And of course, he had his pet project, too, if that was even the right term.
He’d made several contacts at the Reno PD, who he worked with on a regular basis, and he was meeting one of them now, an officer named Aria Dixon.
The hostess smiled as he entered the small homey-feeling restaurant, but before he could let her know he was meeting someone, he saw Aria stand and wave at him from a table near the back. He raised his hand, letting Aria know he saw her, and then nodded to the hostess, who’d watched the exchange.
“Have a nice meal, sir,” the hostess said.
“Thanks.”
“Hey,” Aria said when he’d made it to the table, standing and giving him a quick hug. “It’s great to see you.”
“You too.” He took off the light coat he was wearing, hanging it on the back of the restaurant chair. “How are you?” he asked when he’d taken a seat.
Aria shrugged, her honey-blonde hair brushing her shoulders. He was more used to seeing her with her hair up and in a uniform, and it was always a little strange to see her as a civilian. Aria was about his age, with deep-green eyes and a smattering of freckles across her nose. She looked more like a pretty midwestern farm girl than a hardened cop. “You know, living the dream, as always.”
He let out a chuckle as Aria shot him a smile. He could tell by the way she looked at him sometimes that she hoped to revisit the short affair they’d had about a year ago. It’d started when they’d gone out for drinks as a group and he’d ended up back at her place. They’d hooked up a handful of times, but it’d always been casual, and eventually he’d suggested they stop because he didn’t want to further jeopardize their working relationship, and regardless, he wasn’t in a place to focus on a romance. It wasn’t that he didn’t find her attractive and interesting. But he was busy building his career. She’d seemed to take it well, but he’d also noticed the quick flash of hurt in her eyes and regretted that he’d crossed that line in the first place and created tension with someone he valued as a work associate.
Because he was at a peaceful place. It’d taken a long time. Years. But he was good. He was damn good. He only woke from nightmares very occasionally. He could think about what had happened to him without breaking out in a cold sweat. He still experienced emotions relating to his victimhood, of course, but he was okay with that. He figured that should be the case. What had happened had altered him. How could it be any different? What he was finding, though, the more time passed, was that not all the change that had occurred was negative.
It had taken seven long years of healing, of on-and-off therapy, and of following the path that felt right inside his gut, to arrive at the place he was at. To risk that? In the slightest way? Well, Evan supposed he’d know when and if something, or someone, came along that made the risk worthwhile.
Aria had taken a sip of water and now set it down. “Thanks for meeting me here. I feel like I haven’t had a day off in weeks. There’s not a lick of food in my house.”
“Still working the task force?”
“Yeah. Gang activity has been off the charts lately. A four-year-old boy was shot in a drive-by on Saturday.”
He grimaced. “How is he?”
“It’s touch and go right now. Say a prayer if it’s your thing.”
He nodded. It wasn’t necessarily his “thing” on any regular basis, but he wasn’t averse to reaching out to God on behalf of a four-year-old little boy who’d been shot by some piece of shit looking to prove his allegiance to a group of criminals.
Aria had been assigned to the gang unit a month or so before. It was an issue that was becoming a bigger and bigger problem in Reno. And, of course, with gangs came more drugs and therefore more crime, not only committed by the gang members but by the citizens who ended up hooked on something that required money to keep up. And there was always the more serious issue of human trafficking.
The waitress approached and took their drink order, a glass of wine for Aria and a beer for him. It was technically off-hours after all. “So it sounded like you might have something for me,” he said.
Aria nodded. “Maybe. I’m not sure. I figured I’d let you decide.” She reached into her purse beside her chair and handed him a folder. Evan laid it on the table and flicked it open, his brow creasing as he glanced over the details.
He’d been looking into abductions during his free time and asked Aria to pull aside anything that caught her eye that met his criteria. Naturally, he’d first had to tell her about his past, but she’d already known. She’d blushed when she’d admitted it, but she hadn’t needed to. He wasn’t surprised she’d remembered his name, considering the news coverage his and Noelle’s story had gotten in the year after their escape. No one knew the whole truth. Certainly not the media, something both he and Noelle had ensured with their refusal to speak with them. The last thing he wanted was for someone to look at him and immediately associate rape and violence.