Page 20 of Darkness

“I’m not familiar with the distinctions between officer ranks, but Piper says you’re who I want.”

Morrisey gave the raised-eyebrow glare known to back off most of the force—he’d practiced Gaskins’s scowl in the mirror. At least the woman didn’t have horns or a tail—yet. “Who the hell is Piper?”

This time, the woman’s smile turned bittersweet. She moved her hand before Morrisey determined the emotional shift. “Again, it’s complicated.”

“Try me.” Not that Morrisey’s state of mind made working out even simple tasks easy, let alone complicated ones. “I eat complicated for breakfast.”

The woman flashed a toothy grin. “I’ll bet you say that to all the girls. Allow me to introduce myself. You may call me Jessalain. Jessa, or Jess, since humans tend to give their kids names, then call them by a nickname. Never quite made sense to me. If you name them right, one will do.”

“Humans?”

A hint of blush colored the wo… Jessa’s cheek. “Piper is my host.”

Why should Morrisey care who Jessa lived with? “Cut the crap. What do you want with me? You might as well scamper off on your four-inch stilettos now if it's anything out of my billfold.”

Jessa’s laugh tinkled like chimes. "Oh, I'm definitely going to like you, Detective James."

The chimes changed to alarm bells in Morrisey’s mind. He gave Jessa his best intimidating side-eye. “How do you know who I am?”

“Word gets around. Aren’t you the officer who shot the dem… man in the alley two blocks from here?”

Had Morrisey actually wandered so close without realizing? As if drawn. No. Just… no. “What if I am?” What did this woman honestly want? Morrisey slipped a hand under his jacket. Damn! He hadn’t gone to the precinct to retrieve Agnes yet—if they let him have her back. More than likely, they’d issue him a new gun. What number Agnes did this make? Six? Seven? Eight? .

The prospect of seeing that spot at the curb and not seeing Will kept Morrisey at home.

Maybe he should start carrying his personal gun.

Jessa leaned with her forearms against the bar. “I assure you, I’m not a threat. In fact, I’m here to help.”

Morrisey recited the same spiel he’d given many times. “If you need a cop, stop by the precinct or call 9-1-1. I’m off duty.” This woman didn’t need to know about his administrative leave pending investigation.

Jessa twisted her beautiful face in disgust. “They wouldn’t understand.”

“And I would?” Tonight, Morrisey’s mission was to render himself unable to understand anything.

“You will.” She took a sip from a wine glass he swore wasn’t there a moment ago.

“Stop talking crap, or I’m out of here.” Morrisey tossed a twenty onto the bar. Chances were, she’d charged her drink to him. He rose to leave.

Once more, Jessa placed her slender fingers on his arm. A tiny spark flared between them, but not sexual. The desperation he’d felt earlier now laced her tone, cracking open her confident act. She squinted her eyes shut. “My apologies. It’s not my nature to speak plainly. I’m trying. Piper is helping.”

Again, with Piper. Jessa’s lover, maybe? “I only understand plain, so try harder.”

Jessa opened her eyes but kept her gaze cast downward. “My circle of friends is quite limited. I’ve never had any until I arrived here. One by one, they’re going missing or being found dead. I need your help to find out what’s happening to them.”

Morrisey hadn’t handled missing person cases in years—not until the missing turned up dead. “Lady, again, contact the precinct or hire a private investigator to report a missing person.”

Jessa squeezed Morrisey’s arm ever so slightly. Her desperation rose to sheer panic. "I don’t know who I can trust or who'll even believe me, but after what happened the other day, you're starting to understand. And if you must know, I have doubts about your kind, but to put it bluntly, you’re my only hope.”

“Say what now?”

Jessa rolled her eyes. “You’re my last resort.”

Morrisey had become quite accustomed to being someone’s last resort, but mostly on hookup apps. "What are you implying with 'my kind'? Cop? Man? Gay?” He arched a brow. He wouldn’t waste time on haters. He got enough prejudice on the job.

The intensity of Jessa’s crystal green gaze nearly caused Morrisey’s heartbeat to stutter. Something old stared out of those young eyes. What the fuck? He shook his head to clear the nonsense. Nope, still there. Leaving this place sprang to the top of his priorities. “Are you a cop-hater, man-hater, or homophobe?”

“I am none of those things. You’re obviously not ready yet, but you will be.” Jessa removed her hand, taking the swirl of conflicting emotions away.

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