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She turns on her heels and snags the bag she and Aubree always carry onto a crime scene, containing tools, recorders, gloves and all sorts of other shit. She tears the zipper closed and yanks the heavy bag up off the ground.
“You’re the one who got busy first, Archer. You got busy, you got pissy about the mayor thing, you stopped being around, and then word spread you found someone else to spend your time with. I’m not the kind who’s gonna cry about that.”
Fixing the collar of her coat with fingers verging toward blue, she brings her icy gaze to me. “I’m not gonna cry about you bedding someone else. But I’m not gonna hang around and be made to look like a fool, either.”
“No one would ever accuse you of being a fool.” I steal her heavy bag and sling it onto my shoulder, then I thrust my still full coffee into her hands until she takes it. “Warm up before you kill yourself, stupid. Are you heading in now?”
Cupping the coffee in both hands, Minka firms her supple lips. “Just as soon as transport gets here. I’m not walking away until she’s moved.”
“Once you get her in and find the answers we need, can you let me know?” I soften my voice. I don’twantto fight with this woman, and I sure as fuck don’t want to piss her off and lose another couple of weeks of what I’m damn sure means something. “She was a friend, Minka. She didn’t deserve this.”
“She’s mine now.”
At the sound of footsteps in the dark, Minka turns to Aubree and Fletcher as they approach. “Did you call transport?”
“They’re a couple minutes out,” Fletcher answers. Then he grins. “Doctor Delicious. You’re looking pretty fresh tonight.”
“I don’t even know if that’s supposed to be a compliment.” She looks to Aubree, clueless. “Is he flirting? Or is he insulting me?”
“Pretty sure he thinks you’re the prettiest thing on this side of the precinct.” Aubree smirks and brings her attention to me. “Witness is losing her shit in the cruiser, so the uniforms wanna take her to the hospital. That’s on you and Detective Fletcher to approve.”
“Transpo are here now.” Minka glances to her left, past me, like I’m nothing more than a tree. “Let’s load her up and get her someplace warmer.” Finally, her eyes come to mine. “I’ll do the job, Archer. See you tomorrow sometime.”
“I’ll be a few hours behind you.” I take the bag from my shoulder—not because I don’t want to carry it for her, but because she has to go one way, and I have to go another. The longer I stay here with her, the colder my case gets. “I’ll swing by after the sun has come up.”
“Alright.” She glances down at her coffee. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” I look at Fletcher and tilt my head to the right. “Let’s go talk to the friend.”
