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“Miranda London.” I sit back and cross my left leg over the right. “She did something to piss you off. And before you tell me I’m wrong,” I lift my hand when she opens her mouth to speak, “let me assure you, I consider myself skilled at reading people. You’re one of the easiest.”
“I am?”
“Mm. You’re the perfect professional. You dress perfectly. Your hair is perfect. Your work ethic is perfect, your files, your performance evaluations, your nails, your entire being is professional and perfect.”
A single line forms between her eyes. “So…?”
“But you got real personal about Miranda London just now. You know her on a personal level. She’swrongedyou on a personal level. So I’m just asking what that thing is.”
Warmth spreads through Seraphina’s cheeks. “She, uh, slept with my fiancé a couple years back.”
I grit my teeth and work hard not to smile. “Ex-fiancé, I hope.”
“Yes, Doctor. He was my ex before I got out of his apartment just a minute later. The wedding was called off, the gifts returned, and I’ve given myself over to work ever since.”
“He sucks for doing that to you. And she sucks for participating in that bullshit.” Nodding toward my door, I release her to go back to work. “You’re better off without them. And any guy who would take her to bed when he had you at home is a fool.”
I smile when she stops at the door. “Shake him off. He’s a lame duck.”
Finally, her grin comes too and pushes away the bitterness in her eyes from moments ago. “Yes, Doctor. I shook him off a long time ago. Now they’re both someone else’s problem.”
* * *
At just before three, Aubree lets herself into my office with a printout and slaps it on my desk with enoughPOWto make me jump.
Glancing up slowly, I sit back in my chair and meet her gaze. “Was that necessary?”
“Was what necessary?” Dragging my visitor chair closer again, she parks her ass on the corner of my desk and her feet on the chair. “Fletch sent me that sketch they were waiting for.”
“Okay. But you didn’t have to slap it down and break my concentration.” With a shake of my head, I reach forward and take the sheet of paper.
I have tox reports on my brain, theories coalescing in my mind as I consider Archer’s case, but the moment I turn the paper over, my eyes narrow. “Who is this?”
“He’s our killer.” She helps herself to my half-empty coffee cup and sips on what turned cold an hour ago. Wrinkling her nose, she looks to me with lips twisted in distaste. “Are you good with faces? Because this one is tweaking at the edge of my brain, but I can’t place him.”
“He’s tweaking at mine, too.”
Setting the sheet of paper down, I snag another from my drawer and place it over half of the sketch. I essentially slice him down the middle and study just one half. One eye, one half of his lips, one ear, one cheek.
My stomach twists as I follow the line of his jaw. Beneath the implied skin in the sketch, I see bones. I see the structural makeup of his face. The way his chin is slightly pointed, and his nose is the same. I see the half-closed eye, lazy with the way he watches people. His lashes are long, and his brows aren’t particularly thick.
His cheekbones aren’t pronounced in this drawing, but my instincts tell me that in real life, they are.
His neck is narrow, his shoulders thin.
My phone trills on my desk and makes me startle a second time, but before I can answer it, Aubree reaches across and hits speaker. “Minka Mayet’s office.”
“Doctor Mayet,” Seraphina’s voice comes through the line. “The incoming mayor is in the building. On his way up to see you.”
“Alright, thanks.”
Pulling in a deep breath, I look down and make certain my outfit is neat and my hair is pushed back. Sitting taller in my chair, it’s not until I decide I’m presentable that I remember Aubree’s ass is on my desk.
“Get off.” I shove her forward and school my expression when she stumbles with a squeal and almost falls. “Get out.”
“Why are you nervous?” She sets my coffee mug down and fixes her top with a huff. “You thinking of tossing Malone aside and dating the mayor instead?”
“Unprofessional and inappropriate.” I push up to stand as the elevator light flashes across the floor and alerts me that he’s inside and getting closer. “He’s our boss, dummy. And I kinda killed the last one. So if you want a pay increase, it’s best if I convince him we’re worthy of our jobs.”
