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“I’m busy, though.” She closes the fridge door and drags her feet as she slowwwwwly turns. “I have work to do. And since you’re always on the phone with Detective Malone, I thought you could?—”
“You’re busy… with work,” I muse. “Calling the detectives is literally your job. So I’m confused…” I peer across the room as Aubree stalks out of Autopsy Room One and spies us across the way. She turns toward us with a smile, though I know she has work to do too. “Better come up with your excuse quick, Fifi. Aubs is coming.”
“I don’t need an excuse! I need a statement. You’re on the phone with your husband countless times a day. Better yet, you’re the chief M.E. You can make a statement. So how about you do your job and help me do mine?”
“Wow…” Aubree comes to a stop in the door, both brows lifted high and her smile, gone. “What did I miss?”
“Chief Mayet is being diffic?—”
“Fifi has a bug up her ass,” I cut in with a saccharine smile. “She’s being hounded by Seventy-Nine, though that’s not unusual, so it’s not the reason for her bad attitude. She wants a statement from the cops but is asking me to make the call. That tells me she has a problem with one, or both, of our detectives. And since one of them is my husband…”
“What did Fletch do?” Aubree bulldozes the rest of the way into the room, her eyes wide with anticipation. “Did you guys hook up and now you’re at the awkward stage?”
“No! We?—”
“Did you bang?” she presses. “Did you ask him out, and he said no? Oh my gosh,” she exclaims. “What will you do if you and him have a huge fight and you never get to see Moo again? Because she’s sweeter than candy, and even when Fletch pisses us off, that little girl is just… she’s just…”
“Emotionally superior to you?” Fifi flattens her lips in disdain. “More mature than you? More likable than you?”
“So you do like her!” Aubree skips the insults hurled her way and latches onto that one, small detail. “You love her, huh?”
“She’s a human child,” Fifi counters robotically. “Human children are messy and noisy and weird.”
“Right?” I take another sip to hide my smile. “Cats, too. Gross.”
“She’s a human child,” Aubs argues, “and we all know you hate those. But this child. This particular one, you’ve gone soft for her.”
“I’ve done no such thing. And since you brought it up, I’d like to make it clear I have no desire to discuss such topics. Ever. Please call the detectives and get a statement on the Alves case.” She’s given up on me now that she has Aubree. “I need a statement for publication within the hour.”
“Or…” Aubree laughs, taking her phone from her pocket and unlocking the screen. “You could call the detectives yourself.” She hits dial and places the call on speaker. “You can even use my phone.”
“I don’t want to?—”
“Hey, Aubs.” Fletch answers on the go. The sounds of traffic filter through the line. People. Wind. “What’s up?”
“Hi, Detective Fletcher. I have Fifi right here with me. She had a question for the primary detectives on the Alves case. Here.” She tosses the phone, no care in the world for the risk of it hitting the floor and smashing. “You’re up.”
“Fifi?” Fletch’s voice rises an octave or two. “Sera?”
“She’s on the line,” Aubs inserts helpfully. “You’re on speaker, Fletch.”
“Um…” Swallowing, Fifi glares as Aubs circles the room and comes up to lean against the counter beside me. Though I’m innocent in all this. I didn’t do anything to upset the uptight assistant in a push-up bra. “Uh… Hi, Detective. It’s Seraphina Lewis.”
“What’s up, Sera? Hang on, Arch.”
My heart gives a little flip-flop because I know this detective is with the other. So near, and yet, so very far away.
“I just need a sec,” he says, then, “Sera? You okay?”
“Of course I’m okay.” She tosses her shy reluctance away and coats herself in too-good-for-you armor. “Aubree made this call against my wishes.”
“Oh, well…” I don’t know where the guys are, but I see Fletch in my mind. Stalking the streets right outside this building, searching for a pocket of privacy amongst a city buzzing with people. “I mean… okay. So you want me to hang up?”
“Yeah, you can?—”
“She wants a statement on the Alves case,” Aubree adds with a grin. “And she’s stammering and nervous to talk to you. So I thought I’d help you both out.”
“You’re nervous?” Fletch questions. “Really? Why?”
