And sure enough, sitting around Shannon’s desk were her three roommates. Traci was still in her jeans and button-down for work. She even still had her holster on, with her gun in it. The only concession she’d made to being off duty was an untucked shirt.
Beside her sat Shannon, who was wearing yet another amazing dress. This one was knit in a bold shade of dark red and sported a deep V around the neckline.
Jennifer would have looked like an overripe tomato or strawberry in it. On Shannon, though, it was particularly flattering, showing off her trim figure and dancer’s legs.
Rounding out the group was Kimber. For once, though, she didn’t look like a famous New York fashion model. She had on glasses, no makeup, loose jeans, and a chambray shirt big enough for Dylan to wear.
They were talking quietly to each other and then stopped when Jennifer walked in at Dylan’s side.
“Hi, guys,” she said.
“Hi,” Shannon said. She got up and hurried over to give Jennifer a hug. “I’m so sorry about that note.”
She swallowed and gave them all a watery smile. “Me, too.”
Kimber shifted to face her. “We wanted to be here to support you. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not at all.” She spoke the truth, too. For so long, she’d been alone. Right after it happened, some of her close friends had been there for her, but it had been hard. They asked questions and got upset when Jennifer kept things from them.
Eventually, she’d drifted apart from them. They didn’t have a lot in common, since they were all going out and Jennifer could barely leave the house.
That’s when she’d started leaning on her parents. But soon, even their looks of pity or frustration that she wasn’t okay had created a wedge between them.
Ever since she’d moved in with Dylan, Jennifer had tried to keep the worst of her days to herself. She had Melissa, of course. But as helpful as Melissa was as a counselor, Jennifer didn’t consider her a friend.
Now though, she had all three of her roommates. They cared enough to want to be there for her. She shook her head to clear it. “Sorry, my mind drifted. I don’t mind you being here at all. It’s, uh, nice.”
Dylan sat down in one of the empty chairs in front of the desk and motioned for Jennifer to take the other one. “Let’s get this over with. Jen, Traci used gloves and opened it with a letter opener. The paper is folded, so you can open it in the ziplock bag.”
“Isn’t this a little bit overkill?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Better to be safe than sorry,” Traci said.
Jennifer took a calming breath and then pulled the ziplock bag toward her. She’d never wanted to do anything less . . . or more.
“I’m ready,” she whispered, more to herself than the others. Then, it was just like Traci had said. It was fairly simple to manipulate the paper so it was lying flat inside the plastic.
All she had to do was read it.
She decided to read it out loud. “We haven’t forgotten. It’s your fault that our lives were ruined. It’s time to pay.”
Right as she took a breath, Kimber said, “What is all this about? Are they really that whacked?”
“One of the men in prison got hurt last night,” Traci said.
Dylan looked at her sharply. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were off duty.”
“Still.”
“I would’ve called you tonight. Or the sergeant said he would. Wasn’t anything much to tell anyway. The guy got in a fight and got his jaw busted up. He’ll survive.”
Jennifer looked up at her brother. “There’s more. Are you done?”
“Crap. Yeah. Sorry.”
She held up the plastic again. “I know where you live. I know you’re putting your roommates in danger. I’ll make sure you pay.”
With shaking hands, Jennifer put it down. “That’s it.”
“Well, he gets points for drama,” Kimber said.
“And being a dimwit,” Traci added. “One of your helpless roommates carries a Glock.”
She looked up at Dylan. His jaw was twitching, but he didn’t look afraid. “What happens next?”
Traci smiled. “Well, this is just me, but I’m thinking this is a real threatening letter. We need to pick him up.”
Dylan’s eyes lit up. “I knew you were going to be perfect. Let’s go to the station.”
Traci was already up and trotting up the stairs. “Give me five and I’ll be ready.”
Jennifer was just about to do what she always did and warn Dylan to be careful, when she noticed that Dylan was looking at Shannon with concern.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Hmm? Oh, sure.”
He walked to her side. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. Honestly, if Traci or I had thought the first note was serious, we would’ve told you and taken precautionary measures.”
She nodded. “I . . . well, I feel so bad for you, Jennifer. And, I know it’s your job, but I’m worried about you, too, Dylan. And Traci.”
Right in front of all of them, Dylan wrapped Shannon in his arms and hugged her tight—letting all of them know exactly what he felt about her.
It was obvious that they were a couple now, and he wasn’t letting her go.
CHAPTER 35
“Part of the joy of dancing is conversation.
Trouble is, some men can’t talk and dance
at the same time.”
—Ginger Rogers
After much debate with herself and having about a hundred conversations with her therapist, her roommates, and her brother, Jennifer had finally gone on her date with Jack.
It was really too bad that it was likely going to be her last, but how much drama could one guy take? And who would even call lunch in her loft kitchen—with Traci on the premises in case she was needed—a real date?
The only consolation was that he had eaten every bite of the meal she’d prepared and had even looked a little disappointed that he’d only had room for seconds and not thirds.
The cook in her was beaming with pride. The feminine, girly part of her, however, was wishing that she’d gone to the casual sports bar he’d suggested and they were sitting around eating burgers and having a beer.
“Tell me again how you made that soup?”
“It wasn’t any big deal. Only green chicken chili.”