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“How so?” Gates snorted. “She callin your mom or something?”
My head snapped up and I glared at him. “My parents are dead.”
“Sorry.” He raised his hands in surrender. “I’ve gotta ask though, what’s with the gloves? If you didn’t kill her, what are they for? It’s like eighty degrees.”
I shifted on the bench and looked away from him. “I’m a germaphobe.”
“Ah, and do germaphobes often hang out with dead bodies? I mean this is a pretty weird place to get caught.”
“You think getting caught standing over a dead body is weird? This doesn’t even crack my top ten. One time I was found handcuffed inside a cage at the dog pound, wearing nothing but a trench coat.”
His jaw dropped, but Natalie came back before he could say more. She looked at her partner and then down at me. “Jackson will be here in an hour. We’re to keep you with us until then.”
Gates frowned. “Shouldn’t we take her to the station? We found her standing over a dead body.”
“It’s a favor to Detective Sinclair,” Natalie said, adjusting her gun belt.
“Oh Jeeze.” I chuckled. “You should know that’s not gonna work. You can do Jackson all the favors in the world, but it’s not gonna get you a place on the task force. Hell, it won’t even get you into his bed.”
“I suggest you exercise your right to be silent.”
“What’s this case to Sinclair?” Gates asked, thankfully changing the subject.
Natalie’s lips curled up into a wicked grin. “Rebekah is his wife.”
“Oh.”
I rolled my eyes and the hour and a half that followed crept by like molasses from a bottle. A handful of other uniforms arrived to secure the crime scene. Techs and the medical examiners put up floodlights. I watched it all, unable to move or help. I started reciting the names on the surrounding graves in my head just to keep myself busy and distracted until Jackson Sinclair stepped around the side of the mausoleum beside me.
“What the hell have you gotten yourself into now?” he asked, looming over me. He’d cut his hair and trimmed his beard since the last time we spoke. His bangs were swept back from his face, and expertly tended stubble covered his chin. He looked thinner. Beneath his jacket his shirt clung to his pecks, The very definition of tall, dark, and handsome. Right down to the crooked smile twitching at the corners of his lips. He was enjoying the sight of me in cuffs way more than he should.
I glared up at his six-foot frame. “What took you so long?”
“Traffic.”He shrugged. “So, what did you do?”
Jackson had the uncanny ability to make me feel like a little kid getting scolded by her father. I stood up, taking away some of his advantage. “You’re a bad liar.”
“What can I say?” He smiled. “It’s fun watching you sweat. Makes you smell delicious.”
“First of all, ew,” I said, lowering my voice. “Only a werewolf could enjoy the scent of a woman sweating in a cemetery. Second, will you please get these cuffs off me? My shoulders hurt.”
“Not until you tell me what happened. Nat said she found you standing over the body. Did you touch it?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest.
“I didn’t get a chance. Officer Davis and her partner blinded and cuffed me before I could figure out what happened.”
“Did ya kill her?”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, yeah, I killed her and then stuck around to get caught by the cops. Of course, I didn’t kill her. I was coming here to meet her. She was a client.”
“They couldn’t find a wallet. What’s her name?”
“Nadia Lenkova. She lived in Algiers. I think.”
Jackson’s eyes slid past me to the uniforms crowded around the square. He waved his hand and Natalie came sauntering over to us. I couldn’t help but laugh when I saw the added swagger in her step.
“Hey, Detective,” she crooned as her eyes raked up and down his body.
“Jesus, get a room,” I said, just loud enough for Jackson to hear.
