Happy Release Day!
Nicole Lawson felt naked.
It wasn't the minidress or the strappy sandals.
It wasn't even the weird slit that left the entire side of her thigh on
display.
It was the Smith & Wesson .40 caliber
pistol-or absence of it-that was making her feel exposed. She was so accustomed
to those twenty-nine ounces riding on her hip, and the lack of weight was
making her antsy as hell.
She checked her phone, then flipped it over.
Nicole glanced around the restaurant, which was
wall-to-wall couples, of course. She'd never been in here before, and the
decorations grated on her nerves. They were going for elegant, she knew-this
was the Nautilus, after all-and it wasn't like the place was covered in pink
balloons. The bloodred rosebuds on every table looked nice, actually. Ditto for
the votive candles that emitted a soft glow. Really, it was the glitter that
was giving her hives, all those tiny gold hearts sprinkled across her table
like pixie dust. Just the sight was making her feel even stupider than she
already did in this ridiculous dress.
She checked her phone again.
For the first time ever she had a date on
Valentine's, and not just any date. Tonight was the date. She and David had
gone out three times already. The last time had ended with intense kissing in
his car, which definitely would have continued if he hadn't been called into
work. Nothing like being summoned to an autopsy to kill the mood.
He wanted to make it up to her, though. Those
were his exact words when he'd invited her to this expensive restaurant. And so
Nicole had squeezed herself into a low-cut black dress that gave her the
illusion of boobs, borrowed her sister's stilettos, and come here to meet him
for dinner.
"Are we still waiting?"
Her server was back again with that pitying look
that was almost as annoying as the glitter.
She smiled up at him. "We are."
"And would you like some wine, perhaps?
Maybe a cocktail?"
"I'm good." She nodded at her
half-finished water. "Thanks."
He walked off, leaving her to her silent phone.
No text, no voice message. She'd even checked her email, but zip.
Nicole looked around, sure people were staring
at her. God, the white-haired couple behind her was already paying their bill.
Her phone vibrated on the table, and she
snatched it up.
"Hello?"
"Where the hell are you?"
Not David. She closed her eyes.
"I'm out. Why?"
"Didn't you get the call?" Emmet asked
her, and she pictured him at the police station surrounded by the typical Saturday-night
chaos.
"I'm off tonight."
"Not anymore."
Her phone beeped with an incoming call, and she
checked the screen.
"Listen, that's Denise. I have to go."
Nicole got off with Emmet and took the call.
"Hey, what's up?"
"The chief asked me to reach you. He needs
you at a scene."
Damn it.
Nicole pushed her chair back and grabbed her
purse. "Does he know I'm off tonight?"
"Yep."
She unzipped her little black clutch and left a
ten on the table. They were going to have to bus it, even though she hadn't
ordered anything.
"Well, what's going on?"
"One sec," Denise said, and cut over
to another call. When things were busy, the Lost Beach PD receptionist doubled
as a dispatcher. She was also the chief's right hand, doing everything from
managing his calendar to deflecting reporters who called in from time to time.
The front of the restaurant was packed with
waiting couples. Nicole scanned the bar and the area around the hostess stand
but didn't see any tall, handsome doctors looking around for their date. It was
7:32. She'd officially been stood up.
"Nicole?"
"I'm here." She squeezed past the
people and pushed open the door. A cold gust hit her, and she stepped back.
"He needs you at Lighthouse Point right
away. And keep it off the radio."
"What's going on?" she asked again.
"I'm not sure."
"Well, what did he say?"
"He said, 'I need Lawson at Lighthouse
Point ASAP. Keep it off the radio.' That's all I have."
Nicole hunched her head down, wishing for her
leather jacket as she strode across the parking lot. It had filled in since
she'd arrived.
"What's your ETA?" Denise asked.
"I'll be there in five."
"Roger that."
Excerpted from Liar's Point by
Laura Griffin Copyright © 2024 by Laura Griffin. Excerpted by permission of
Berkley. All rights reserved.
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