AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He knows it.
He’s terrified of it.
And he knows I dislike him enough to make it happen.
“I feel all gooey inside now that I got to ruin his Sunday, though.” Smiling, I come back to face the other two. “He’ll go to the bathroom and cry like a baby after this.”
“Never met a man more deserving of a little psychological warfare,” Fletch grits out. “He merits worse.”
“Come on.” I grab Minka’s elbow and turn away from our grouping. Marching toward Jones, I smile and pat the dog’s head when he bounces up and allows his tongue to loll out to the side. “We have other, more pressing matters to attend to right now, Mr. Jones.” I reach into my pocket and take out a business card, purely to shit him off. “Call me if you think of any details that may pertain to this case.”
As soon as he snatches it from my fingers, I wink. “Let’s go.”
“Wait.” He turns on his heels as we start away. “That’s it?”
“For now. Don’t leave the city.”
“You’re not bringing me in to interrogation?”
I turn and walk backwards. “Do you have a crime you’d like to confess to?”
“Well…” He’s all twisted up. I think Minka has almost convinced him he’s a guilty man. And now we’re walking away. Another bruise to his ego. “No. But I thought?—”
“Don’t do that. Think,” I add, as we stop by the car. I pull the back door open and blow a tiny air kiss for my wife as she slides in, then I turn to Jones and grin. “When stupid people think, they screw everything else up. Besides,” I reach up and tap my temple. “It hurts, right?”
“You’re an unkind individual.” As soon as I close the back door and slide into the front, Minka leans forward so her breath is on the back of my neck. “You used William Alves’ murder purely to upset a man who once bruised your ego. Do you think that makes you superior to him?”
“Nope.” I reach across and snag my seatbelt. “But it makes me happy. Put your belt on, Mayet.” I turn and meet her eyes. “Fletch has a tendency to drive rough.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Teasing, Fletch plops into the driver’s seat and turns the engine over. “I drive fine.”
MINKA
Ifollow the detectives through a building similar to the one I command, where most people wear white coats, and the noise around here is eerily quiet.
Like the morgue.
But there are no dead bodies inside this one. No cold slabs where we examine death.
There are far fewer glass walls. And there are no Aubree Emeris, stinking the place up with cute perfumes and big smiles.
I never thought I’d admit it, not out loud and not even to myself, but I prefer my building. I prefer Aubree’s happiness. Her light. Her cheery uniqueness. Even when she’s noisy and bouncing around with energy that far exceeds her caffeine consumption.
“Cardine.” Archer comes to a stop in front of an older man, his shirt a bright green beneath his stark-white coat, his chin covered in what I suppose is a goatee. Though it seems to be in an in-between phase. Not quite long enough, and yet, not short enough either. He wears large, black-frame glasses, and his lips are thick, heavy on the bottom and bowed on top. “You got the clothes from the Alves murder?”
“I do.” Doctor Cardine slips his hands into his coat pockets and grins. “And despite it being Sunday, I found it in my heart to be here for you.”
“Your heart?” Archer laughs. “Please. Now you’re telling lies. You don’t have one of those. Besides, you owe me.” He nods over the tech’s broad shoulders. “Show us what we’ve got?”
“Sure.” Snickering, Cardine turns on his heels, drops his head forward to watch his sneakers, then starts through halls that fill his building much like they do mine. He passes doors, and ignores the signs on each one, indicating the different facilities hidden behind. His staff smile for us as we file through. Some say hello. Others simply watch.
In our moment of not speaking, my mind wanders. I mean, it’s easy enough to understand how Archer knows Cardine. His work would have him here often. But he knows him on a more personal level. A friendship even. And Cardine owes Archer? What does he owe him? Why does he owe him? What did Archer do to create this debt?
My mind spirals out of control—Did Cardine make a deal with Archer Malone, the cop? Or are things more sinister?—but I know better than to ask. And even if I wanted to, Cardine brings us to a stop outside a dark brown wooden door and bounces his brows when our eyes meet.
“You ready for this?”
“Stop flirting with my wife, Ed.” Archer steps between us, cutting through my view until I see nothing but his broad back. But his soft chuckle softens his words until his friend sniggers. “Let us finish this case already.”
