Chapter Eight

Now I know I made a big deal about talking to the cops, but I’m not so big on police stations. I mean, aside from the fact that police officers always make you want to admit to murders you didn’t even commit, and there are public urinators being booked everywhere, I’ve had my personal share of bad experiences with the LAPD. And very conveniently, I may or may not have chosen the exact moment we arrived at the station to let Jack in on that little secret.

“I cannot believe you,” Jack said, shaking his head. “Yesterday, you made the hugest thing out of going and talking to the police, we finally convinced your dad to let you skip school and now we’re standing outside the station and you’re telling me I have to do the talking?”

“What?” I said defensively. “Cops make me nervous and guns make me queasy. All I asked you to do was talk. That really shouldn’t be a problem since you can’t shut up around me!”

We were standing right outside the police station, eyes narrowed at each other in steely glares. Every time one of us would take a step, the glass automatic doors parted to allow us to enter, then closed again when we didn’t. Jack looked at me like he wanted to strangle me, to which I replied with a lot of hair flipping.

“They’re just cops! What’s your problem?”

“Jack, I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

“I highly doubt it was any worse than a speeding ticket. You’re the furthest thing from a badass,” Jack said, and I scowled. “You may as well just tell me.”

I did some haughty sighing before finally giving in. “Oh, alright!” I snapped. “When I was fifteen I had a little run-in with the police and I got into crazy amounts of trouble. Ever since then I’ve been kind of freaked, okay?”

“Wait,” Jack said, furrowing his eyebrows as if he were trying to make sense of da Vinci’s code. “Define run-in.”

“Well,” I began reluctantly, fiddling with the belt loops of my skinny jeans. “There was this stupid bet and my friend stole some alcohol from her dad’s bar and we ended up getting super drunk, even though it tasted gross.”

“And?”

I rolled my eyes. “And then she went kind of psycho hyper and we found this abandoned shopping cart and she got in it and we were rolling around on the streets. And then we hit a bump and the cart fell over and she went rolling out, and I freaked out and we didn’t realize there was an LAPD car right there, and then they took us to the station because we were super drunk and they called our parents and my dad flipped.”

I sucked in a huge amount of air, allowing my lungs to recompose themselves after the mini story-time session they had just endured. Jack looked at me as if contemplating whether or not the story was ridiculous enough to be true, opening his mouth and then closing it again.

“Um . . .”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “I was grounded for, like, a year after that.”

Jack looked at me curiously and said, “Who was the friend? Aria? I bet it was Aria.”

“I really can’t say.”

Jack smiled excitedly, as if I were giving him the biggest Hollywood scoop of the year. “It was someone famous, wasn’t it?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny if—”

“Whose kid was it?”

I shook my head and said, “I really can’t say.”

And I couldn’t. There was a contract and everything.

Jack looked at me suspiciously but he was smiling a little. “I’ll get it out of you eventually.”

Yeah, good luck with that, buddy.

“Alright, fine. I’ll do the talking,” Jack told me, giving a defeated sigh. “But can we actually go in now? I’d like to still be in my twenties by the time we finish.”

“You really should be nicer to me. I can have you thrown out of the house any time I want.”

“Actually,” Jack replied, “I’m pretty sure your dad likes me better than he likes you. So . . .”

“Excuse me? My dad doesn’t like you better than he likes me!”

“It’s okay, Gia,” Jack said, in the most condescending voice imaginable. “There’s no need to deny it. I know you have strong feelings for me.”

“Yeah, hatred.”

“But sadly, you’re not my type.”

Jack moved to the right a little, causing the automatic doors to open once more. The people inside were probably getting super annoyed, but I stood rooted to the spot.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“What?”

Shut up, Gia. Shut up!

“I’m not your type? What does that mean?”

Jack’s smug smile didn’t falter once. “Let’s go talk to some cops,” was all he said.

Fine. As if I cared what Jack’s type was. I didn’t need him; I had Brendan. I was his type. Please, I was everyone’s type. Oh gosh, maybe he didn’t mean specifically me. Maybe he meant women in general weren’t his type. No, probably not. He wasn’t giving off any of those vibes.

