Chapter 8
This was a disaster.
He’d wanted to take Kate home before the hooker and the john stumbled from the alley—not that he’d known who they were before he’d seen them. It wouldn’t have taken a detective to know what those two had been doing. He’d spotted the man’s wedding ring, too, and in a split second he’d summed him up as a scumbag fucker, picking up hookers and then going home to his loving wife, who’d have no idea what kind of lowlife she was married to. The picture was coming together as he hurried to the alleyway, his flashlight pulled from his jacket pocket, shining down on the ground where the couple pointed.
“Stay here,” he said to them, pointing with a sharp look that let them know they’d better listen. Then he spotted a set of legs and tan suit pants, one shoe on, the
