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“He doesn’t like women,” he murmurs softly. “I’ve dealt with him enough over the years to know that Laramie’s a staunch advocate of hating all women. He’ll harass you in that interview room, Doctor. He’ll bait you and taunt you, and when he hurts your feelings, he’ll take the satisfaction it gives him and swallow it down like nectar.”
“You assume I’ll go in there with feelings to be hurt.” Bending, I slip my second shoe on. “You wouldn’t think to give that warning to a male, would you, Detective?”
“Well, no,” he answers. “Because Fentone doesn’t rape and kill men. His passion for pain extends only toward the female variety.”
“And my passion for justice means I can’t be baited.” Pushing up tall, I hold my phone again and snag the keys from the bowl at the door. “I’d like to insist, Detective Franklin. Let me in that room. Let me look into his eyes when he answers your questions. I assure you, I won’t walk out with hurt feelings.”
“Fine.” Drawing a deep breath, he releases it so I hear the whistle in his lungs.Smoker? A subtle touch of bronchitis?“He starts work at six in the morning, so I intend to swing by the warehouse around seven and bring him in. Is that too early for you?”
“No.” Opening my door, I snag Archer’s coat as a last-minute thought, then I head into the hall and pull the door closed at my back. “I’ll be at your station at seven. I have things to do in the afternoon, so hopefully we’ll get what we need before I have to duck out.”
“Sure,” he drawls in return. “We’ll keep to your social schedule, Chief. No problem.”
I start down the stairs at a brisk pace and drop my free hand into the pocket of my coat. “You have your own prejudices against women, Detective. Are you aware of that? Social schedules, emotions, almost barring my attendance based purely on the fact a suspectmightbe mean to me.”
“It’s called protecting the softer members of society, Doctor. Where I come from, that’s called chivalry.”
I scoff and skip off the bottom stair of my building. My landlord, the sweet and elderly Steve, waits by the door the way he always does, and greets me with a bright smile when our eyes meet.
“Well, where I come from,” I wink for Steve, accept his gentle kiss on my cheek as I pass, then his silent wave as I move onto the sidewalk outside. “Which is Copeland, in the year two thousand and twenty-two, it’s called pandering, sexist, and prejudiced. I don’t recall a single of my female colleagues punching a wall in anger, Detective. But I assure you, I’ve seen these less emotional, moreablemen you speak of do that.”
“You misinterpret my inte—”
“Uh-huh. I’ll see you at seven in the morning, Detective Franklin. Bright, early, unemotional, and able to stand up to a big bully. For now,” I rush from one block to the next, “I’m going to my office, and I’m going to pull Chelsea and Bella out of their fridges. I’m going to put them side by side, and then I’m going to work them until I find something that can tie Fentone to our case. When this goes to trial, we’ll have irrefutable proof of that man’s guilt.”
“Good. Fine. I’ll see you in the morning, Doctor. I appreciate your candor and dedication to this case.”
“Yeah.” Rolling my eyes, I lower the phone and check the screen to make sure the call ends, then dialing another number, I bring the device back up to my ear.
“Hey,” Aubree’s cheerful tone brings my mood back around. “What’s up, Bestie?”
My lips curl to the side. “You need to come back to work. We’re not done for the day.Bestie.”
“Aw man!” Wherever she is—on a couch, or maybe on a bed—she flops back and exhales. “My dinner just arrived. I didn’t even get to unwrap it yet.”
“So eat and walk.” Coming up to the glass revolving entrance of the George Stanley, I tap the window and catch security’s eyes to release the doors and let me in. “Actually, bring me food, too. I forgot to eat, and now you’ve reminded me.”
“Oh wow,” she taunts. “Call me surprised. Doctor Mayet didn’t eat again. What do you want?”
On the other side of the glass wall, the guard, dressed all in black and equipped with a flashlight bigger than my arm, wanders closer and releases the doors. With an appreciative smile, I push through and ignore the way his eyes drop to my yoga pants and Archer’s coat.
I look a treat, I’m sure.
“What did you order?” I ask Aubree.
“Burritos,” she answers. “Spicy.”
“I want that.” Hitting the elevator call button, I step inside when the doors slide open, then I turn back and select the second floor. “Come to the fridges. Bring a jacket. We’re not leaving till we find proof that Fentone hurt those little girls, so make sure you bring coffee too.”
“You’re such a buzzkill,” she whines. Yet, she moves through her apartment. Grabbing keys. Opening doors. “You’re not nearly as much fun when you’re pining for your Malone.”
I snicker. “Now you know what I’ve been dealing with for months. Besides, I’m never fun. I’manti-fun, so if I find out you’re having too much of it while working with dead people, then I’ll have to adjust your duties until you’re appropriately miserable.”
When the elevator opens on the second floor, I step off and make my way to the check-in desk, where I key in my security clearance code. “I talked to my Malone today, by the way. If you hurry with my dinner, I’ll tell you the gossip I heard about Tim defending your honor.”
She gasps. “What?”
“Hurry,” I tease. “Run, and I’ll tell you everything.”
