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“Mayet?”
“You want me to confirm your killer is probably a doctor,” she snarls. “You want me to say it out loud so you can feel less guilty about hunting one down.”
“Well…? In your professional opinion, is our killer a doctor?”
“Doctors make a vow to cause no harm. Promises are made, Archer. Those promises are supposed to be unbreakable.”
“Lots of people make promises every day.” I push off the wall and follow her out of the autopsy room. “Doctors are human too, and humans lie.”
“Your killer is probably a doctor.” She spits the words out and storms toward her office. “Put Corrigan away for me, Aubs.” She taps her colleague’s shoulder as she passes. “Please.” Then she shoves through her office door and moves to her desk so she can take up her position of power.
It’s where she goes when we’re on opposing sides of professional matters.
“At the very least, a veterinarian, a nurse, a military medic, or something in between. Whoever took Corrigan’s heart knew what they were doing, they did it cleanly, they killed clinically, with an intravenous morphine overdose, then they took the organ. He didn’t suffer.” She drops into her chair and exhales a frustrated sigh. “But he died, and before this, he was entirely healthy.”
“Someone with some variation of medical training purposely killed Jesse Corrigan?”
Her eyes burn with anger. Her jaw flexes with rage, and her knuckles turn white from the force with which she clenches her fists. But I know her anger isn’t pointed at me. “Yes,” she finally grits out. “That is the direction I would look. Start with the medical professionals Corrigan was connected to, then fan your way out. You’ll find your killer somewhere in that net.”
“Thanks.” Stepping toward her desk and placing my hands on the mahogany top, I lean closer until I can taste her sweet breath on my tongue. “You shouldn’t take this so personally, Minka. It’s a case. We work them every single day.”
“It’s a doctor,” she growls in response. “One who promised to cause no harm. Hekilledthat man, Archer. And for what? Money? To play God? To give that organ to someone they consider more worthy than Corrigan himself?”
“Stop taking it so personally.” I press a kiss to her cheek, startling her from her rage, so instead of focusing on that, she wrenches her neck and looks through the glass wall that separates her from the rest of her staff.
God forbid one of her underlings witness her vulnerable side.
“It’s some other doctor,” I continue. “Someone you don’t even know. It’s not your responsibility to carry his or her crime on your shoulders. It’s not your burden to carry.”
“I’ma doctor,” she breathes. Bringing her gaze back to me, she meets mine with a steely glare. “I’vekilled.”
I push up straight and set my hands on my hips. “Don’t compare. It’s not the same.”
“But it is the same.” Sitting back in her chair, she laces her fingers together and stills them. Because without her control, I think we both worry they’ll shake. “I’ve taken lives, Archer. I’ve killed, and not only in self-defense.”
“What do you want me to say?” I throw my hands up, only to hiss when my injured shoulder aches from the movement. “I don’t love that you did those things. I’m a cop, Minka, and I know of capital crimes you’ve committed.” I lower my voice to barely more than a whisper. “I know things that could send us both away. But I will not punish you for them. I won’t tell a fucking soul. And I won’t ride you about them so you destroy yourself with guilt.”
“I killed killers,” she murmurs. “Pedophiles. Rapists.” She looks down. “I’m not sorry for what I did.”
“Then why are we even discussing it? Why are you putting yourself and Corrigan’s killer in the same conversation?”
“Because maybe Corrigan’s killer thinks they’re doing the right thing, too.” Pausing for a moment of quiet contemplation, she licks her lips and swallows. “The Copeland City vigilante has been quiet, Archer. They’ve stayed out of the news since January.”
“Because she’s been busy right here, withme,” I snarl.. “Not putting herself in unnecessary danger.”
“Archer—”
“And if you think Corrigan’s killer is stepping up to take the vigilante’s place, like some kind of modern-day fucking hero who takes the law into his own hands and decides who lives and dies, then you best believe I’m gonna stop him.”
“Hey, Arch?”
I spin when the door opens at my back. Fletch enters with a smile, but stops in place and looks from me to Minka.
The longer he studies us, the flatter his lips become. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“Nothing.” Twisting back to Minka, I meet her chocolate brown stare.Not a fucking word.If telepathy between husband and wife is a thing, let it work now.Not a word in front of the other cop who will beforcedto report that shit. “Is there anything else we need to know about Jesse Corrigan before we go, Doctor Mayet? Anything that could help us run our case?”
“DoctorMayet?” Fletch whistles under his breath. “Cheese and rice, there’s some tension in this office.”
