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Fletch’s simple question makes me jump in my chair and slam the top of my knee against the underside of my desk.
Chuckling under his breath, since it’s rare a man can walk up on me without my knowledge, he wanders around to my side and takes a peek at the old news articles and police reports on my screen.
“That’s…” He stares for a long moment while my heart thuds in my throat and I hurriedly tidy up the notes spread out in front of me. “Not nearly as exciting as I expected.” He claps me on the shoulder and leans across to perch his ass on my desk. “With how guilty you look right now, I was totally expecting porn.”
“No, I’m just…” I close the dozen windows I have open and press my thumbs to my temples to stave off the burn of exhaustion. “Checking out an old cold case.”
“Because you enjoy tackling someone else’s caseload and still not catching your guy?” His eyes were sharper than he let on, because he adds, “A twenty-three-year-old abduction, Arch. What the fuck are you doing?”
“Just looking.” I push away from my desk and lean back in my chair. “I was told to check it out for a little light reading.”
“Light.” He rolls his bottom lip between his fingers. “Does it play into anything we have on-deck right now?”
“No.” I tilt my neck to work out the kinks after bending over a computer for hours. “Nothing to do with our current caseload. How’d you do with Gage?”
“Same story as Garret. Not so much that they practiced it, but similar enough for me to be pretty fuckin’ sure they were in the same house on the same night, and committed the same crime using different weapons.” He folds his arms across his chest and sighs. “But they’re not rushing the story forward for me. They’re not racing toward the finish line.”
“Where’d you get up to?”
“They’re in his room.” Fletch stares across the pit, floating in his mind and thinking about a dozen different things at once. “They’ve got McGregor tied to the bedposts and they’ve shoved underwear in his mouth to muffle his screams.”
“Shit,” I breathe out. “Even then, it would’ve been pretty noisy. If you’re dying, tortured and brutalized, you’re gonna learn new volumes at which you can scream.”
Fletch only shrugs. “Gage is telling it pretty fucking calmly, too. He’s not happy, he’s not sad. He’s not rushed, and I’m not having to force him. He’s just…” He tilts his head. “At his leisure.”
“Cold.” Leaning forward, I shut my computer screen off and exhale a lungful of air past my hands. “Alright. I’m gonna head in and take a couple of hours with Gage. See what comes next. You need a break?”
“Yeah.” He sucks air between his teeth and turns to meet my eyes. “I’m gonna go over to Jada’s for a minute. She needs me to—”
“You don’t even have to explain it.” Clapping him on the arm, I push up to stand and wait while he moves to his feet too.
“I hope she’s doing well. Truly.” I fake a gentle smile and know my partner hurts probably ninety percent of the time from when he wakes till when he sleeps again at night. “Tell her I said hey, if you think it’s suitable.”
“Yeah.” Stepping away from my desk, he moves to his and snags his coat. “I’ll be back in a couple.”
“No rush.”
“I’ll bring food.”
I choke out a laugh. “In that case, hurry.”
Dropping my hand onto his head in a rare sign of tenderness between partners, I ruffle his hair, and grin when his pained eyes flicker to mine. “You’ve got this. Go. Have fun.”
