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“So you took tools into Paul’s—”
“Arch?” Fletcher stepped out of the interview room just a few minutes ago, but now he pokes his head back in and interrupts me so I come around with a frown. “I need to speak with you for a sec.”
“I’m busy,” I growl. “Clearly.”
“It’s important.” He opens the door wider and nods to gesture me past. “It’ll only take a minute.”
“Fine.” Turning back to Garret, I speak for the recorder. “Let the record show Detective Archer Malone is calling a five-minute break.” Then to Garret himself, “I’ll have a uniform come in. You can ask him for food or a drink or the bathroom or whatever you need. I won’t be long.”
“Where’s Gage?” As I stand, Garret starts to fuss in his chair. “What about Gage?”
Snatching the recorder from the table, I switch it off and drop it into my pocket. “He’s still sitting on ice in the next room. It’s important I get both of your stories independent of each other before we put you together again. We can’t risk you mixing details or influencing the other’s version of events. But once I get what we need from each of you, I promise I’ll bring him in here.”
“But we’re confessing anyway.” Garret searches my eyes with a desperation I’m not sure I understand.
To kill a man, and then walk into the police station and offer to tell the story… I’ve done only the first half of that.
Minka has done the equivalent of both.
“There’s nothing for you to lose,” he continues. “We’re confessing.”
“I still have to follow the rules. It’s just the way it is.”
Turning away, I step into the hall and gesture for a uniform to come closer. “He’s to stay in here at all times except if he needs the bathroom. If he does, you cuff and escort him. Stay away from Interview Room Two. And get him food or water if he requests it.”
“Yes, sir.”
Once the officer steps past me and into the room, Fletch starts forward and leads me to the middle of the pit, where a large television hangs bolted to the wall.
As it often is, it’s tuned to the news channel—and lucky me, I’m treated to a close-up view of Minka smiling and chatting on the front steps of this very fucking building.
“Why are you showing me this?” Scowling, I move to my desk and drop down to sit, but in my peripherals, I see her. I watch her. I snag an almost empty cup of coffee, take a sniff, and then a sip.What the fuck happened to her face?
“Mayor was sworn-in.” Fletch perches on the corner of my desk and watches the television, too. “It’s official. Are you going to the ball?”
Impatient now, I turn to him and snarl. “No, I’m not going to the ball. What the fuck do you think this is, a fairytale or some shit?”
“You get to wear a monkey suit,” he counters with a smirk. “You can take a date.”
“I don’t want a date.”
“I’m going with Aubs,” he singsongs. “She’ll wear a gown and heels and all sorts of pretty skin glitters. She’ll sex herself up, and I’ll gloat about the fact she’s on my arm and not Tim’s.”
“You wanna date her?” I set the coffee down and look past him to Minka talking to a couple I don’t recognize. “You inching closer to Doctor Emeri, Detective Fletcher?”
“No.” He brushes lint off his jeans and smirks. “But she needs an escort, and I need a date. If I ask a random chick, she’ll think we’re dating for real… and call me crazy, but I’m not ready for that kinda commitment. If I take Aubs, I get a night of fun, and no wedding demands the next day.”
“Did you consider that maybe Aubree is going with someone else? Or not going at all?”
“She is going.” He pushes off my desk and sets his hands on his hips. “And I heard Minka’s going too.”
“Don’t care. We aren’t together.”
“She’ll be wearing a gown.” He steps away from my desk, knowing we have to get back to our interview. “Heels as tall as skyscrapers, which will make her legs look like they never end.”
“Stop talking about her fucking legs,” I warn him. “Or I’ll snap yours off.”
