Page 50 of Sinful Memory


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But that’s a problem for another day.

“I don’t want to go to the mayor’s house tonight.” She turns just her head and pouts, the warmth of her stare heating the side of my face. “I’m tired.”She’s sore.“I’m not great company.”She’s in extreme pain, and wants privacy to deal with it.“And he always knows when to pounce.”She doesn’t want him to know she’s hurting.“Archer, he’s going to demand I double my salary and fire someone else to make up for it!”

God forbid she pay herself a livable wage.

Not that she needs it. But she doesn’t know that yet.

“He won’t,” I promise. “We’re going there to discuss an active case.”

We’re only minutes from his house, and she knows it. She telegraphs that when she brings her hand up and nibbles on her thumbnail.

“He won’t take my calls, babe. But he has to answer to all this shit.”

“What if his wife doesn’t know about his relationship with Anna?”

“He said she does. If she’s being lied to, then that’s called motive and places him back at the top of our list of suspects. If she knows, then maybe they’ll discuss it with us.”

“Archer—”

“If it was anyone else,” I bite out, “any other man in this city, you’d have already been in his face and demanding answers. It’s not even your job to investigate or speak to the suspects, Mayet. But you make a habit of inserting yourself in my cases and interfering. Anyone else except the mayor, and you’d have already asked for my cuffs.”

“But Justin didn’t hurt her.”

“We assume,” I counter. “We hope. But the DA’s gonna chew this case apart if we go in with ‘he’s our friend, so he’s innocent.’”

“I believe him when he said he didn’t hurt her.”

“And I believe you when you say that.” I reach out and slide my hand along her thigh. Distraction. Comfort. “But the chief won’t let me close a case on ‘my wife said so’, either. We need more.”

“So to get more,” she drops her hand on mine with angry movements, but instead of flicking mine away, she laces our fingers together and holds on tight, “you’re gonna crash his home? Uninvited. Unwelcome.”

I flash a wide grin and peer to my wife as we pull up outside of large, wrought-iron gates. “Butyou’realways welcome, Doctor Mayet. He adores you.”

“What are you doing on my property, Detective Malone?” Justin Lawrence’s serious voice bites through the speaker box on my left. “I’m not going to talk about Anna.”

I look to Minka and raise a brow in wait. In question. Expectation.

Frustrated, she leans over me, and plants her elbow right on my junk in retaliation. “It’s me, Mayor. We were hoping we could come in and speak with you.”

When he says nothing, she sighs and adds, “Please? It’s important.”

Silence hangs for a loaded beat, and tension fills the air as Lawrence considers his options. Birds sing in the trees lining his property, and cicadas follow as summer races closer.

Finally, a buzz sounds from the gates, and the iron opens inward.

I click my tongue, and chuckle as Minka pushes off my lap and straightens in her seat.

“How does it feel knowing the mayor will have you in his home, Mayet? No invitation necessary. No qualms. This powerful motherfucker will let you run on his lawn and not say shit about it.”

“You’re sensationalizing,” she drawls as I start the car forward. “With the intention to make me feel insecure about the privileges I’ve somehow been afforded.”

She’s awkward when she’s uncomfortable. And uncomfortable is exactly what she is right now.

“He might teach you how to ride a bike if you ask.” I set my hand on her lap to hold her down, lest she strike out and nail me in the balls again, and bringing the car along Lawrence’s smooth concrete driveway, I study the massive multi-story mansion with columns stretching from the ground to the very top floor. Verandas wrap all the way around, and shutters surround every window. “He might buy you pretty new dresses and call youdarling, if that’s what you want.”

“I’ve hurt men for less,” she snarls.

As I bring the car to a stop at the bottom of a dozen concrete stairs that lead to Lawrence’s front door, Minka’s leg grows more tense beneath my hand. Not because I tease her, but because she’s averse to any kind of affection from anyone besides me.

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