Chapter 16

As soon as I clocked in at work on Wednesday, I had to stop my hands from shaking. I made painful conversation with the women who sat in my chair that day.

"How's your corgi?" I asked my ten o'clock. "How was your daughter's dance recital?" I asked my 1:00 p.m. I barely heard their answers, just kept them talking to fill the time. Ava was off that day, and I was alone with Lena, the manager. She was sitting in the back, like she usually did, working on the company's finances.

I had always assumed that she was keeping books or making purchases or doing something to help generate revenue for the business. Now it seemed that she might be involved in something illegal. She may have even had a hand in killing those four innocent women and getting who knew how many others hooked on a deadly substance. I had always liked the owner, Katrina, and my manager, Lena, and to discover that one of them or both could be involved in something sketchy broke my heart.

I kept drifting to the window to see if I could spot Jason or Ryan in an unmarked car. I didn't see anybody watching the salon, and I wondered if my tip had even been worth it. What if Jason had discovered something that would explain the mystery truck? What if I had jumped the gun and pointed the finger at an innocent woman? It was enough to make my head spin, and I had to force myself to focus or run the risk of messing up someone's hair.

At around three o'clock, Lena came out to find me. It was a slow day, so there were no customers at the moment. I was busy stocking the cabinets, arranging all the tools so that they would be easy to reach if someone new walked in the door.

"Lindsey, will you help me with the cash deposit?" the manager asked.

"I, um…" I looked around, searching for a valid excuse. I could say I had to mop the floor or clean the shampooing sinks. I could say that I had a three o'clock appointment and I had to get ready, but she would see through all of those in an instant. The truth was that I still wasn't sure that the "cash deposit" was legal. I didn't want to help with it. I didn't see anyone watching, but that didn't mean the police weren't there.

Lena read my uncertainty, seemed to consider it, and then cast it aside. "It'll just take a minute."

I followed unhappily, unable to think of anything to say that would help me avoid my fate. We went into the back room, the office that Katrina, Lena, and the assistant manager shared. There were four sacks of cash on the floor. Four sacks that looked big enough to hold small children. When I lifted one, it was heavy, and I had to use two hands. Lena grabbed another one, and we went out the back door into the alley behind the shop. A van was waiting, but it wasn't an armored cash van. When the bank got a delivery, there was usually an armed driver and a steel-plated van with the transportation company logo on it. This van was white and called up all manner of illegal activities. I tried to stay as far away from it as I could.

A guy came around and opened the back for us. He was tall and muscular, with the hint of a tattoo peeking out from his collar. I handed over my sack and went back in for the next one. Lena followed me as if nothing were out of the ordinary. We each grabbed another bag and met with the criminal in the alley. He closed the back door of the van and disappeared into the driver's seat, giving Lena neither a friendly salute nor any paperwork to sign. I was more convinced than I had ever been that something was fishy.

I looked around before going back inside. Was Jason out here watching? If he was, I couldn't see him. Lena passed me by, holding the door open as if the transaction had been the most natural one in the world. Then again, she did this every Wednesday, so maybe it was natural for her. One thing I knew for sure: there was no way we generated enough cash off little old ladies getting their hair done to fill four child-sized grain sacks.

I went back to the styling floor to find Daisy Potter waiting with her seven-year-old son. "Can you cut his hair?" she asked. "I promise he'll be good, and he won't squirm around."

"Of course," I said, grabbing our seating block from the corner. I placed it on the chair so that little Tommy Potter could climb up. As I cut his hair, my mind kept wandering back to the cash van.

I didn't care what excuse Lena and Katrina could come up with—there was no convincing me that what we had just done was legal. For starters, where was the paper trail? And that driver with the neck tattoo, where had he come from? I was furious with myself for having been so blind as to never question it before. I wanted to storm back into the office and demand an explanation, but I knew that would only blow Jason's case wide open. I had to wait until I got home that night to see if he had learned anything. If anyone was hurting people in my town, I wanted to help put a stop to it. But why did it have to be my boss?

