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His shoulders bounce as he laughs under his breath. “I found my best friend quality pussy. It’s what guys do.”
“And you watched me stomp around a crime scene yesterday because I was pissy about it.”
“Pissy looks cute on you, Doctor Delicious.” He winks and claps Archer on the back. “Let’s go. I think I have something to run on the Dowel case, too.”
“You do?” Archer’s entire countenance changes. I was the center of his attention, but now, the vigilante is. “What did you get?”
“We’ll discuss it.” He glances across to me. “Say goodbye to your sweet little lovebird while she’s still in a good mood.”
Rolling my eyes, I flip him off with two middle fingers—hardly professional of me—then I turn and head inside the fifteen-story building.
Through the revolving doors and onto massive glistening tiles that echo theclick-click-clickof my shoes with every step I take. I head straight for the elevator and hit the UP button just as soon as I can reach.
I’m early, which means I might get half an hour alone in my office before anyone else thinks to search for me. I can check my emails and read the reports that will have landed in my inbox overnight. I can relish the quiet for a minute and plan my day ahead.
I can remind myself Chloe is a cat and not a woman taking Archer’s attention.
All tasks I’d like to do alone, but the moment the doors open, I’m greeted with Aubree’s megawatt smile.
I sigh.Nevermind.
“You’re early.” I step onto the lift and turn back to hit the button for the ninth floor. “Did you come looking for me?”
“Uh huh.” She wears skintight jeans today and sneakers that, I swear, if she stomps, look like they might light up. Her coat is extra thick, long enough to flirt with the tops of her knees. And when she turns just her head and smiles, I catch a glimpse of royal blue in her mascara. “If you’re at work, I’m at work, Doctor Mayet.”
“Your hours don’t begin until nine unless you’re on call.”
Impatient, Itap-tap-tapthe ‘close door’ button to get us moving, but the moment they begin sliding closed, a yelped “Wait!” echoes across the lobby.
Stepping forward, I glance out to find Ethan, our transport driver from yesterday’s bay homicide, skidding across the tile.
He’s sweet enough, if I don’t stop and wonder how he handles seeing dead bodies all day. He seems too young and fresh for the job. Too sweet andnormal, as Tim would say.
As he dashes through the elevator doors, his chest racing, his breath audible enough to have Aubree glance at me from the corner of her eye, I step forward again and hit the button to close the doors.
“Thanks.” Ethan drops his hands to his hips, like he ran fifteen blocks prior to his dash through the George Stanley. “I was hoping to find you anyway, Doctor Mayet. I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Oh?” I can’t help the way my eyes flicker to the tiny screen above the elevator door. Third floor. Fourth. Fifth. “What’s up?”
“I was cleaning out the van last night.” He digs his hands into his pockets and draws my eyes down. “I hauled five bodies yesterday, if we count Kiera—even though it was the middle of the night.”
“Okay…” I bring my gaze back up to his. “What’s your point?”
“I found this matchbook when I was cleaning up.” He pulls his hand out and presents it, palm side up. Opening his fist and revealing a half-used, somewhat torn matchbook, he searches my face almost like a puppy awaiting praise.
“You—” Stunned, I look down again. “You believe this belongs to one of the bodies you brought in yesterday?”
Aubree opens the bag slung over her chest and takes out a pair of latex gloves. She whips the coffee mug from my left hand and replaces it with the gloves. Then she works quickly and snags a plastic sample bag next.
The elevator stops on the ninth floor by the time I pull the latex on, but I don’t move. Ethan doesn’t move.
“Aubree?”
“I don’t have the camera.” She sets my coffee on the elevator floor and takes out her cell. “But this will do for now.”
She snaps a picture of Ethan’s hand. The matchbook. The sides, the top, the small gap between it and Ethan’s palm.
When she’s done, I carefully reach forward and gingerly take the matchbook with two fingers. “Recording, Dr. Emeri?”
