“They are,” Geoffrey insisted gruffly, fiddling with his smartphone and then thrusting it at Brynne.

Her hands trembled as she took it.

The first image—Clay and Heather, half-dressed and kissing so deeply that they might have been trying to swallow each other—struck Brynne like the engine of a runaway freight train.

“Scroll,” Geoffrey ordered.

She did.

The pictures were graphic, and undeniably recent. The small, bullet-shaped tattoo on the back of Clay’s right shoulder, commemorating his near-death experience at the convenience store, was only a few weeks old.

“How did you get these?” Brynne asked bleakly, wondering, even as she spoke, why that mattered.

“Nanny cam,” Geoffrey replied.

And that was it, the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.

Brynne Bailey decided never to date another cop.

It was too damn risky.

CHAPTER TWO

BRYNNE SET THE cheeseburger down in front of Eli with a slight thunk, turned and walked away.

“Was it something I said?” Eli asked.

Cord studied him over the rim of his coffee cup, while J.P. quipped, “More likely, something you haven’t said,” he replied.

Eli cut the burger into four pieces and scowled. “Such as?”

“Such as, asking Brynne out,” Cord said reasonably, finished with his coffee now. “You know you want to.”

“Yeah,” J.P. agreed, with a grin and a nod. “Grow a pair, man. Ask the lady out for dinner. Take her to a movie. Live on the edge.”

“I ‘live on the edge’ practically every day of my life and you damn well know it,” Eli snapped, before taking a defiant bite of the best cheeseburger deluxe in three states. Brynne might be citified, but she could sure as hell cook.

Cord examined the check Brynne had left him earlier and reached for his wallet. “Give us a break, cowboy. This is Painted Pony Creek, Montana, not old Dodge City.”

Eli might have reminded his friend about some of the incidents he’d handled right there in the old hometown, but his mouth was full. Plus, he didn’t want to talk blood-and-guts when he was eating.

“Time you got serious about finding a good woman and settling down,” J.P. pontificated, still grinning.

Eli chewed, swallowed, took a gulp of water and shot back, “Says the man whose romantic life consists of swiping right on Tinder a little too often.”

J.P. frowned. For once in his life, he seemed stuck for an answer.

Cord laughed. “He’s got you there,” he told J.P.

Easy for him to be cocky. He was happily married.

J.P. got to his feet, reached for his own check. He still looked annoyed.

Truth hurts, Eli thought uncharitably.

“You guys are just going to leave me here?” Eli demanded, in a loud whisper.

Trooper emerged from his post under the table, stretched and yawned big.

“Yeah,” Cord replied. “We are.”