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He takes that in, nods, then gives me a sidelong glance after he takes a turn in the road. “Seems to me you’re mixed up in some shit, my friend. We’ve got to search that apartment.”
I nod, grateful he’s taking this seriously. “I figured as much. We can get Leonard and Burke to help us.”
“I’ll call in the P.I. I work with—Deacon Montgomery. Burke knows the guy. He’ll have a better idea of what to look for.”
I know Mira will glare at me for saying this next part, but I go ahead and say it anyway. “We need to get Mira out.”
“Excuse me?” she squawks from the backseat. “I already told you I’m not going anywhere.”
To my surprise, Shane shakes his head. “No, man. You’ve got an undercover cop watching you. You can’t change your routine just after you were brought into the station. He’ll know he’s been made. We have to find out what he wants, and make sure it’s not you behind bars.”
“I won’t let anything happen to her,” I say.
“Excuse me,” Mira says, obviously pissed. “I’m here, and I have a right to have a say in this conversation and not be treated like furniture.”
I turn in my seat and glance back at her. She looks like she wants to immolate me with the fire of a thousand suns. I’d let her. It’s a stupid thought, but I’m having a stupid day—might as well be consistent. “Okay. I won’t let anything happen toyou.”
“So don’t,” she says. “But it’ll be within the framework of me staying in the apartment, because I’m not leaving.”
She looks like she’d stomp her foot if we were standing…and if she had a foot to spare.
I’m tempted to remind her about what she said last night—if we’re going to explore what’s between us, one of us needs to move. Obviously, I’m not going anywhere if I’m at the center of this shit hurricane. The last thing I want is for Big Mike or the wool lady to pay a visit while Mira is alone in the apartment. That’s un-fucking-acceptable, obviously.
But if I tell her that, she might say I’m the one who said I’d go. So I decide to shut my mouth, for now.
I look out the windshield. The glimmer of my car is just up ahead, so at least no one’s stolen it. After parking behind it, Shane squints at it for a moment. “You think there’s some kind of tracker on it? Could Dunkins have come looking for you?”
Mira surprises me by bursting out laughing. “No way,” she says. “I’m pretty sure there would be no manufacturing that look of surprise.”
Shane gives me another sidelong glance, his hand lifting to his chin. In my head, I can hear Ruthie telling me this is his ambulance chaser pose, the one he’ll get put on billboards someday. She even came up with a slogan for him:Got in an accident? Call Shane, he’ll make it rain.
“What the fuck happened out there, anyway?” he says, snapping me out of the memory.
“You already know more than I’d like you to,” I mutter. “And I’m sure you can guess the rest. I agree that the officer was surprised. Besides, I don’t know why they’d send him looking for us if Big Mike didn’t want us to see him at the station.”
Is Big Mike even his name?
Probably not, which means he chose to call himself Big Mike. It’s a funny thought, and I find myself smiling, even though this is not a smiling situation.
Shane nods thoughtfully. “Yeah, but I’d still like to have Deacon take a look at the car and the apartment.”
“Me too.”
“And you need to fill the guys in. I agree that it’s unlikely this has anything to do with the Burkes, but Big Mike referred to them by name.”
“Does this mean we’re having a party?” Mira asks, sounding much too happy about it.
“If you consider it a celebratory occasion that our friends are coming over to make sure we’re not being spied on by Big Brother, sure,” I say, opening my door so I can help her out.
“Oh, Danny,” she says with a smile that lights something up inside of me. “If you know what you’re doing, you can make anything a party.”
She probably didn’t mean for it to sound like a threat.
ChapterTwenty-Two
Danny
Acouple of hours later, Mira and I are hanging out at the kitchen island while Shane’s P.I. searches the apartment. He’s already checked the car and declared it free of tracking devices, which is a relief for both me and whoever would have been given the tedious job of tracking me. Now, he’s in my bedroom, where he’s spent at least fifteen minutes, making me worry that someone has been watching or listening to all of the jerking off I’ve been doing since Mira moved in.