Awkwardness still hanging in the air, we walked through the glass doors. Inside the police station was far less chaotic than the cogs turning in my mind. In fact, the police station looked like the entrance to any corporate building, complete with a receptionist and waiting chairs near the front door. There, closed rooms running along the right of the station were pretty daunting, but I was still far more relaxed than my last run in with LAPD, three years ago. The left side of the building had an elevator and a set of stairs, leading to an upstairs level. There were police officers everywhere, and some very tired, run-down looking people sitting on the chairs, half asleep by the looks of it.

I glanced at Jack, who looked completely at ease, and took a deep breath. Alright, so it wasn’t as terrifying as I remembered it to be. I didn’t need Jack to fight my battles. I was Gia Winters, fabulous and proud. Sticking my chin out, I stalked up to the front desk just as the thirty-something receptionist replaced the phone on the receiver.

“Excuse me,” I began, flipping my hair behind my shoulder. “I have a stalker.”

Jack came up next to me with a light sigh and mumbled something I couldn’t quite make out. It was probably something to do with needing therapy.

The receptionist looked at Jack skeptically and then turned to me. “Is . . . that him?”

I gave Jack a glance and shrugged. “No, but feel free to arrest him anyway.”

“Uh,” Jack cut in quickly, shooting me a glower. “We’d like to speak to an officer please.”

The lady looked at Jack and then back at me, eyeing me up and down with disapproval. Clearly she wasn’t big on jokes. I looked away awkwardly, glancing at the officer behind Jack with his back to me, leaning on the front desk filling out what I guessed was a police report.

“I’m sorry, Miss . . .?” The receptionist asked, obviously unaware of who I was. I snapped my attention back.

“Miss Winters,” I finished for her. “Daughter of Harry Winters.”

Jack glanced at me and suppressed a smile. No harm in throwing in the family name. What use was it going to come to otherwise?

“Miss Winters,” she repeated, clearly unfazed by my father’s fame. “You say you’re being stalked?”

“Yes.”

“We get a lot of people claiming they’re being stalked, Miss Winters, and most of the time there’s nothing we can do about it because there aren’t actually any laws being broken. Are you sure the behavior of this person can actually be classified as stalking? Could you describe what’s been happening?”

I gave her my most unimpressed look and sighed impatiently. “You know,” I said. “That’s a really stupid question. That’s like asking someone with a gaping bullet wound if they actually got shot. I mean, of course they got shot! They didn’t poke a hole through their body for fun!”

The receptionist raised her eyebrows and said, “Milo?”

I gave her a frustrated look, glancing at Jack who was as usual, expressionless. Milo? Like Milo chocolate milk? “Thanks,” I replied. “But I’m really not thirsty. Besides, I don’t see how chocolate milk is going to solve my problems.”

“What if chocolate milk was a police officer?” said a voice to my right.

“Excuse me?” I spun around to face the police officer who had his back to me before.

Okay, I’ll be the first to admit it. Maybe I had been a tiny bit in denial about my obviously raging attraction toward Jack. But Mystery Police Officer standing a few feet away was freaking beautiful, and I was ready to shout it from the rooftops. There was no chocolate involved, but he was definitely hot.

“Milo Fells.” He introduced himself, his smile revealing a set of perfect dimples.

Jack introduced himself and shook Officer Fells’s hand. When he extended it to me, I clasped my hands together and let out a nervous laugh. There was no way I was going to touch him. I would never have let go, and then he would have arrested me.

“So you’re being stalked?” he asked, lowering his hand awkwardly.

“Yes, yeah,” I said softly, proud that I could form even one word.

The receptionist rolled her eyes and answered the phone that had been ringing for the past minute. Milo moved away from the desk a little to escape the noise, and Jack and I following close behind. As we walked to one side, I took the quick opportunity to evaluate what we were dealing with.

Milo Fells looked to be in his early twenties. He was fairly tall; about the same height as Jack. He was, of course, dressed head to toe in his uniform. There was no gun holstered to his hip, but my heart was still racing. His hair was dark brown and, like Jack’s, a little messy. It was somewhere between just-got-out-of-bed and I-should-probably-comb-this-someday. His eyes were dark brown and soft and his teeth were perfect. If Jack had ever decided to transfer his perfection into a brunette form, Milo Fells would be the result.

