Finally, the girl made enough progress down the line for Jesse to start setting out his own groceries. And that’s when he caught sight of the hardcover book at the top of the stand next to the clerk. His own face stared back at him from the book’s cover.

“Shit,” Jesse said under his breath.

The young woman ahead of him glanced over her shoulder again, this time with obvious curiosity, but Jesse just pulled his Dodgers cap lower over his forehead, not meeting her gaze.

Hopefully the short beard he’d acquired in the last month would provide enough camouflage—the Jesse Cruz on the book cover was clean-cut and well-dressed, leaning against a brick wall with crime scene tape strewn all over it, eyes hooded in a look the photographer had called “broody.” At the photo shoot Jesse had complained that cops would never put crime scene tape on a wall, but no one had listened to him.

Jesse finished unloading his meager groceries and waited, trying to keep his eyes off the row of books. He couldn’t help but steal quick glances, like a scab that you can’t stop yourself from picking at. There was the cringe-inducing title, Wunderkind: The Rookie Detective Who Caught Two of LA’s Most Notorious Killers, followed by his own name embossed in embarrassingly large letters. Beneath it, in a small, easy-to-overlook font, sat the name of the ghostwriter who’d done basically all of the work: A. P. Cox. Jesse flinched and looked away.

The young woman was finally done, and Jesse stepped forward, not looking at the clerk, a young Hispanic woman who was a foot shorter and fifty pounds heavier than Jesse. She was giving him the eyeball, but he couldn’t tell if it was because of the book cover, the scruffy look, or his pathetic groceries: Hungry-Man meals and beer. Wait, could it be the smell? Had he showered that morning? The night before? He couldn’t remember. Two days ago, his brother Noah had dragged him out of the apartment to the gym. Surely he’d showered after that . . . right?

His phone buzzed, startling him. Lately the only people who called were agents and editors, who stuck to business hours, or his family. But it was a little late for his parents, who went to bed early, and Noah had said he had a date tonight. Jesse mumbled an apology and dug the phone out of his pocket. The lawyer’s name was on the screen, so he sighed and answered, ignoring the young woman’s irritated look. “Working late, Esteban?”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” said the lawyer. His tone was just this side of annoyed. “But she has a couple of last-minute requests before we finalize the paperwork.”

The clerk in front of him pointed at the register, where the total glowed in front of him. Jesse nodded and pulled out cash. He’d learned the hard way that it was hard to stay anonymous if you used a credit card with your name on it. “I told you, Esteban, give her whatever she wants. I don’t care.”

“This is serious money, Jesse,” the lawyer insisted, but without any heat. This was an old argument, and he knew he wouldn’t win.

“And Ava earned it,” Jesse replied, holding out his free hand for the change. “I told you, fifty-fifty, plus she gets the car and the condo. Is she asking for more than that?”

“Jesse, some of that furniture is worth—”

“I don’t give a shit about the furniture,” Jesse snarled, and in front of him, the clerk shrunk back. He winced and mouthed an apology, but she shook her head, her eyes darting to the rent-a-cop at the store entrance. Jesse sighed and picked up his bags, shifting so he was holding the phone in place with his shoulder. “This conversation is over,” he said into the phone.

“Yeah, I can tell,” Esteban said shortly. He hung up.

Jesse stuffed the phone back in his pocket, his teeth clenched together in frustration. He turned back to apologize to the clerk, but now she was standing there with the book in her hands, giving Jesse a look that was right on the brink of “a-ha!” He hurried out the door instead.

Great. Another Vons he had to avoid now.

It was only a few blocks back to Jesse’s bunker-like apartment. The place was tiny and utilitarian, but it came with a parking spot and he liked the location: close to Echo Park, an easy drive away from his parents’ place. Jesse had leased the place for almost six years now, even paying rent on it throughout the whole thirteen months of his marriage. In retrospect, maybe some part of him had known his relationship with Ava wasn’t going to last. Why else would he have left himself a bolt-hole?

Maybe it would have lasted if you hadn’t left yourself a bolt-hole, said the voice in the back of his head, for the hundredth time. Jesse got the bags out of his trunk and sighed, suddenly too tired to take the stairs. He rode the ancient elevator up to his floor and began trudging down the shabby hallway on autopilot. As he turned the corner, his thoughts were already sinking back into the swirling tar pit of the last two months. Jesse fumbled all the bags into one hand so he could dig the keys out of his jeans pocket—

He smacked full-on into the small woman in front of him, her forehead nearly knocking into his nose. There was a growl from the floor, and in the confusion Jesse was halfway through an apology before he realized who he’d run into. “Scarlett?” he said incredulously. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey,” she said, rubbing her head and backing away from him. “Ow. Sorry. I was looking for you, but I couldn’t wait . . . I . . .” she trailed off, looking him over. The bargest was standing just beside her, wearing one of those service dog capes. Shadow’s tail swished when she saw Jesse, but she stayed where she was.

For a long moment, Jesse couldn’t make his mouth work. For the first time, he realized that he hadn’t actually thought he’d ever see Scarlett again. It had been too long, and so much had happened. But here she was. There was a suspicious-looking stain on her denim jacket, and her hair was slipping out of a loose bun at the back of her neck. A faint smell of smoke—possibly from pot—clung to her hair, though he’d never known her to smoke anything. Her bright-green eyes looked exhausted, and her expression was haunted—or maybe hunted. Even so, there was something new about her, something different. She held herself with confidence, and her shoulders were squared like she was ready for a fight. Not necessarily with him, just in general.

She was lovely.

For just a second, the old emotions resurrected themselves in Jesse’s numbed brain. He felt like he’d been knocked down, though he was still standing there with the bags, frozen like an idiot. Shadow whined, looking back and forth between them. Scarlett murmured something to her, and the bargest bounded forward to greet Jesse, her clubbed-off tail waving frantically.

He finally snapped out of the trance and bent down, dropping some of the bags so he could scratch at her fur. “Hey, Shadow,” he said, letting her give his face one quick swipe with her tongue. “I missed you too.” Jesse had been with Scarlett when she’d rescued the bargest, but he hadn’t seen either of them in years. He was pleased that Shadow remembered him.

The bargest darted back to her mistress’s side, but her tail still wagged for Jesse. “Listen, can we talk?” Scarlett asked, gesturing toward his apartment door.

“Um, yeah, I guess.” He winced, remembering the state of his place. “It’s kind of a mess.”

She shrugged. “I won’t tell Martha Stewart if you won’t.”

He unlocked the door, leading them both into the cramped living room. Shadow immediately darted past him, trotting off to check the apartment for threats.

“Wow.” Scarlett paused in the doorway for a moment, taking in the empty pizza boxes, beer bottles, and dirty clothes. “Just fully embracing the divorced guy cliché, aren’t you?”

He was so surprised that he laughed out loud. His family had been tiptoeing around that kind of comment for weeks, even Noah. Trust Scarlett to just come right out with it. “Something like that, I guess,” he replied. “I need to put this stuff away.”

She trailed him into the kitchenette, where he stacked the frozen dinners in the freezer. Out of the corner of his eye, Jesse could see Scarlett looking at the copies of his book stacked on the small table, not to mention all the mail and random junk. Shadow returned from her inspection and curled up under the table, giving Jesse a disappointed look. He wasn’t sure if it was the mess or the lack of enemies to kill, but he grabbed a couple of leftover hamburgers out of his fridge and tossed them to the bargest. Her tail wagged as she wolfed them down. All was forgiven.