Meat Load: A Hefty Hero Small Town Romantic Comedy (Capricorn Cove Book 11) by Evie Mitchell

Meat Load: A Hefty Hero Small Town Romantic Comedy (Capricorn Cove Book 11) by Evie Mitchell

Author:Evie Mitchell [Mitchell, Evie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thunder Thighs Publishing
Published: 2021-04-01T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter Five

Malik

"Hey, have you guys heard from Hannah?"

I looked up from my paperwork, eyebrows raising. "Sharp?"

"Yeah." Janeane, one of the station's dispatchers, nodded. "She normally does her cookie delivery on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Only, she hasn't been this week. Occasionally she might miss a day—but a whole week?" she shook her head. "Unusual."

"Shit," Paulette, one of our best detectives, pushed to a stand. "We should go do a welfare check."

The Sheriff poked his head out of his office. "Did I hear 'welfare check'? Who's the citizen?"

"Hannah Sharp," Janeane said before I could stop her. "She hasn't delivered any cookies this week."

"Shit, I thought she was on holiday. Didn't she say anything at last drop-off?"

"Nope. Said I'd see her Monday when she did drop off last Friday," Janeane supplied helpfully.

"Normally calls if she's sick too," Caleb added, rubbing his chin. "Malik, you know anything?"

My tongue felt too big for my mouth as I glanced around the group.

Only that I embarrassed her and despite my best efforts she never seems to be home when I stop in?

"I'll drive out now if you don't mind, Sheriff? My shift's nearly up anyway."

Tristan waved his hand in my direction. "Go. Call us once you know."

"Will do." I reached for my jacket, catch Caleb's eye as I shrugged it on. "What?"

"Nothing." He held up his hands, a knowing grin on his face. "Tell Hannah hi from me."

I rolled my eyes, flicking him the bird. "It's a welfare check, you dick."

"Hey." He held up his hands. "No judgment."

I waggled a finger in his direction. "And not a word to my sister."

His grin widened. "My fiancé is not someone I keep secrets from."

"Not a secret if you just forget to tell her."

The rat-bastard traitor had the gall to laugh. "Yeah, that's not gonna happen."

I caught my keys, tucking them into my back pocket. "You know, marrying my sister was meant to be a good thing. I can revoke my blessing at any time."

"But you wouldn't because you love me."

I twisted, calling over my shoulder as I exited the bullpen. "You wish!"

Hannah lived in a coastal bungalow just north of town. Buried in suburbia, it was a little blink and you'd miss it place, surrounded by old trees and creeper vines. I'd only ever been inside Hannah's house once, a few years ago when I'd returned a stack of plates and linen kitchen towels that she always used to wrap the cookies in. When I'd asked her why she'd explained that she didn't like using plastics because they weren't biodegradable.

I parked the cruiser on her curb, pausing for a moment to gaze at the house. Orderly but overlooked. It seemed to be a metaphor for the woman who lived inside. I'd heard her called mean for years but I'd never thought of her as such. Hannah didn't know how to be anything but direct—and I appreciated that aspect of her personality. Even in this small town, we dealt with our fair share of dirtbags (mostly tourists) who seemed to be trying to make lying an art form.



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