“So do you want to tell me a little more about this?” he asked, breaking into my thoughts.

“Oh, you know!” I exclaimed, waving my hand as if to tell him that it really wasn’t a big deal. “Some random guy has been freaking me out. Harassing me a little. It happens!”

“I’m Gia’s bodyguard,” Jack intervened, and I gave a sigh of relief. Screw it; he could do all the talking he wanted. “And last week she received a threatening text message from an unknown number, from a person who calls himself Dr. D. Neither of us, nor anyone she knows, has ever heard of anyone by that alias. There have also been a number of phone of calls, but they’re always anonymous.”

Milo nodded and said, “What did the text messages say?”

“That they were ‘watching’ Gia, and that they were close by.”

“And did they send you any other messages?” Milo asked me, his eyes burning right through mine.

I gave another nervous laugh and patted Jack encouragingly on the back, like he had just scored a goal in a soccer match.

“Oh that’s a good story, you tell it Jack.”

Jack looked like he wanted to half laugh and half yell at me, but continued to tell Officer Fells about Brendan’s food poisoning, the Dumpling Hospital, all the creepy phone calls and last night’s text message. I watched Milo closely, examining every nod and shift from one leg to another. How was it possible that in eighteen years I had never come across someone who made my heart want to explode, who wasn’t one of the Hemsworth brothers, and in just over a week I had come across two!

“Miss Winters?”

“Yeah!” I snapped out of my lust session and focused my eyes on Milo, who had clearly said something that I had missed. “Gia. It’s just Gia.”

“Gia,” he repeated with a small nod. “I just asked for the photograph and the nametag from the restaurant.”

“Oh, right.”

I pulled the photo and the tag out from my bag, handing it to Officer Fells. I practically thrust it at him like I hated him, which was really not helping my already faltering reputation with this guy. He examined the picture for a few seconds and then looked at the nametag.

“And can you show me the photo he sent you last night?” he asked.

My eyes widened as they flickered toward Jack, who was watching me questioningly. The picture Dr. D had sent me had been pretty bad quality, but you could still see me in my ridiculous disguise! I had kind of been hoping no one would ever have to see me in that homie get-up, and I was practically handing Milo that opportunity on a gold-plated iPhone. Reluctantly pulling the photo up on the screen, I handed my phone over to Milo. I watched him in anticipation as he looked at the picture, the corners of his lips twitching into a small smile.

“This is you in the picture?” he clarified, looking up at me.

“It was his idea,” I replied quickly, pointing at Jack.

“Do you think we have a case?” Jack asked.

“Well I’m actually just a cadet,” Milo said. “But if you wait here for a second I can get someone who’ll be able to better help you.”

He handed my phone back to me and I clutched it to my chest as if he had handed me a love letter. He walked behind us toward an older man in a suit, his police badge holstered on his belt. He motioned toward us and the two began talking.

“Hey, Gia?” Jack said.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think you could maybe not make a fool of yourself for like two minutes?”

I turned to Jack with the most offended look I could muster. “How dare you? I’m not doing anything!”

“What’s wrong with you?” Jack asked. “You sound like you’re mentally challenged.”

“Uh, that is extremely insensitive, and I do not appreciate it.”

“Oh you’re right, sorry,” Jack said, looking completely unapologetic. “You would give mentally challenged people a bad name.”

I decided to ignore Jack’s little remark and instead gaze longingly at Milo, who was still immersed in his conversation with the older man.

“He’s so amazing, Jack,” I sighed.

Jack followed my gaze. “Who?”

“The receptionist. Who do you think? Officer Fells of course!”

“He’s technically not an officer. He’s just a cadet, so it doesn’t count.”

“Yes it does!” I looked at Jack self-consciously. “I can’t believe he saw me in that gangster outfit. I could literally die right now! Am I really making a fool of myself?”

“Well it could be worse,” Jack told me with a shrug. “I mean, your British accent hasn’t come out yet.”

