Page 121 of The Fire We Make

“Mr. King there’s so⁠—“

She was shoved out of the way and Detective Harris appeared in the doorway instead.

”I don’t need no introduction,” he snarled.

Ace straightened slowly, his eyes hard and his blood boiling.

“Are you alright, Jess?” he asked, not even acknowledging Harris as he watched his assistant rub her bumped elbow.

“I’m fine, sir...” she mumbled.

“Good. I’ve got this, thank you.”

She nodded and shot Harris a nasty glare before exiting and closing her door behind her.

“Please. Have a seat detective. To what do I owe this displeasure?”

“You know why I’m here, King,” Harris snapped.

”I’m afraid I don’t. If you don’t start talking or produce a warrant I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

”You called internal affairs on me,” he barked.

Ace poured himself a drink then took a slow sip, drawing out the silence. “To my knowledge, internal affairs is… internal,” he finally said. “Excuse my manners. Drink?” He held up the glass in offering.

Harris sprang from his seat and stomped towards Ace at the window.

“I’d think very carefully about your next move Mark,” Ace warned. His voice was low, just enough for Harris to hear but he could feel Joy watching. Reading lips and clocking their body language. “If you come into my place of business without a warrant and put your hands on me, I’ll have your badge, your kid’s college fund, and your blood on my Armani suit.”

”Is that a threat?” The detective hissed.

”It’s a foreshadowing. If I were you, I’d heed my warning.”

“I’m not letting you slip through the cracks,” Harris vowed, wagging his finger in Ace’s face. “Blue is the key to your demise and I will make sure this charge sticks by any means necessary.”

“Yes I see that. Perhaps that’s why Internal Affairs is on your ass. If I were you, I’d stop while you were ahead.”

Harris gulped and looked over at Joy, then back at Ace as he lowered his voice.

“Maybe we could work something⁠—”

Ace’s laugh was boisterous and reverberated throughout the entire room.

“If I recall, my brother offered you that years ago, and not only did you not take it, you became more aggressive in this witch hunt. That ship has sailed my friend.”

A red faced Harris began to speak but Ace’s hand raised, halting any speech when he saw Joy shift out of the corner of his eye.

He turned, finding her standing and her sharp eyes bouncing between the two men.

“Mr. King, I can come back if you and your guest need some privacy,” she said.

Ace shook his head. “No, Joy. You stay. The detective was just leaving,” he said. He turned to the man before him, and the two stared each other down, neither breaking or folding. Years of animosity, of cat and mouse, and tension radiated off of them.

Harris finally broke their stare but directed it to Joy.

“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting,” Harris said, turning a smile on Joy and extending his hand now that she’d made her presence known.

Joy looked at it for a moment, then thinking better of leaving him hanging, took it in a weak shake.