some strange woman here dressed like a workman but with the body of a 1950s pinup girl?”

“Aw. Thanks so much.” Only Dylan’s younger sister could dramatically preen and bow while being insulted by a woman who looked like the physical embodiment of the state of Florida.

God, if only they could find a convenient sinkhole.

“You think this girl is doing actual construction work in that bright-red bra?” said Carol with a scoff.

“It’s a crop top underneath my jumpsuit.” She gestured to the sleeves tied around her waist. “It’s ninety degrees outside, and I was unloading the drywall—”

“Do I look like an idiot?” Carol glared.

No one seemed to want to touch that question with a ten-foot stick.

“You’re all sneaking around because you’re running some sort of sex and drugs ring. I hear that man leaving his house at all hours.” She gave Derek a sweep of stink eye. “I’m going to be living in a crack den soon, and you have to do something. Check behind that new so-called drywall. You’ll see. I refuse to believe that this four-foot tall, busty, carrottop bimbo is here to—”

“Five feet tall. Ish.” Felicity scowled. “You know carrottop is literally offensive to people with red hair, right? And crack den is pretty gross just generally.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Dylan immediately regretted vocalizing his bewildered exhale since it drew the unwanted attention of Carol. Dylan had, up until that point of the conversation, been leaning against a lamppost, minding his own business.

“And you, Mr. Gallagher—” She pointed at him. “I know you lied to me before about the dog because I saw that very animal in your vehicle last night. I’ve been watching out my window the last twenty-four hours. All of your going back and forth between apartments. You won’t get away with this.” Carol took this opportunity to point a neon-orange acrylic nail between Felicity and Dylan. “This one’s probably raking in millions in dirty pornography money with that unnecessary, hyperfast internet connection. I heard all sorts of pornographic noises coming from his apartment last night. I can go into more detail when I file a criminal report.”

Felicity’s face screwed up. “Please do not go into more detail.”

“Those matching tattoos could possibly be some sort of gang symbol.” She gestured between Dylan’s forearm and Felicity’s wrist.

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