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We’re at the door, about to exit, when he blurts, “Wait.”
I grimace and halt, eyeing him. “You can go out the side door. You’re right. It’s safer that way.”
“There’s a shit ton of press out there. You’re not exactly an unknown face, thanks to The Umbrella Man case and your father. Are you ready to talk to them?”
I press my lips together and curse, “Damn it,” before I twist to face him. “Why are you always such a Boy Scout?”
“How does me warning you about the press make me a Boy Scout? And that’s what you think of me?” he challenges. “That I’m a Boy Scout?”
“Deprived of Girl Scout cookies and therefore always in need of a cookie? Yes. And you will absolutely need a cookie and a whole lot more, every day of your life if you keep working with me, Jay. When are you going to figure that out?”
“I like Girl Scout cookies, especially the Thin Mints. And scotch, which I also need every day that I’m with you. I’m good. I’m still all in.”
“For a smart guy, you sure let Kane make you dumb.”
“Kane hired me but I keep coming to work for you, Lilah.”
My mind flashes to me on that beach again, and I know in my heart that had Kane not shown up early from his travels that night to surprise me, I’d be dead right now.
“And before you throw that bullet I took back in my face. I get it. It could have been avoided, but I didn’t know that because you weren’t communicating about the cases with me the way you are now. In that moment. I believed it was me or you, and I chose me. And, no, I don’t want a cookie, nor do I care if you keep bringing it up. Maybe it reminds you that you have someone by your side who you can count on, Lilah. And I don’t want you to walk through that front door. I don’t think it’s a smart decision. I can’t be in front and behind you at the same time. And stop trying to get me fired.”
It’s not my way to hug someone or make them feel loved and appreciated, though at times I try. I’m not going to try now. Nor am I going to give him kudos for finally growing some balls. That would be counterproductive. Because right now, he basically confirmed he’s a good guy willing to die for me. I’m not the person a good guy dies for. I’m the girl who stabs the bad guy until he’s dead, with no chance for him to beg for mercy.
“No,” I say. “I need a shower more than I need to go out the front door with you acting like the goalie at a soccer game. Though it would be amusing. Show me the way out of this chainsaw massacre.”
He laughs and says, “As long as we both know I’d make a handsome and sexy goalie. This way.” He turns and starts walking and Lord, help us both, he’s getting way too comfortable with me for me to scare him off.
We fall into step together and shockingly manage to avoid a stoppage. Once we’re at the rear side door, I look left down a hallway. Curiosity gets the best of me and I walk down it to find a service elevator. Jay groans but keeps pace.
I grab my phone and punch in Rollins’ number. He answers on the first ring. “Lilah?”
“There’s a service elevator at the East side rear exit, down a hallway.” I stop in front of it, looking for any marking but finding none, as I add, “Can I get someone over here?”
“We’ve been all over the service floor, but the elevator entrance was opposite where you are right now.”
“And where is that elevator?”
“Opposite side of the building.”
“Then how do we know this goes to the same place?”
“I’ll get someone over there,” he says, and I look up to find him standing at the end of the hall. I walk in his direction, with Jay still tagging along and before I can say a word, he says, “I got this. I’ll let you know.”
I’d call him territorial and bearish—meant as a compliment because I want to get the hell out of here—but he wouldn’t get that. Then we’d go at each other, and while I’d normally enjoy the battle, I really want to get the hell out of here. So, I settle on, “Let me know,” and step around him, and he remains as silent as a sleeping baby. Probably because he’s afraid one word and I’ll change my mind about leaving.
But I won’t, and that’s not because I’m running.
For the most part, I visit a crime scene, do my thing and leave, unless I’ve fully taken over a case. At this point, me taking control of the case was a way to manage the political talkingheads. I don't want or need to run everylittle detail of the investigation. Detective Rollins has proven competent enough to manage the job, and humble enough to call for help.
Jay hurries ahead of me, opens the exit door, and inspects our path.
I’d roll my eyes but the truth is, the press might as well be weeds growing all around your feet, ready to climb on your back, and shortly after, they suffocate you if given the chance. Clear the path of the weeds.Please.
He eases back in and says, “There’s a yellow line of tape, but no one is hanging out around it but a few officers. We’re clear.”
Him and his protectiveness have me thinking back to me in that elevator. When he steps back to allow my exit. I, in turn, step directly in front of him, and point a finger at him, looking him in the eye. “What happened in that elevator stays between us, understand?”
He swallows hard, and his eyes dilate.
