Leigh had secrets. He got that. He didn’t need to know all of them, but he needed at least some level of trust if they were going to keep seeing each other.

Was that what he wanted?

A week ago, a relationship was the dead last thing on his mind. His breakup with Erika was too recent, and even though their split had been mutual, it had left a sour taste in his mouth. He didn’t want to start something new. Or at least, he hadn’t.

But from the second he saw Leigh in that crowded courthouse, he hadn’t been able to get his mind off her. The moment they’d met, Leigh had given him the brush-off. Maybe if she’d been a little less prickly and a little more cooperative, he would have simply asked her some questions and moved on. But her stubborn refusal to let her guard down made him determined to get past it. He’d broken through Saturday, but now the walls were back up again.

Or so it seemed. Who the hell knew what was really going on? Brandon prided himself on being good at reading people and situations, but that was on the job. He didn’t exactly have a stellar track record when it came to his personal life.

Brandon grabbed a Gatorade in the break room and went into the bullpen. Some people had cleared out already, but not Antonio. He and several other detectives huddled around a computer.

Antonio looked up. “Yo, we were just about to call you.”

Brandon walked over. “What’s up?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Brandon glanced at the other two, Sam Tate and Joe Harper. It was Tate’s desk, making Brandon wonder if something had come up with the law firm break-in.

He looked over Tate’s shoulder to see grainy black-and-white video footage of a gas station in a downtown area. Brandon didn’t recognize the buildings.

“What’s this?” Brandon asked.

“You know Detective Luzardo down in San Marcos?” Harper asked.

“No.”

“He’s in property crimes. Pulled the weekend shift.” Harper nodded at the screen. “He sent this along, thought we might want to take a look.”

Brandon watched the footage as someone in jeans, a baseball cap, and sunglasses crossed the parking lot and entered the store. Thin build, short hair, unisex clothes. Brandon leaned closer.

“Where is this?” Antonio asked.

“About forty miles south of here, at a Shell station west of the interstate,” Tate said. “Just watch.”

Brandon glanced at Antonio. His partner shrugged.

Two minutes later, the figure walked out, crossed the parking lot, and moved out of view.