The end of the day couldn't come fast enough. Lena left at five, and I was alone from five to six. When I was finally able to clean up and lock the door, my hands were shaking. I wasn't afraid but desperate to get home and unload all my suspicions. When I pulled up to the cabin, I exhaled a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. Jason was there. His truck was in the driveway, and that meant that we could have a long debriefing session.

When I walked in the door, I found him in the kitchen. He was dressed casually in jeans and a button-down shirt. A kitchen towel was tossed over one shoulder, making him look almost like a husband. I pushed that thought away, closing the door behind me.

"Hello," he said. "I made spaghetti."

"Great." I was starving. I had been panicky all day and ignored my hunger for most of the time.

He scooped up two plates of noodles, and we sat at the kitchen island. It was nice. Not once in my life had I ever come home to a hot dinner waiting for me. If we weren't supposed to be in a relationship, at least we could have this. At least we could do nice things for each other, like cook and talk.

"The cash truck came today," I said as soon as I had swallowed enough pasta to calm my stomach.

"I know." He nodded. "We were there."

"I didn't see you," I said.

"That's the point." He winked.

"What did you think of the van? And the driver?"

"Driver looks like he spent some time in prison," Jason speculated, "but we didn't get a hit off his face yet."

"You got a picture of him?" I was too excited to finish my spaghetti.

"We got pictures of the whole transaction." He pointed to my unfinished plate.

I picked up my fork again.

"Including pictures of you helping out." His words cut me deep, paralyzing the food on its way to my mouth.

I set the bite down. "I wasn't helping out. I couldn't think of a good excuse. The owner and the assistant manager weren't in today. Ava wasn't in. I was the only person there, and she asked me to help. I couldn't say ‘no, I think you're involved in something criminal.'"

"I understand," Jason said. "I'll make sure to put your cooperation in the case notes. I just wanted you to know so it doesn't come as a surprise."

I picked up my fork. "Let's talk about something else."

He finished his meal and stood up to put his plate in the sink.

"I'll do the dishes," I offered. "Since you cooked."

"It's fine." He shrugged. "There aren't that many."

I sighed, searching for a safe topic of conversation. "Tell me about Nashville."

He grabbed a beer from the fridge, one of the ones I had bought on my shopping trip. He held it out to me as if to ask if I wanted one. I shook my head. He unscrewed the cap and settled back down in his seat.

"Nashville," he began. "I only ever saw the worst side of it. I was in narcotics and vice for a while."

"Vice?" I asked. "Is that like prostitution?"

"And human trafficking. A lot of the women we saw weren't given a choice."

"That's horrible."

"Crazy thing is I didn't realize just how much it was affecting me until I came here," he said. "I saw Dillon go from eager to burnt-out in a matter of weeks. When his partner died, you could see Dillon lost all taste for the job."

"Dillon's partner died?" I asked quietly.

He nodded. "Shot on the job. Neil was his name. I knew him too, though not as well. When something like that happens, you start reevaluating the choices you've made. Neil left behind a wife and child."

"I'm sorry." I put my hand over his to comfort him but then yanked it away as if it had been burned. I wasn't supposed to fall for Jason, no matter how much his story tugged at my heart. Touching, any kind of touching, was off-limits. I couldn't stop my thoughts from wandering south, and I didn't want to trigger another lovemaking session. It would be best if I kept myself under tight control, nipping any amorous thoughts before they could blossom.

Living together was going to be hard. Coming home to dinner was nice, but the sight of Jason doing domestic chores had set off a yearning in my belly. I couldn't have him, not in that way. We had to keep our relationship friendly, maybe even professional. I finished my meal and took my plate to the sink. Despite his protests, I cleaned the dishes and set them on a wire rack to dry. If we were going to be roommates, I was going to pull my own weight. I went to bed early, deliberately leaving the beer untouched in the fridge.