“Smooth,” Neil muttered.
Calvin stared at us. “Any other details of the case you want to share with an unauthorized individual, Millett?”
That annoyed Neil. Not that it was difficult to do. But his feathers were all a-ruffled that evening. “Was Frank Newellnotconfidential information?” he countered.
“I explained to Sebastian who Mr. Newell was so that he’d understand why I’m requesting police protection.”
“I told you this morning, and I’ll tell you again,” Neil said sternly, “keeping him out of this mystery is going to create more problems than simply asking for his help.”
“I don’twantto be involved,” I protested.
“Yes, you do,” Neil shot back.
“I mean, yes—but I won’t—wait, my help with what?” I asked suddenly, holding up my hands like I was putting on the brakes.
“No,” Calvin said to Neil with finality. “We’re done and not having this discussion again.” He looked at me briefly. “Grab your coat, sweetheart.”
I bit back a comment about them marking territory by pissing on my floor, and went toward the front door to fetch my coat from the rack. I glanced back, not surprised to see Calvin had assumed the hands-on-hips pose of authority as he continued to speak with Neil. When I grabbed for my scarf next, I caught one of the female officers in the open doorway staring at me.
“Men,” I said with a shrug.
She snorted, shook her head, and laughed a little.
I detoured briefly to the kitchen in order to collect the dog’s bowls and a bag of food. When I left the dark room and walked back down the hall, Calvin was straightening from putting Dillon’s leash on. I took it from him while he tossed the duffel bag over his shoulder.
“Usually I’m the one running low on sugar, spice, and everything nice,” I stated as we left the apartment.
Calvin followed me into the hall, tactfully ignoring the jab. “Millett will finish up here while I drive you to the hotel.”
“All right.”
He declined further comment after that.
We went down the three flights of stairs to the ground floor, where Calvin took the lead in order to have a brief word with the CSU detective and uniformed cop at the front door. I then followed him outside and along the sidewalk to his parked Ford Fusion. I settled Dillon in the back seat and climbed into the passenger’s as Calvin started the car. Cold air briefly blew out of the vents before it began to warm.
Calvin finagled the car from the side of the road and took off toward First Avenue. He hung the first left onto East Eleventh, then turned again uptown upon reaching Third Avenue. He adjusted the temperature controls with one hand.
“Need the heat higher?” he asked.
I shook my head. “It’s fine.” I glanced to the left as Calvin settled back in his seat. Light from streetlamps bounced off the windshield, cutting abstract shapes across his strong profile. “Hey. Uh—I’m not causing some kind of issue between you and Neil, am I?”
“No, Seb.”
“Because you could have fooled me.”
“Millett seems to have selective amnesia,” Calvin eventually said, “and thinks we’d benefit from having you professionally consult on this case.”
“Is that a slam?”
“Against you? It’s not meant to be, no.”
“I find it difficult to believe Neil wants me on this case more than what the Collector has already forced me into.”
“You’re smart,” Calvin said simply.
“That never stopped him from telling me to sit down and shut up in the past.”
Calvin tapped the wheel absently. “Yes, well… you might have an exasperating method of sleuthing, but that doesn’t diminish the knowledge you’ve provided on past cases.”
