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“First off.” Sean raised a finger. “I never said I got laid.”
“I know you went to the motorcycle show. Then you come in here this morning with the sort of smile on your face that only means one thing.” Castillo shook her head and wagged a forefinger. “Nuh-uh. Don’t even try.”
“Second.” Sean moved on. “The case is fresh. Somebody took out Delaney’s security camera with a rock yesterday.”
Castillo’s eyebrows rose. She eyed the monitor again. “So who’s Lauren Bacall?”
“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” Sean texted Delaney, asking her exactly that. Sean wondered which would come first: Delaney’s response or the call from Vintage Rides.
“Alright.” Castillo shrugged. “You let me know when you figure it out.”
Sean eyed his messy desk with a sigh. He’d gotten slack on the whole tidying up thing. He decided to keep busy while he was waiting so he got up, threw away a coffee cup, organized his pens and straightened out his keyboard. He’d just finished pushing in his chair when he froze, hands on the back of it.
“What?” Castillo was waiting in the doorway, fist on her hip.
“How’s that song go again?” Sean didn’t look up. He was afraid to break the spell, lose the thread of what was unraveling.
“What? Oh.” A few seconds passed.“Wrapped around each other...trying so hard to stay warm...we had it all...”Castillo hummed a little bit, like she might’ve forgotten some lyrics. “Why?”
Sean finally looked up. He knew he was smiling, but he didn’t realize how big until Castillo mimicked him.
“I know who did it.”
“Did what?”
“I know who stole Delaney’s bike.”
