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“Oh my gosh.” I look back to the first and snatch her offered quiche. “What a small world. Why are you here, Detective?”
“The mayor is a family friend.” She flashes a devious grin and winks when the doors open at my back. “I always wanted to be mayor of a big city. This is a fantastic consolation prize.”
“And she’s finally arrived!” His voice, Mayor Lawrence’s playful taunting, echoes through the sound system and precedes a chorus of applause as I slowly spin in place and work hard not to look as horrified as I feel.
Hundreds, perhaps thousands of guests in sparkling gowns and pressed suits, expensive diamonds and, sure enough, a small fortune spent on hair and makeup, stand from their seats and turn to me to give applause.
“Chief Medical Examiner, Doctor Mayet. Won’t you please join me up here?”
“What?” Confused, I look to Aubree and plead for clarity. “What’s—”
“Let’s go.” She slides her arm around mine and gently tugs me forward. “Just act natural,” she whispers. “Be cool. Stop freaking out.”
“I don’t understand—”
“It’s gonna be fine. I promise. But you need to cross this room and greet the mayor onstage to get your award. Probably ditch the quiche somewhere along the way.”
“My award?” A million thoughts zing through my brain, but not one of them makes sense as we push through the dozens of round tables filled to the brim with beautiful people. “What the hell am I getting an award for?”
“Beats me, Mayet.” She maintains her smile for those taking pictures, but her words convince me she’s as clueless as I. “I was told to get you here, so I’m getting you here.”
“He said I could stay home,” I whimper, slowing my steps, only for Aubree’s grip to grow stronger. “He said it was fine.”
“He has daughters our age. He probably thought reverse psychology would work. Come now,” she makes weird clickingsounds in her throat, like I’m a racehorse refusing to step up to the gate. “You’ve got this.”
“I don’t want this,” I growl under my breath. “Aubree Emeri. I don’t consent to this.”
“Would you have ever consented?” she challenges, bringing us close enough to the stage for the lights to stop blinding me, and my gaze to pause on the man also standing in front of everyone.
“Mayet?” she asks again. “If this was planned and you were properly involved, would you have come?”
“Absolutely not.” I move up the stairs at stage right and pass close enough to have that sinful aftershave fill my lungs. “Archer, what—”
“I didn’t plan this,” he cuts in quickly. “I didn’t want it. I don’t like it.”
“What the hell is—”
“I need to speak to you before we’re done tonight.” He reaches out and snags my wrist, but I place the quiche in his hand and stumble in my heels as Aubree drags me along.
She’s presenting me to Lawrence like I’m a pig, fattened for market.
“Don’t leave without finding me,” Archer demands behind me. “I mean it.”
“Doctor Mayet!” Justin Lawrence, the new mayor of Copeland City and a former district attorney, tugs me in for a gentle hug the moment Aubree releases me. “Welcome to our big evening.”
“Our?” I don’t hug the man back, and I don’t linger in his attempt at an embrace, even as camerassnick-snick-snickaround us. “How can this possibly be our—”
“Lemons.” Moving back, he places in my hand a shiny gold pin that makes the audience clap just that little bit louder. “Lemonade,” he says to me. Then into the microphone, “Doctor Mayet, as the newly appointed mayor of Copeland City, my very first order of business is to present to you a medal of valor.”
Stunned, I look down at the glitter in my palm. “I don’t—”
“At the first sign of trouble in your new position in our city, even when you have genuine reasons to keep yourself safe, instead of running and delegating to the authorities to deal with a rogue killer inside your building, instead of leaving your staff to fend for themselves, instead of removing yourself from the danger a mentally ill man posed, you stepped forward and protected those you represent.” Lawrence puts on a show of tilting his head and bowing. “You deserve this and so much more for your bravery, Doctor Mayet. As does the illustrious and equally courageous Detective Malone.”
Lowering his microphone again, Lawrence leans forward to whisper, “After tonight, you cease to be a mayor-killer, and instead, we label you brave.” Pulling back, he winks, while still, I remain speechless and stupid. “Both are true, but one is woeful for public relations.”
Turning back to the crowd, he steps between me and Archer, and smiles for the cameras. “Ladies and gentlemen, Detective Archer Malone and Chief Medical Examiner Minka Mayet. They represent our fair city, and it would be wrong of me not to give these heroes the recognition they deserve.”
