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“Lieu—”
“He took their eyes.”
And there it is. My stomach drops into my asshole, and that life I was so fucking sure was secure comes tumbling down.
Were we too loud? Too exposed? Did we bring them here because I’m flouting a fucking relationship and Minka is high-profile enough to have a mayor practically in her pocket?
Was Tim right all along?
“You told me what you told me in confidence, Detective. You’ve proven yourself time and time again, and I’m a firm believer in the fact that blood relation does not implicate a man in his kin’s crimes. You’re not the same person they are, and their actions are not your fault. But you can’t expect me not to make this phone call.”
“So you…” My voice trembles, while on my brow, sweat beads free. “You think it’s a Malone?”
“I think coincidences rarely exist. I think, somehow, in some capacity, each of these victims had dealings with a certain crime family in New York. And because of it, they’re now dead. I also know you’re friendly with a certain chief medical examiner, and she just so happens to be current M.E. on more than one of those cases.”
He pauses for a moment. “The first is easy for me to know, because I take a personal interest in keeping an eye on you, Detective. The second… is public record.”
“So you… Do you…” Fraying at the edges, I bring a hand up to rub my face. “Fuck, Lieutenant.”
“Go about your business,” he says gently. “I had to make the call. You know I did. But I have no intention of lending you out to work the case, nor will I leave you exposed if anyone should come looking. If this turns out to be related to that particular family, I’ll keep you close and the names unconnected. If I’m wrong and midtown slaps it on someone else, then we go back to our lives and move on.”
Hanging up after another moment, I remain leaning against the car, my elbows on the roof, my heart in my throat, and my stomach slick with nerves.
“Shake it off.” Fletch draws a deep breath and bounces his shoulders. “Malones aren’t the only assholes who kill people. And who knows,” he forces a faux grin, “maybe the vics were already missing their eyes, and Fox is just too stupid to tell the difference.”
A chuckle rolls along my chest and up through my throat. He’s talking bullshit. We both know it, just as we both know a third Malone is in Copeland.
But that’s not our case, and for right now, we still have a baby to find.
“You told Fabian you think you know who killed Melissa.” He comes around the car and claps me on the back to get me moving.
Get back to work. Refocus and figure this shit out.
“You still on Anton?”
“Yeah.”
Concentrating on my breathing, I snag my phone from the roof of the car and open the screen again to the text box. Pulling up Minka’s name, I quickly type out a message.
Stay low. I mean it. Some bad shit’s about to go down, and you and I are way too exposed for it not to find you. Stay in contact. Stay inside the George Stanley. Don’t talk to any strange men. And if anyone asks, tell them you hate my fucking guts and wish I’d leave you alone. I love you.
“You okay?” Fletch watches over my shoulder as I hit send. “If Fabian is right, this guy’s been here for weeks already. There’s no need to panic right now.”
“It’s not panic.” Switching off the screen, I slide the phone into my pocket and glance across to my friend. “It’s precaution. It’d do you well to make sure your house is secure too. You’re not me, so you’re already safer, but Malones are gonna find out really fucking fast that you and Moo mean something to me. Make sure she’s secure.”
“She’s inside the precinct today.” He starts toward the salon, but I see in his stare, in his stance, the way he takes my warning seriously. “She’s protected by about three hundred other cops. She’s as safe as she’s gonna be. And Minka’s inside a building covered with surveillance.” He stops at Diva’s door and holds it for me. “Everyone we love is safe. So now we do the job.”
“Yeah.”
Stepping in and waiting for the door to close at our backs, I stop by the front desk and take out my badge when Trudy makes her way into view. “Hi, it’s Detective Archer Malone from Copeland PD again.”
“Of course.” She waves off my badge and leans against the desk. “Have you come with news?”
“More questions, actually.” Setting my badge back on my belt, I study the woman’s eyes and wonder how much she actually knows is happening right in front of her. “We figure, girls speak to each other, right? They tell their secrets.”
“Girls?” She raises a single, challenging brow. “Or women?”
“Either.” I shrug. “Both. We want to talk to you about Melissa’s dating life beyond Anton and Stanley.”
