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know—she’d heard multiple theories. That she’d made it up. That she was protecting a criminal informant. That she saw some drug deal going down and against protocol went after the dealer without calling for back-up. No one believed that she’d tried but her radio wasn’t working ... because it apparently worked fine when the techs went over it.
    And she still didn’t know why someone had wanted her dead. She hadn’t been working on anything that should warrant a hit on her. She hadn’t been involved in any internal investigations. Other than routine disagreements, she hadn’t made any enemies on the force. So she’d thought.
    But there was a reason for the ambush, and now that she wasn’t a cop, the reason no longer existed because no one had tried to kill her in over three years.
    Maybe she was more interested in helping Jason because that gave her an in back into the department and what had happened to her. Hope, that she could have the answers she needed.
    It had taken an hour to get to Topanga and another ten minutes to maneuver through the winding streets up into the mountains to the private road off Valley View Drive. It was a secluded piece of property at the end of a private road. She parked her Jeep in front of the house.
    She didn’t see a car on the property, but if Jason were smart, he’d have hidden his vehicle. A tiny fear grew in her gut that he wasn’t here, that he’d used the opportunity she’d given him to get as far from L.A. as possible. In ten hours he could have been anywhere in the United States. Hell, he could have easily driven to the Mexican border.
    She got out of her Jeep and listened while watching the perimeter. She saw—and heard—nothing except the sounds of nature. The Topanga Canyon was one of the few places in L.A. that still felt like being in the middle of nowhere while also being in the middle of the city. She scrunched her nose. She didn’t like the silence. She much preferred the sounds of the ocean and seagulls to the sounds of song birds and rustling leaves.
    Scarlet walked around the property, cautious. She didn’t see or hear movement in the house. She stepped on the rickety stoop to the small, covered porch.
    The door opened and she immediately pulled her gun before she recognized Jason at the same time he said her name.
    “Shit, Jason, that’s a good way to get shot.”
    “I’m going to turn myself in,” he said.
    She stepped in through the door, then closed it behind her. Dark circles framed Jason’s eyes and he wore the same clothes she’d seen him in last night.
    “Okay,” she said. But she wasn’t sure that was the smart move, not if someone inside was gunning for him. They had to plan his surrender, get him a lawyer, and a guarantee of protection. “Why didn’t you respond to my messages?”
    “I was thinking. I didn’t know what to say. I don’t want you involved if I can avoid it.”
    “I’m already involved, Jason.” She paused. “What changed your mind?”
    “I can’t live like this. Running. A fugitive. Risking you and your career.”
    “Forget me. I want to know why you didn’t tell me you and Gina were lovers.”
    He shook his head. “I wasn’t hiding it. I told you we were more than just friends.”
    “Vague.”
    “Why is it important, anyway?”
    “It’s not important that you were involved. It’s important that you broke up. Kyle Richardson interviewed me last night. He says you were jealous that Gina passed her detective exam and was leaving you behind.”
    “No. It wasn’t like that!” He ran his hands through his hair and sat down on the couch covered by a dusty white sheet. “Fuck.”
    “Tell me about it.” She sat on the coffee table across from him. “The truth, Jason. All of it.”
    “People knew we were involved, but we weren’t public about it. We knew it could create problems because we were partners. Taking the detective exam was actually my idea—she wanted it, I knew she’d get it, and if