Thirty-Four
Dea Vitae
Phoning an RCMP sergeant who last saw me drunk, crying, and combative and asking him to meet me in a public place because we can’t chat over the phone is probably the weirdest thing I will ever do in my life. Well, except for that time I went home with that hottie from the Rivoli Bar at the Ritz London and when we got to his flat, his wife was there waiting for us, dressed in leather and a ball gag. I had to pretend I had diarrhea so I could escape. That was definitely weirder.
But here we are, sitting in the quiet back booth of a coffee shop in downtown Vancouver. Though Rupert wanted me to get back to the island posthaste, I had to wait for Wes to be available, which meant I had to hang out for an extra day and drive Number Two even crazier.
Wes is wearing the s
