Noah was off the stool in a second flat. "No."
"As a cop, I know it's the right call." Jag held up a hand. "As your girlfriend’s brother, I fucking hate it.”
Ziggy stared down at the counter. "Are you saying I'm bait?"
"More like the icing on the cake." Jag reached across the island and laid a hand over hers. "Whoever’s doing this knows that to get to Noah, they come for his weak spot. And that’ll always be the person he loves the most.”
"Absolutely not." Noah planted both hands on his hips. His memory of Monica's battered face rose in his mind. About what his father had done to twelve women over fourteen years. "What if they do to Ziggy what they did to Monica? You know who’s behind this, Jag. You know exactly what that man spent fourteen years doing to women. And maybe he can’t touch her, but he can find someone who can.”
“You don’t need to tell me what’s at stake.” Jag tapped his left upper chest where his badge would normally be. "I know what I'm asking. She's my sister." He held Noah's gaze. "But we need to get ahead of this. We need to be the ones calling the shots. We need to draw whoever he's using out into the open. If this were purely my call, it's still the play I'd make."
"Let's do it," Ziggy said, her head slowly nodding up and down.
"No," Noah repeated. “I can’t put you in that kind of danger. I won’t.”
“I already am. Besides, there are other things to consider.” She lifted her head and swiped at her cheeks. "First, it would look strange if your producer wasn't standing next to you for a statement. Second, I'm your girlfriend, so I'm going to be there regardless." She held his gaze and didn't move. "And third, it's the right play, and you know it."
Noah stared at Ziggy. At the set of her jaw. The determination etched into the muscles in her face. The empathy and love in her eyes. And the complete absence of anything that resembled backing down.
He picked up his coffee. “Looks like I don’t have a choice in this matter.” He took a long sip. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."
14
Ziggy sat at her desk at the station, her leg rattling, her hand tapping her pen on the open file on her desk, and her mind still focused on the events of the weekend.
Not to mention the stares of everyone who walked by. She used to love the glass walls and the view over the bullpen—not anymore.
Saturday and Sunday had gone by in a blur of camera flashes, colleagues shoving microphones in Ziggy’s face, and hiding out with her family and Noah after the statement press conference.
Monica had given a heartfelt statement and apology. The poor woman was obviously shaken. And Noah—he’d been so compassionate—and he’d meant every word in his statement. But what Ziggy hadn’t been prepared for was how quickly the focus shifted to her and her new status as Noah’s arm candy, as one reporter called it.
Noah quickly corrected him, but it didn’t stop other outlets from using the term.
She checked the time—a little after three. A few more hours, and she and Noah would depart together, which they often did. But this time, it would be under the stares and whispers of people wanting the dirt.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Hugh Enders exit the elevator. He paused in the hallway, stuffed his hands in his pockets and glanced around. Not like he was lost or taking in the space. It was more arrogant—more of an announcement that he had arrived and people should take notice.
He’d been acting like that ever since he thought he’d landed the Matias Salazar interview.
Hugh shifted on his heel and strolled, hands still deep in the pockets of his dark gray slacks. With his pale blue shirt unbuttoned at the top and no tie, he held his chin high, like everyone else was supposed to look up to him.
She couldn’t believe she’d thought so highly of him just a few short months ago. Boy, had she read him wrong.
Hugh stopped at her door and rapped his knuckles on it. Her heart dropped to her toes before jumping right back to her chest, giving her an intense, unwanted adrenaline surge.
She waved him in, because what else was she going to do? She was just sitting there, doing pretty much nothing but staring at him.
“Hey Ziggy.” He smiled as he eased into the chair across from her desk. He lifted his leg and casually rested his ankle on his knee. Kind of like Troy did, but he didn’t have the same confidence and relaxed body language as her brother.
This screamed calculated.
“How are you doing?” He scrunched his face. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you and Noah, but it’s got to be tough to be dropped into the middle of this drama.” He shook his head. It wasn’t a dramatic shake. Just a quick left and right movement. But it was the lowering of his eyes that made it so freaking judgmental. “The timing couldn’t be worse. Aren’t you worried…” he glanced over his shoulder in the direction of Noah’s office. “…that this will be just another one of his flings.”
Ziggy set down her pen. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
Enders raised his hands as if he were surrendering. “I meant no disrespect. Noah’s a great guy. He’s just got a reputation.”
“Can I help you with something?” No way was Ziggy going to sit there and let this conversation continue down that rabbit hole.