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ChapterSixteen
The thing they never show you on TV is how slow the cops work in real life. The time it takes them to get all their experts to analyze a scene, check out their databases for hits, identify random fibers that could be clues. Jones got in touch with them the day after she’d received the photo of Blake, predictably with nothing new to tell them, but she’d woken up in Blake’s bed that morning surprisingly satisfied considering the lack of sex that had occurred.
They’d found nothing at the site of the rabbit killing. Their theory was it had been dropped into Blake’s land from above via drone, but Rose was pretty sure they had no idea what was going on. The only thing they did seem sure of was that her ‘admirer’ was currently fixated on taking Blake out, at least that’s why the cops thought he’d sent the photo of Blake injured to them separately from the one with her apology flowers. Like it was a warning of things to come.
The other thing they don't show you on TV is the red tape, the bureaucracy cops got caught in. They thought the escalation of violence meant their guy might attack tonight and were preparing to set-up a sting. Why they thought this would be successful, she had no idea. It wasn’t like a swarm of cops outside Blake’s house was exactly subtle.
“They’re like a bunch of chickens, running around with their heads cut off but somehow still managing to squawk,” Rose complained to Maia while Blake dealt with Jones.
“Damn,” Maia sighed. “If they’re treating the white folk like this, I shudder to think what the rest of us are dealing with.”
Rose couldn’t help but agree. “It’s a fucking mess.”
“How is it at Blake’s though?” Maia’s voice was sly, and Rose knew that what her friend really wanted to know was whether she’d had sex with Blake again.
“Blake’s is fine,” she said evasively. “Are you still staying with Cal?”
“Yes,” Maia giggled, and Rose snickered.
“You have it bad.”
“So do you,” Maia retorted, and Rose pouted.
“Do not.”
“That’s funny because I’m pretty sure I saw in the paper that you’re engaged–”
“Yeah well, they also said I was dead,” Rose snorted. “Can’t believe anything you read, darling.”
They chatted for a few more minutes, and Rose closed her eyes. With Maia’s voice in her ear, she could almost pretend that things were normal. A gentle tap on her bedroom door startled Rose awake, and she blinked around blearily.
The sun had gone down, and at some point Maia must have hung up. Blake stuck his head around the door, his hair sticking up at the back like he’d also just woken up from a nap.
He grinned at her. “Sleeping on the job, princess?”
The job? Her eyes flew wide. “Oh crap, have they started already?”
Blake nodded. He looked tired. Dark circles were smudged under his eyes, and his usual cocky smile had a sharp edge that she understood all too well. Rose groaned as she stood up and grabbed his hand, walking them both carefully down the stairs while Blake followed bemusedly.
“This is pointless,” she said, breathing out deeply as they reached the kitchen and she snagged sodas for them both. “So what the guy sent me a photo of you? It doesn’t mean he’s coming after you any more than he was before. Maybe he was just trying to upset me.”
Blake raised an eyebrow. “Upset you?”
“Well, yeah, you’re my–” She glanced up as she spoke and saw the intrigued look in his eyes as he smirked.
“Your…?”
“Host,” she blurted, and Blake bit his lip.
“Right.” He winked. “Well, I think they’re more worried about the escalation. He trashed your apartment before, but physically harming someone is on another level.”
“Yeah, because he seemed so friendly when he was scrawling ‘whore’ all over my walls.” Rose rolled her eyes, expecting Blake to laugh, and instead staring at him when he frowned. “Come on, let’s go and sit down. This is a waste of time. I don’t see how they expect this to be a success. A truckload of cops in your driveway isn’t my idea of inconspicuous.”
Blake shrugged. “I’m sure they know what they’re doing.”
“I’m not,” she muttered and plopped down onto the sofa, careful not to slosh her drink. “So where are we at with the Gala? Are people still accepting invites?”
“Yep, some want in because they want the inside scoop on our situation, and the rest are just wanting to rub elbows with everyone else as usual.” Blake eased himself down into the corner seat, smiling wryly, and she swallowed as his casual tee rode up. It was probably the most relaxed she’d seen him since she’d been here. Normally, he spent a portion of the day working and was in his usual shirt and slacks, but today…