Oh crapola. I had forgotten all about the accent! Great, it was bound to slip out now that it was in my conscious mind, which I’m about ninety-seven percent sure is an actual psychological theory. Something to do with some guy called Freed, or Fraud or something. Freud! That’s it. I had seen something about it on a boring as hell documentary that ran over time while I was waiting for True Blood to start.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to push the accent back into the darkest corners of my mind, as Milo and the man in the suit had walked back toward us, looking all official and business-like.

“Gia, Jack, this is Detective George Reynolds,” Milo said. “I’ve just filled him in on your case, and he’ll be taking the lead on this.”

“Nice to meet you two kids, even if it is under unfortunate circumstances. I’m a big fan of your father’s work, Miss Winters,” Detective Reynolds said, shaking our hands. I watched his perfectly shaped moustache move as he spoke, giving him a small smile. “Milo here has gotten me up to speed and I definitely think there’s a case here.”

I turned my head toward the receptionist who was clearly pretending like she wasn’t listening. I raised an eyebrow and slipped her a sly smile as if to say told you so. Sure, there was a big chance they were only taking me seriously because of my last name and not based on the evidence, but you’ve got to choose your battles.

“Unfortunately,” Detective Reynolds continued with a frown. “The photograph that you swiped from the Dumpling Hospital gives us a good place to start, but we can’t rely too heavily on it due to the method it was obtained.”

I gave him a sheepish smile and looked at the floor. Good one, Gia. I had finally managed to find enough evidence to start a case and it couldn’t even be used because it was done through trespassing and stealing.

“Can you send someone undercover, or get a search warrant?” Jack asked, and I nodded in agreement with the ideas.

“We’ll most likely send someone undercover. Do a little research,” Detective Reynolds told us.

“We should be able to get a warrant,” Milo added. “But this Dr. D person obviously knows you’ve been in his restaurant, so he’s had enough time to hide anything incriminating.”

“Exactly,” Detective Reynolds said with a nod.

Needless to say, I was extremely impressed. I mean, he was the definition of perfection. Not only was he ridiculously hot, he was smart too. Logic was a necessary part of life. Therefore, Milo was a necessary part of my life. It was just basic reasoning.

Detective Reynolds looked down at this phone with a groan. “Damn it! Carl’s been booked for indecent exposure again! I swear, if he weren’t my brother-in-law . . .” Milo offered him a sympathetic smile. “I’ll give it to Davis. He’s been slacking lately.” Detective Reynolds nodded at Jack and I. “Let me know if you receive any more texts or calls.”

“We will, sir. Thank you,” Jack replied.

“We’ll get our best guys on this, Miss Winters, I assure you,” Detective Reynolds said, making me feel pretty good about dropping my surname into the conversation before. “I’ll personally be handling the case, and Cadet Fells will be assisting me. This will be a great training experience for him. I do hope that’s not a problem.”

I looked at Milo, who was watching me with zero expression on his face.

“Right!” I exclaimed. “No problems here! Don’t have any problems in my life. Except, of course, the stalker . . .” I trailed off as Jack coughed awkwardly beside me.

Detective Reynolds blinked at me for a few seconds. “Milo will give you our contact details,” he finally said, nodding at Milo before finally walking away, leaving Jack, Milo and I alone once more. Milo asked the receptionist for a pen and wrote down two phone numbers on a post-it note, handing it to me after he was done.

“The second number is mine,” he told me, and I smiled. “Just call us if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” I barely managed to squeak out.

Officer Fells gave me a smile that was kind of making me think he was a tad out of my league, so I focused on breathing like a normal person. At least I was wearing a push up bra under my Dolce corset top. That’s got to count for something, right? There was silence for a few seconds and I looked at my boots, trying desperately to avoid eye contact with Milo.

“Oh!” Jack said finally, looking at his phone in surprise. “I’m sorry, I have to take this call,” he told me, holding up the blank screen to show me.

I grabbed onto Jack’s arm and dug my nails into him as hard as I could. Jack’s phone hadn’t even let out as little as a buzz; there was no way someone was calling him. I knew exactly what he was doing and I wasn’t going to let him leave me there with Milo just so he could watch me act like an idiot.

“Jack,” I said through a gritted smile. “Your phone’s not even ringing.”

“I know.” Jack smiled at me innocently and put the phone to his ear. “Hello? Yeah I’m here.”

