Page 7 of So Bleak

“DB at Sushi Amaterasu. Looks a lot like that food critic who was killed at Cucina Toscana last week.”

“Shit. All right. I’m on my way.”

“Just head back to your apartment. No need for us to take more than one car. I'll pick you up from there. Sorry, Faith. Tell David I'm sorry too."

She looked up at David. “Michael says he’s sorry.”

“Tell him I said me too.”

“He says he’s gonna kick your ass for ruining his chances of getting laid tonight.”

David laughed, and Michael said, “Hey, I’m not too happy about it either. I was lying when I said Ellie doesn’t make eye contact.”

“Again, that’s my fault. However, let’s make a pact not to make any more dirty jokes for at least the duration of the case. Deal?”

“Deal. I was running out of witty remarks anyway.”

“I’ll bet. See you soon.”

She hung up and smiled apologetically at David. “I really am sorry. We’ll talk more about this later, okay? I’ll move in with you soon, I promise.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” he said. “In the meantime, I’ll just keep crying myself to sleep.”

She giggled and kissed the tip of his nose. “Just think about how nice it will be to have me to yourself every night.”

“Yeah, that sounds better. I like that.”

She kissed him again, then led an equally reluctant Turk from the restaurant. “I owe you a steak, boy.”

She was excited about the prospect of a case. It would be nice to have something to take her mind off of the bullshit surrounding West, and if it got her out of an uncomfortable conversation about moving in with David, then that was just icing on the cake.

CHAPTER FOUR

Special Agent Michael Prince, Faith’s best friend and partner of eleven years and counting, waited for her in a much larger, much newer vehicle than her old Crown Vic. Faith understood the appeal of the luxurious boats that manufacturers called SUVs these days. They were comfortable, and they allowed people the option to stream music on their phones instead of listening to the same bullshit news they saw on TV or the same twelve songs that played on every radio station.

Still, she preferred the feel of an older car. They had personality. They were driver’s cars, not the semi-self-driving hotel rooms that were all the rage these days.

She didn’t bother asking Michael if he wanted her to drive, though. Michael was a much better driver than he was a passenger, and she didn’t want to spoil her good mood any further by dealing with his complaints on their way to the restaurant.

She opened the door for Turk, then climbed into the passenger seat. Turk immediately leapt into Michael’s arms and exuberantly licked his face. Michael laughed and hugged the big dog. “Hey, boy. Good to see you, too. I missed you." He turned to Faith and teased, "No kiss from Mommy?"

“Well, I’d like to have a boyfriend when this is over, and I’m sure you want to stay married. So no.”

“Fine. Turk’s a better kisser than you anyway.” He put the car in gear and asked, “How’s David?”

“Didn’t you guys see each other last week?”

“Jeez, I’m just making conversation.”

She laughed. “He’s fine. He’s trying to get me to move in with him before the lease is up.”

“Do it. You have him wrapped around your finger. Take advantage of that now before he figures out how annoying you are.”

“I’ll take that under advisement. I mean, I probably will. I’m going to move in with him eventually, so there’s no real point in dragging it out.”

“Exactly. Besides, he’s a good guy. I like him.”

“Thanks, Dad,” she said drily.

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