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Agitated, yup, and trying to prove he’s a big man. Like he doesn’t have a gigantic chip on his shoulder. Has he always been this way, though, or is it a more recent development with him? His records said nothing about his personality beyond a few perfunctory phrases that might describe any stalwart member of the force.
Dedicated. Hardworking. Responsible.
Might as well be talking about a border collie.
I study him, well aware that he’s studying me, too. Devan’s records with his precinct might not boast anything of interest, but his psych records do.
“If you’re innocent, then you have nothing to hide,” Devan says with a shrug. “And you won’t mind coming in with me. I’d feel more comfortable talking to you there.”
“Maybe you should have tried calling me. Nothing I love more than gabbing on the phone,” I say in an affected tone.
Irritated, he rolls his neck, rubbing at the base of it to work out the kinks. “You’re not making this easy on me.”
“Why should I?”
“I’m an officer of the law,” he replies.
“I think”—I take another step forward, delighted when he jumps—“you came here today by yourself because you know you don’t have anything on me. You can’t take me into the station without a cause, right?” I keep my tone infuriatingly calm. “Perhaps you have some other ideas for those handcuffs. I might be able to oblige you.”
I’ve caught him off guard. I like that, too. He’s got the look of a man who hasn’t had someone give him shit in far too long.
Especially since I’m not in a position to go any further with him. Physically, mentally, you name it. Toying with the police is one thing. Using him to get information on Everett and the other boys is a second matter.
But fucking him?
Nope. Not a line I can cross. Not without serious repercussions. AKA deadly.
Business can wait a little longer while I tease him, though. I went to the Galleria today—one of the Syndicates’ above-the-ground enterprises—to work alone. To find a little fucking motivation since being in the tiny office of Broderick’s private building was starting to drive me out of my gourd. Not to mention, I brought in lemon curd donuts today, and Blake said nothing. Just turned his nose up at them. Didn’t even try a bite.
I’ve got programs running in the background, looking for links between the three men I’ve lost.
Why not spend a little time teasing the tantalizing Detective Devan Bishop?
“I’ve looked into you, you know,” I tell him for the sheer pleasure of watching his reaction. “Slightly, of course. Nothing too intimate or exploratory. I’ve probably learned more about you than you’ve been able to dig up on me.”
He stares at me for a long while before he bobs his head. “I had a feeling you’d checked me out. Call it a gut instinct, but you seem like the type of woman who likes to know exactly what and who she’s dealing with. And has the means to accomplish it.”
“Aw, you’ll make me blush.”
“Wouldn’t be a good look with your red hair,” he gripes.
I turn away to hide my grin. A low blow, but I should have suspected he’d go there with the blowjob bit. I have a file on my phone on Devan, one my minions pulled at my request for more details since he’s the lead detective assigned to Everett’s case.
My poor Everett. Rather than antagonizing the detective, I should be focusing on my shit and keeping my business to myself.
The other way around, too. Instead of antagonizing me, Devan needs to get back to fucking work instead of this verbal foreplay.
“Aria, we can do this the easy way or the hard way, and I’m not immune to either. I’m not an easygoing man. And you know more than you’re telling me,” he continues as he goes back to all business. Probably five seconds away from whipping out his badge to shine it in my face.
It’s my turn to shrug. “I know a lot of things. Like why the sky is blue.”
“Rayleigh Scattering.” He says the phrase like it pisses him off, his teeth gritted hard enough to crack a crown or something.
“Wow. Good for you.” I slow-clap just to tick him off further. “Now, are we going to stand out here all day, or are we going to actually reach a solution? Because I’m not talking to you unless you give me a damn good reason, and it’s surely not happening on your terms.”
Devan grabs my elbow and hauls me toward his car. “Come on. We’re going. Reason be damned.”
My stomach flips. I’d been taken in by the cops before and released just as quickly when they were unable to pin anything on me. Soliciting. Drug possession. Only one of those things was true, and it’s been years since I left my former profession.
