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“It’s fine, Collins,” Higham says. “This is FBI business, not MPD. I’m handling it.”
“Your face suggests otherwise. Have you asked them about the explosion at Brad Black’s address?”
“Gas leak,” I say flatly.
“Yeah,” she purrs. “Do we believe them, Agent Higham?”
Fuck, I want to punch her.This woman does not give two fucks about who she upsets on her path to success and recognition. She wanders over, and James steps into her path, looking down threatening. She’s not fazed, or if she is, she’s doing a really fucking good job of hiding it. “Oh.” She looks him up and down. “You must be the one they call The Enigma.”
“You can call me James.”
“How’s Beau?”
Historically, such a simple question asked has ended in tears. So how’s he going to handle this? “Well, she’s not a cop anymore, so I think we can safely say she’s good.”
Collins laughs. “Perhaps not so good when I arrest her for the murder of Marek Zielinska. I believe you all know him as The Shark.”
My eyes shoot to James.Oh fuck.
“Very interesting CCTV footage has come to light,” she goes on, wandering up and down, thoughtful, like Poirot used to do when he was detailing to an audience how he came to figure out who the murderer was. It’s fucking annoying. “Very interesting indeed.”
“You’re lying.”
“Am I?” She stops pacing and rests all her weight on a hip. Cocky. “Then explain how I know you dumped the bodies in the incinerator bin. Explain how I know that you were hiding your girlfriend from The Shark with your body pressed to hers against the wall? Did it turn you on?” She grins. “Your girlfriend killing someone for you? Did your dick get hard?”
Jesus.She needs to stop.
James steps into Collins, breathing down on her. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Yes, that’s definitely a threat,” I say, getting up, leaving Higham to shuffle to his arse and prop himself up against a nearby booth.
“Then I’ll take you both.” She produces another set of cuffs. “I’m doing well today, aren’t I?”
“Blinding,” I retort, joining James. Intimidating much? She asked for it. “I present my wrists to her, as does James. “Which one of us are you taking first?” I ask.
“I think I’ll call for backup. I sense a bit a friction, if you know what I mean.” She pulls out her mobile and steps back, taking her phone to her ear.
“Where’s your partner?” I ask.
“What?”
“You sorts. You usually travel in pairs, don’t you?” I tilt my head in question and laugh. “Oh, I know. No one can work with you, can they? Because, like us, they end up just wanting to smash your fucking face in.” I look at Higham. “Am I right, or am I right?”
He looks away.
“I think you’re right,” James says, his eyes lasers on Collins.
“I like my own company.” She goes back to her phone.
“Or don’t like sharing the credit.”
She shrugs. “I’m competitive.”
“Be careful, Collins. That competitiveness might be the death of you.”
She smirks. “Another threat?”
