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“Already did. Should be sitting in your inbox. Word around the station is you’re on a countdown, Malone. Two kills in two days. You’re halfway through day three.”
“Yup.” Gently pushing up to stand, careful not to toss Minka’s hand dismissively aside, I cradle the phone between my shoulder and ear and take out enough cash to pay for everyone’s lunch. “I’m doing my best here, McNamara. If I can get anyone else your way, are you available to me?”
“I’m just sitting here twiddling my thumbs.”
“I’ll be in contact.”
Releasing my phone and catching it before it hits the table, I look to Minka first. “We have to leave.” Then to Fletch. “We have a face. It’s shitty, it’s not accurate, but it’s the best we’ve got for now. I figure we can swing back to The Stitch and show it to the owner. Work our way toward the station until we run out of people to ask. Probably show it to Kiera’s partner, too. See if he knows it.”
Then I look at the clock on the wall and groan. “It’s gonna be dark by five. If he’s going for a third, he’ll do it once the streetlights come on.”
My phone bleats again, dragging a frustrated growl along my throat when Miranda London’s name flashes on the screen.
“It’s like she’s got a sixth fucking sense.”
“Who?” Standing beside me, Minka unashamedly peeks at my screen. “Miranda London is a contact in your phone?” Her eyes come up to mine. “You’re on a first-name basis with Channel 63’s prime time talent?”
“Ha!” Fletch chokes out. “He’s more than—”
“Had enough,” I cut in with a warning tone.
I send Miranda to voicemail and step around my chair to take Minka’s forearm in my hand. I wait while she bends and collects her new bag, then I lead her out of the restaurant and back onto the busy street.
“We’re going to the car. And you’re going somewhere thatisn’tthe next logical step a detective might take to solve a crime.”
“So you’re suggesting we should remainillogical?” Aubree teases. “Becauseillogically, I guess we could hit up the next boutique along this street. Betcha our killer is in there, buying a purse.”
“Knowing your luck, you’re probably right.” Bringing a hand up to scrub over my face, I drop it again and scowl at Minka. “If you insist on making me worry about you hunting down a killer, I’m gonna be forced to do some non-conformant shit to keep you in line.”
She only rolls her eyes. “You keep pretending you control the universe, Malone. The rest of us will continue living in it.” She looks to Aubree and tips her head toward the George Stanley. “Let’s go back to work. See if we can solve this crime before they can.”
“Yeah,” Fletch play-sneers. “Go find some perp hair or skin or some shit on our victims. Do your damn job, woman.”
When I might’ve expected Minka to be put out by his words, she surprises me with a shake of her head and a beautiful pop of her dimples that shoots electricity straight to my cock. “You’ve found a new low, Detective Fletcher. Do better.” Turning on her heels, she pulls Aubree into step and peeks over her shoulder. “Be better.”
Then she moves out of my life, swallowed up by the bustling crowd of Copeland City’s corporate elite.
For now.
Until next time.
On my left, Fletcher coughs out a laugh and brings my attention back to him. “It’s cute how you’re fucking putty for that woman but you’re pretending not to be.”
“I’m not putty.” Scowling, I fall into step beside him and walk in the opposite direction the girls went. “I’ve never in my life been putty for any woman.”
“Until she got off Flight 663.”
“Flight 353, asshole. Doesn’t make me putty.”
“If someone shoved her into traffic right now and ended her life?”
I drop my hand to my gun and twist back to make sure no one is shoving her into traffic. My heart speeds and my palms turn clammy, because Minka’s blood doesn’t clot, and a slight clip by a messenger bike could be catastrophic for her. “I’ll kill whoever hurts her.”
“And if she decides she doesn’t wanna spend time with you anymore because she found Ken from accounting and thinks he’s better for her?”
My lips peel back into a feral snarl that has commuters stepping a wide arc around us. “Then Ken dies, and I remind Minka I’m the best she’ll ever get. Because I’m the only fucking option she gets to explore.”
Snickering, my partner grabs my sleeve and tugs me back in the direction we should be walking. “Your obsession is also known as putty, Arch. You’re straight-up gooey for that woman—and the coolest part is, she’s legit more badass than you. I’m genuinely considering tossing you aside and asking her to be my best friend instead.”