I watched him walk off in despair. I was going to murder him when I was done ruining my chances with the amazing guy in front of me.

“So . . .” I said, awkwardly rocking back on my heels. “Top of the morning, eh?”

Oh lordy. It was going to be a long road downhill from that.

“Yeah, the weather’s holding up,” Milo said, thankfully choosing to ignore the initial signs of my anxiety coping mechanism.

“Busy day so far, Officer? I mean cadet . . . sir?”

What the heck was I meant to call him? Future husband?

“I’m technically not an officer yet, but I’m getting there!” he replied with a friendly laugh. “I’m almost done with my training. I’ve got the uniform, just not the title.”

I pointed at his uniform and said, “Well you look really hot in it.” I slapped a hand over my mouth and cringed.

Milo smiled, widening his eyes. “Uh . . .” he began, clearly trying to figure out how to respond.

“No! I didn’t mean it like that! I mean, do you ever get hot in that uniform? Okay, that sounds bad too. I just mean, it’s pretty warm outside, shouldn’t you be wearing a t-shirt? You don’t have to wear a t-shirt, there’s no law saying you have to. Of course you’d know; you’re a police officer. Almost. I’m just saying you can just wear something hotter. I mean warmer!”

From the corner of my eye I saw Jack standing at a slight distance, his phone still pressed to his ear, laughing as silently as he possibly could. In fact, he looked absolutely hysterical, and I can’t even blame him. If I hadn’t been mentally bashing my head against a wall, I’d probably have been laughing at me too.

“It’s not too bad,” he replied, watching me with a curious smile. Oh great, he was probably trying to figure out which mental disorder I had. “You should try wearing a bullet-proof vest. That thing suffocates you!”

“Yeah,” I said, with unnecessary amounts of enthusiasm. “Getting shot at has got to suck, right?”

“I’ve been lucky on that front so far,” Milo admitted, his dimples coming into full view. “But yeah, I’ve heard it sucks.”

Yeah well, it can’t be any worse than having this conversation. Luckily, Jack seemed to have given up on his phone call charade and was walking back toward us.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said. “But we should probably be heading off now.”

“Of course,” Milo said. “Just let us know if you get any other texts or calls. We’ll see what we can do about the Dumpling Hospital.”

“Thanks Officer . . . um . . .” I said, grabbing onto Jack’s arm and heading for the door. I could not wait to get out of there and stop embarrassing myself.

“Just Milo,” he replied, and I momentarily stopped making a mad dash for the exit. “Like the chocolate milk, remember?”

“Right,” I said, giving a nervous laugh. “Well, see you ‘round!”

I had Jack’s wrist in a death grip as I led him out of the police station, and didn’t let go until we were far enough from the building to start breathing normally again.

“Okay, are you going to explain what happened there or should I just go ahead and guess?”

“Oh my gosh!” I groaned, slapping a hand across my eyes in embarrassment. “I totally blew that!”

“Princess, it was like watching a lamb waiting to get slaughtered.” Evidently Jack had decided his new nickname was going to stick around.

“I cannot believe how crazy I sounded!” I exclaimed, replaying the conversation in my head.

“Well it doesn’t matter,” Jack said. “You’ve got Brendan, remember? Your one and only true love?”

I lowered my hand and looked at Jack. Yep, just as I suspected. A smug and sarcastic look was planted firmly on his freaking perfect face.

“Of course,” I said, composing myself. “Brendan and I are great together! Whatever. I don’t care about Milo.”

“Your denial becomes more amusing every day.”

Okay, obviously he was totally wrong. I wasn’t in denial! Sure, Milo was so dreamy it made me want to cry a little, but I already had a gorgeous boyfriend. I mean, Brendan was a fine gentleman. Any lady would be lucky to have him as a potential suitor. Why am I talking like Jane Austen? Oh whatever, I give up in life.

“You think they’ll find anything in the restaurant?” I asked Jack.

“I doubt it,” he replied, shaking his head. “That place is probably cleaner than a hospital right now.” He smiled proudly. “Did you get it?”

“Dear God.”

“See, that was a joke. Because the place is modeled after a hospital!”

With the amount of eye rolling I was doing, I was going to give myself a brain aneurysm.