![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() She was early thirties, slim, attractive, with blonde hair that was always pulled back in a ponytail. Nora Balsamo was the lead detective on Peyton’s case. Perhaps I shouldn’t have challenged the powers that be with that question. I drew the electronic blinds and opened a text message from Reese canceling our lunch date. “Give me five minutes, and then she can come on back.” “Can you call R&D and tell them I’m going to need to reschedule?” This day was getting better by the fucking minute. I had an eleven o’clock meeting I was already running late for after my director of marketing had interrupted my morning to tell me what he thought of my new relationship. My secretary’s face was wary when she came into my office. “There’s a Detective Balsamo here to see you.” “You know the worst part of this? You were the first person who’d made me feel safe since I was a kid.” I began to turn around-wanting to get the hell out of there so I could disappear with some shred of my dignity intact-but then turned back. Instead, he took a full step back, almost as if he needed distance to keep himself from touching me. I saw a flash of something in his eyes, and for a half of a second, it looked like he was going to reach out to me. ![]()
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