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“She’s a client, Bishop.”
“This is police business.”
“Until you figure out there’s a crime going on, it’s mine too.”
I sigh. “Whatever, I’m checking the cliff side.”
“Already did.”
Tanner looks like the smug prick he is when I glance at him. “And?”
He shakes his head. “No signs of forced entry. No broken windows, no jimmied doors. Fuck, the alarm system even got turned off with the key code.”
I furrow my brow. “You’re sure Loretta is still in Europe?”
“Positive.”
“So what set it off?”
“Motion sensor upstairs, master bedroom.”
I frown. “Just upstairs? She got a cat or something?”
“A cat that can use a keypad? Yeah, for sure,” he says sarcastically.
I grimace. “Let’s check this out. Tag along if you want, but keep that fucking gun holstered. And stay back.”
Tanner follows me around to the cliff-facing of the house, but I notice he doesn’t do shit about holstering that firearm. Prick.
The surf crashes behind us, and the big moon is white on the waves down below.
“Nice night,” I grunt.
“So romantic,” Tanner sighs sarcastically. “Aww, now Bishop…did you set this up just for me for Valentine’s Day?”
I roll my eyes and chuckle lowly. “You’re a fucking weirdo, you know that?”
“I do. So do the Marines,” he snorts. He nods at the sweeping patios and layered decks around the huge pool.“Up there,” he nods at the top landing, which leads to a huge wall of windows.
“Master bedroom?”
He nods.
“I’ll call in.”
“What?” Tanner frowns. “No. We got this.”
“Ever heard of a warrant?” I mutter.
“We’re not going in. And if we do, I have the power to do so as her security consultant.”
I eye him.
“I’ve got a contract signed with power of estate if you want to see it, dickhead.”
I’m about to tell my younger friend to dial it the fuck back again. But suddenly a light flickers upstairs. It’s got the distinct waver and glow of a cellphone screen, and I glance at Tanner.
“Let’s go. But I’m not kidding; holster that fucking sidearm. I’m saying that as a cop, Tanner, not your friend.”
