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“Melody...” he says in a low voice and it’s the kind of voice that is too deep and raspy to be comfortable to the ears but it echoes and echoes and there’s a hint of possession in it.
I suppose that in a way, I am in his ownership, in his charge and I rub my thighs together, tingling so much that I need to squeeze my eyes. And when I peek again, I notice that his gaze is still on me like that of a guardian and it feels like we are of the same kind.
While the other detectives were polite, there was also this attitude that I should get over what happened, some of them even dropping joking remarks when they thought I didn’t hear.
But never Callan. Never him because he knows. He knows because he has been cut too.
6
Callan
I stayed with the girl the whole night, until daylight streamed in throughher windows. I awoke her gently, murmuring her name, telling her I had to leave for work. At first she looked startled, her eyes firing toward the windows but when she noticed the sunlight she eased and nodded.
She’s afraid of the dark, that much is clear and I can’t have her go through this coming night on her own. I have to be there for her. Have to come up with something and I grab one of my pens, balancing the tip on my desk.
I should be tired but I can’t feel it, my body going on overdrive because I am here and not with Melody. And my body wants to be with the person who needs it the most. Especially now, while Romeo is still out there but some of the policeman that are lower in rank are patrolling Melody’s street in case he’d strike, even though it’s rare for a criminal to strike in the middle of the day.
It’s me who should be patrolling, but I’m buried in work, piles and piles of files on my desk and yet I can’t concentrate on that. Melody is taking up too much space in my mind and I throw a look at the website on my computer.
Melody Michaels, the daughter of politician Burton Michaels and a renowned socialite that seems to have been loved amongst the upper echelon. There are photos of her at parties and charity events, boldly cheek kissing with people that are nothing like me.
Compared to them, I am too scruffy, too rough around the edges and I could eat all of them for breakfast. They know nothing of the darker side of life. Neither did Melody. But then she did and now she is more similar to me than them.
On the photos on the website, her hair is bleached and she’s wearing copious amounts of makeup. Now she has her natural hair color, the makeup gone and it is good because it means nobody will recognize her.
It’s what I want because I plan to take her away...
“Byrne, you’re a lucky son of a gun,” Leta says, standing beside my desk and I look up. She crosses her arms. “I didn’t report you to the boss, in case you’d like to know.”
“You report me all you want. I don’t give a feck.”
She looks taken aback by this, because she’s the kind of woman who lives for her work. A while ago, she was in a relationship with a young girl, a model I believe but they broke up because Leta is all about the hustle.
Inhaling she asks. “How is our pretty victim? Still as jittery?”
Giving her a look I reply, “She’s better now.”
Leta nods but she seems to have something on her heart. “I was thinking of coming by her place, have a little chat girl to girl.”
I frown. “Why?”
Laughing Leta says, “Because she might need it after what she’s been through. She’s a striking young woman and it would be a shame if what happened to her affects her for the rest of her life.”
It won’t. I’ll make sure of it.
“Don’t bother going to her place. Racket and I are going this afternoon anyway.”
Harvey turns to us, nodding and a look of displeasure crosses Leta’s face but then she walks away and my eyes go to Harvey.
“Need to talk to you. Coffee break?”
“You read my mind, partner,” Harvey says, getting up and we grab some coffee and decide to relocate to the parking lot because the sun is out. As always Harvey starts telling me about his sick mother before going over to the topic of a newly opened strip club when I interrupt him.
“I’m taking a week off.”
Nearly spitting his coffee out, Harvey stares at me, the cold light from the sun shining on his blowsy face. “The hell? You’re taking a week off now? Now that we have a ton of fucking work...”
“Listen. It’s about Melody. It’s not safe for her to be in that house and I’m going to take her away, keep her hidden until our killer is behind bars.” And with behind bars, I mean dead and a rotting corpse.
