Page 11 of Dropping Like Flies

Despite the three years that had passed, Griffin didn’t look that much different. A few more lines around the eyes. A few pounds heavier. More tired. Did I look any different to him? Did I care? A squeak of Baros’ chair as he shifted his weight had me jerking my gaze his way and registering that he’d been talking.

“… quite irregular, I’ll admit, but it’s something that’s been under discussion for a while, and this case is moving so fast that it seems a perfect opportunity to try it out.”

“Wait!” I interjected. “What exactly is it you think he’ll be able to do?”

Baros turned his shrewd gaze my way. “Mr. Caldwell is a necromancer. A man capable of bringing someone back from the dead.”

“I…” I’d been going to say I knew that. Barely a minute had passed, and I was already in danger of slipping up. “I know what they do. I just don’t know how that’s going to help us.” Neither did Griffin, if his furrowed brow was anything to go by. At least I wasn’t the only one in the dark. My brain did some speedy mental gymnastics, the full implications of what Baros was suggesting finally dawning on me.

It dawned on Griffin at the same time, my ex-lover sitting straighter in his seat. “The board will never grant permission. It’s been up for discussion before and it turned into a lengthy debate about ethics that just went round in circles until they shelved the idea altogether. And if you think I’m going behind their backs and losing my license over it, you need to think again.”

Relief washed over me. There’d been a moment where I’d actually believed I might have to work with him. Like that could ever have ended in anything but disaster.

The DCS picked up a piece of paper from the corner of his desk and passed it across to Griffin, leaving me as nothing but an onlooker. Which was all kinds of fucked up when it was my case. “They’ve already agreed,” he said simply.

Griffin snatched the piece of paper from Baros’ hand with the air of a man who thought he was being fed absolute bullshit. I knew all about the mysterious board who governed every move a necromancer made from our time together. Griffin had often described them as a bunch of people who knew nothing about how the real world worked and who spent their time working out the best way to inflict misery. Well, he hadn’t quite phrased it that politely, but that was the general gist of it. Griffin scoured the piece of paper while both Baros and I watched him.

If it had been anyone else, I might have leaned across to read it. But seeing as I didn’t know what getting close to Griffin would do to me, I stayed firmly rooted in place, searching for clues in his expression about what he was reading. He remained carefully neutral. At least until he shook his head, his gaze lifting to Baros. “I can’t believe you got them to sign off on this. How did you pull that off?”

“They okayed it?” I asked.

Neither man so much as glanced my way, never mind answered. Apparently, I’d achieved invisibility.

“They recognized that their best interests lie in stopping these murders,” Baros said quietly.

“Why?”

Given the word hovered on my tongue, it took a few seconds to realize Griffin had beaten me to it. “Yeah, why?” I echoed, thinking we’d have a better chance of getting an answer if we presented a united front, despite the absurdity of that considering our history.

Baros’ shrewd gaze skimmed between us. Did he know there was a connection? One that we’d hidden. I steeled myself for him to call us out on it, but the moment passed without him saying anything. “Let’s just say we persuaded them they could play a crucial role in modernizing the police force, and that it wouldn’t look good if they refused. They have enough detractors as it is.”

I leaned forward. “I just want to check I’ve got this right. You’re suggesting we bring a murder victim back to life, so we can ask them questions about how they died? How are the relatives going to take that, do you suppose?”

There was a challenge in Baros’ gaze when we locked eyes. “If you’re not up to the job, DCI Weaver, I can find someone who is.”

“That won’t be necessary.” My words were as cold as his stare. “You’ll have to excuse my confusion, but I needed clarity. It’s my first time in fifteen years of being in the force that I’ve been partnered with a necromancer.”

Baros shoved the folder my way. “You’ll need to brief Mr. Caldwell. He should know what he’s walking into.”

My gaze slid Griffin’s way, finding him wearing a slight frown. “He hasn’t agreed to it yet,” I pointed out. “I can’t think of many civilians who would volunteer their services in this way.”

The DCS raised an eyebrow. “Well, Mr. Caldwell? Now you know the board has sanctioned it, can we count on your cooperation? Your boss, Cade Everleigh, has assured me we can call on your services for as long as they’re needed. He seemed to think the change of scenery might do you good.”

It was all I could do to hold back a snort. Change of scenery. Right, because crime scenes were all the rage for kicking back in. If that was the case, I’d be the most chilled out person who’d ever lived, and I was far from it.

During the long silence that followed, I held my breath. This would be where Griffin would tell Baros where he could stick his job. He’d walk out, and we’d go back to pretending we weren’t meant to be together, that I wasn’t the chosen one decreed by his necromancer abilities. I could pretend it hadn’t cut like a knife to see him again, that I hadn’t noticed how he’d barely looked my way since his arrival in Baros’ office, and life would get back to normal. Or as normal as it could be when murders dictated your every waking moment.

“I think,” Griffin said slowly, “that I need to know more before I can make a decision.”

What? That wasn’t what he’d been supposed to say. Unless Griffin had changed, which I sincerely doubted, he wasn’t the type to be maneuvered into something he didn’t want to do for the sake of being polite. And if the little snippets about him that had reached my ears from well-meaning friends were anything to go by, he’d only gotten worse in that regard, not better.

Fuck! I really didn’t want to find myself stuck between a rock and a hard place with the case, but it was looking increasingly likely that’s what would happen.

Chapter Five

Griffin

This whole thing had stank to high heaven from the moment Cade had first mentioned it, but it stank even more now that I’d dutifully attended the meeting, only to find none other than Ben sitting there. So much for Cade’s statistic-based assurances I wouldn’t bump into him. Not only had I bumped into him, but I’d been partnered with him—a turn of events that clearly displeased Ben as much as it did me.

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