She spun and headed for the kitchen. The apartment, while bare, wasn’t small. Just the portion I could see had to be over a thousand square feet. Mostly open, clearly renovated in the last decade if the polished, wide-planked wood floors, granite countertops, and stainless steel appliances were any indication. I thought of my small house about a half-mile away from Chains. It was new, post-Katrina, and sat up high, with a white, covered front porch, blue siding, and clean white trim. It was the first place I’d lived that had ever been my own. It was nothing compared to the thick molding and modern furniture in this place. But at least my house looked like it had some life to it.

Elle returned with two bottles of water. For some reason, I’d expected booze, but she’d surprised me once again. Her expression gave nothing away. She held out the bottle, and I took it. It was fancy—a glass cylinder that probably cost more than a pack of smokes or a lot of the liquor I’d drunk in my day.

I raised an eyebrow. “I can drink tap water.”

“Then help yourself. This is all I’m getting for you.”

She stood, arms crossed, her bottle clutched in one hand.

“What’s your deal with Chains, Elle?”

No response.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me.”

She shook her head. “You barely speak for a week, and now I can’t get you to stop.”

I took two steps toward her and set the bottle on the counter. “And you don’t stop chattering for a week, and now I can hardly get a word out of you.” Her eyes dropped to the ground, which just gave me another clue that whatever she was hiding, I wanted to know. My gut told me my curiosity was warranted, and listening to my gut had saved my ass more than once.

“Look at me.”

She didn’t.

“Elle, look at me,” I repeated. “I ain’t leaving until you spill.”

Her eyes darted up. “Why do you care?”

“Because I let it go for a week, and I can’t let it go any longer.”

She squeezed her lids shut for a beat and turned away from me to start pacing the room. It was another of her tells.

“Fine. You win. I’ll tell you if you really want to know.”

At my nod, she continued.

“Vanessa told me about the gun you found. The one that Con was looking for. That it came in on pawn and you identified it as the murder weapon.”

She’s looking for a gun? That was the last thing I’d expected to hear.

But Elle continued, laying my question to rest. “Well, I’m looking for something too. Something my mother gave away that belonged to me. I know it’s ridiculous and a long shot, but I thought maybe I’d hang out for a while at Chains and see if it ever came in.” She laughed, but there wasn’t a trace of humor in the sound. “I mean, it’ll probably never show up, but Chains has a reputation as being the place to sell expensive stuff—which this would be. Add on the fact that I needed a new job, and this one had the dual purpose of not only pissing off my mother and stepfather, but giving me a small chance of finding what I’m looking for.”

“What is it?”

Silence hung between us before she replied, “My daddy’s watch. An antique Patek Philippe, engraved with To T.S. with love on the back. It was a gift from my great-grandmother to my great-grandfather and was handed down through the family. It would’ve gone to a son if my dad had had one, but he didn’t; he just had me. It was the only thing of his my mother held on to after he died. She got rid of every other damn thing. Every time I asked about it, she put me off, telling me she didn’t have time to get it out of the safe deposit box … and then I found out last week she gave it to my stepbrother for his 25th birthday, and the dumb fuck sold it to buy an eight-ball of coke to celebrate.” Elle hugged her arms around her body. “I ripped him a new one, and the only thing he’d tell me was it was long gone. He doesn’t even remember which pawnshop he took it to because he was so fucked up at the time. So feel free to laugh at my ridiculous reason, but there it is.”

Her reason might seem ridiculous to her, but if I’d had a father who’d given a shit about me, I would’ve held on to everything of his. And knowing it was the only thing left and then losing it … her determination made sense. The part about pissing off her ma and stepdad also started to make sense.

“You’re unfired.”

Elle’s eyes snapped to mine. “Are you serious? You actually believe me?”

Her question struck me as strange. “Why wouldn’t I believe you?”

“Because it’s insane. A crazy long shot.”

“And Con bought the place because of a crazy long shot. Chains might as well have some voodoo magic sprinkled on its doorstep, because apparently it specializes in delivering on crazy long shots. Besides,” I paused, “if you’re there, I won’t have to waste my time worrying about Rix tracking you down or getting a visit from Hennessy saying something happened to you. This is just as much for my peace of mind as it is for you.”

“And it has nothing to do with the fact that if I stay you’re pretty sure I’m going to cave and agree to your proposition?”

A laugh broke free from my throat. “When it comes to you, I’m not counting on anything. You’re one curveball after another.”

Her lips twitched into a ghost of a smile. “Good. Maybe it’ll make you less cocky.”

It wouldn’t, but she had finally unwound, and I wasn’t about to get her all pissed off at me again. I studied her for a beat and glanced at the clock, deciding that retreating was the best choice at the moment. “I better get going. I’ll see you on Tuesday morning. If you see anything or hear anything that rubs you the wrong way—or if you catch sight of Rix—you call me. Don’t think twice, just call.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll see you Tuesday then.”

I reached out with both hands and wrapped them around her hips before pulling her close. “I’m not leaving without another taste of you,” I said, lowering my lips to hers.

Elle’s hands landed on my chest, pulling me closer, and there was no hesitation when her mouth met mine. I palmed her lush ass with one hand, buried the other in her hair, and kissed the ever-loving hell out of her—because who knew if it would be my last opportunity. She could easily decide over the weekend that what I’d put on the table wasn’t worth it, especially with the risk involved. It took everything I had to pull away.