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Cory grins again, giving me another glimpse of his perfect smile.
He’s a cute kid, dark hair, lean body, with big brown puppy dog eyes. He’s a little small for my taste but I’ve never been much into twinks.
“Thanks Gavin.” He turns to leave.
“Hey Cory!” I call out, not caring about the twenty sets of eyes that are focused on us. He looks over his shoulder. “Thank you.”
Cory smiles and continues on his way.
Well, hell. Maybe something good came out of this shitstorm after all.
Mitch
I pull up to my townhouse and stop on the street. A Huntington Park squad car sits in my driveway next to a plain, dark blue sedan. There’s yellow crime tape across the front door, which is standing wide open. I see a uniformed officer inside, talking to someone inside the house.
I sigh. My neighborhood is on the rough side of town. Across the street are older homes, built in the fifties. Bars bolted onto all of the windows. We’re no strangers to police activity around here, but many of the residents nearby don’t trust law so much as break it.
Time to see what’s going on. I climb the front stairs instead of going through the garage like I normally do. Greeting the officer, I show him my I.D. and explain who I am and what I used to do for a living.
“Go ahead in. Detective Vallejo is lead. He’s in the kitchen.”
I nod at the officer and pick my way through the debris. An imposing man in slacks and a blazer is standing near the sink, talking to a gloved technician.
Before I can speak, my phone buzzes. Sasha. Shit, she probably saw me with Gavin on the news last night. I already ignored calls from both my mom and CeCe. All of them have nothing better to do than dig around in my life.
The detective’s deep voice interrupts my internal grumbling. “Good, Salter. Bag it up and take it back to the lab with everything else.” The technician picks up a piece of glass, depositing it in a Ziploc bag.
“Mitch Hale!” Detective Vallejo crosses the room to shake my hand. “Long time, eh?”
I laugh without humor. “Juan, I slept about thirty minutes last night after you left.” I met the detective when he came to the rental house last night to take Gavin’s statement and mine. I glance around at the mess. “When can I get someone in here to clean up?”
“We’re done. Got some prints, we’ll run them at the station.”
“They’re most likely all mine. I told you how meticulous this guy is.”
“Probably.” The detective slaps me on the back with his huge hand. “Doesn’t hurt to try, though.”
“Guess not. Listen, I need to use my computers. Is that a problem?”
Vallejo scratches his head. “Nah. Crime scene is packing up. They got pictures. You should inventory the damage before clearing it out so you can give the list to your insurance company.”
“Right.” Like I care about stupid shit like that while this psycho gets closer and closer to Gavin. “I will.”
“All right. We’ll get out of your hair. You got my number?” The man’s dark eyes meet mine.
“Yep. I’ll call you if anything turns up.”
“See you later then, Mitch.”
A few minutes later, the house is eerily silent. I rip down the bright yellow tape and lock the front door. It takes everything in me not to have another tantrum when I see the state of ruin in my home. Steeling myself, I ignore the mess and head for the office.
While the computers warm up, I dial Sasha’s number.
“Darling Mitch. You can’t live without me,” she drawls when she answers.
“Sasha,” I growl.
“Ooooh, someone is grumpy today!”
