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“Adrianna is afraid of William,” she counters. “He’s already proven what he thinks of her. He was drinking and mean.”
“Drinking means he sleeps heavier. Who knows, maybe she fetched his drinks for him that night. The more he consumed, the heavier he would sleep.”
“Fetch?” She takes a noisy bite of her apple and watches me with a lifted brow. “Is she a dog?”
“You’re looking for a fight.” I set my knife down, grab a bowl and place it on the counter, then I crack eggs inside. “We have nowhere to look, Minka. No one else fits.”
“And the fact the murder method doesn’t fit means you have no choice but to look harder. She could have shoved peanuts down his throat while he slept and made the entire ordeal safer for herself.”
“Right, because it’s not like the medical examiner wouldn’t notice the peanuts he ingested and call it murder.”
“It’s being called murder either way! Someone wanted that dude dead, Archer. They didn’t care if it looked like murder. All that mattered was getting the job done.”
“And making it look like Adrianna did it,” I amend. “If the only objective was to kill him, they could’ve done it at the garage. Or in the drive-thru. Hell, they could have done it while the girls slept and Adrianna was in class. But no, they chose to kill him while she was home. They wanted her to be the one pinned for it.”
“So maybe you’re not looking for someone who had a grudge against William.” Minka swallows her apple and takes another bite. “But perhaps someone who hated Adrianna. It gets her tossed in jail on circumstantial alone. Maybe it doesn’t stick, maybe it does. But it gets her locked up immediately, for a few days at least.”
“Could be someone in her class.” I crack every last egg we own, setting the shells aside and grabbing a fork to mix them together. “Adrianna isn’t the only one who took that class and studied Brenda Magellan last week. But everyone in that lecture hall would’ve seen Adrianna’s constant bruising. Her behavior. They would know she was down. Abused. Broke. They probably knew she was married and had small kids.”
“The fact peanuts were not used to kill him kind of implies the killer didn’t know him that well.”
I beat the eggs and roll my eyes. Though I’ll be dead and buried long before I pass up an opportunity to peek at my wife’s long, bare legs. “You’re obsessed with the peanut angle.”
“What?! As if you wouldn’t use that if you wanted someone dead. It’s too easy.”
“You’re unhinged.” I drop peppers into the egg mix and move to slice an onion. “If I wasn’t afraid you’d go to prison for life, I’d suggest you speak to a professional about your homicidal tendencies.”
“But since you wanna keep me around…” She sticks her leg forward when I turn from the counter to get milk from the fridge, but instead of letting me pass, she wraps it around my hips and draws me in.
She’s the hunter, and I’m her prey. But I walk willingly toward death, knowing she’s the last thing I’ll see before it’s lights out.
“You wouldn’t have me sent to prison, would you, Archer?” She drags her pointer finger along my jaw. “You’d miss me, right?”
“Evidently.” I snag her apple-holding wrist and bring her snack closer. I want a bite. But I only want the section she’s already bitten into. “I would destroy cities to keep you with me. Haven’t I already convinced you of that?”
“So, these floozies who come from New York, trying to sidle in on my turf?” She hooks her finger in the wedding band hung around my neck, dragging me closer still. “Names. Addresses. General physical descriptions, please?”
Humored, I sneak a bite of her apple, then a kiss to her lips, so we both taste the juice on my tongue. “I deal with the riffraff on my own, Mrs. Malone. You needn’t worry your pretty little head about them.”
“I understand now why certain mob factions choose to fight for their share of the city.” She doesn’t release my ring. And I don’t release her wrist. But she takes a bite of the apple anyway and rolls her eyes toward the sky. “When a person becomes accustomed to a certain way of life, having particular people and perks belonging to them and only them…” Her lips curl into a smile. But it’s her throat I see, as she swallows, the movement an unintentional seduction. “Well… You’re my slice of the city, Archer.” She brings her focus down and stares into my eyes. “You’re my turf. And I’m not letting that go now that I’ve become accustomed to having you around.”
“Mob born, babe. I’ve always lived a Malone, and I’ll eventually die a Malone. I have no qualms protecting my assets.” I pinch her chin between my thumb and finger and drag her closer. “Felix protects harbor bays and transport lines. I’ll protect my vigilante.” I press a kiss to her lips and smile when she quivers under my touch. “I haven’t turned the stove on yet.” I release her wrist and slide my hand along her thigh instead, all the way to her panties, then beneath to cup her firm ass. “Wanna continue this thing where you seduce me? Or will I carry you to the bedroom and eat before we cook dinner?”
“Mmm.” She tosses her apple in the sink, so it bounces out again and smacks the backsplash behind the tap. “The second one. Please.”
ARCHER
“Alright.” Fletch stalks into our war room the next day, our case running into a Saturday and reminding us both we have no life outside of work. He tosses a stack of files on the table and snatches up a marker, uncapping it, and poising it in front of the whiteboard we’ve been working with since Thursday. “Officer Clay and I have spent the last few hours lining up interviews.” He turns to the board, shows me his back, and starts writing. “Karla Darling?—”
“The chick from the college admin office?”
“Yep.” He smacks a period at the end of her name before turning to meet my eyes. “She’s first up. Should be here any minute.”
I sit back in the chair my ass long ago molded to and regard my friend with a frown. “Suspect? I didn’t see it.”
“Nope. But she’s a student taking the same course as Adrianna. She’s a woman, which means she would get more insight into Adrianna’s personal life than, say, a random dude in the same class would. She’s also an admin, which means she knows everyone else in and out of that school. She’s Jones’ TA sometimes. She has a direct line to the dean, and she’s just cute enough to look innocent as hell.”
“Cute?” I skip everything else and focus on that one detail. “You scamming on the nineteen-year-old criminology student, Fletch? A bit young, even by your standards, no?”
