Page 21 of Sinful Sorrow

“She’s nice. And she has such lovely, long brown hair. Doesn’t she, McStinkerson?”

“That’s not my name!” Mia howls, but it mixes with laughter and breathlessness as her daddy turns their trip downstairs into a game. “And yes, Ms. Harmon’s hair is super pretty. A bit like Ms. Minka’s.”

“Cato!” I follow them down. “You better not be hitting on Mayet lookalikes still!”

“Good lord,” Minka growls as I pass. “This much noise in the morning is exhausting.”

“This much noise in the morning is disruptive.” Steve, the rumpled landlord, steps out of his apartment with a furrowed brow and a look in his eyes that has Cato and Fletch silencing. Mia giggles still, because Steve has never given her those eyes. But the guys who fight over her find a sudden ability to shut the fuck up and step back as I continue down.

I’m their sacrifice. So easily discarded.

“I’m sorry, Steve.” I fake a smile and shoot it across to the others. “They’re a little hyped on maple syrup and hot chocolate. They don’t know how to act in public.”

“My name is not Stinky McStinkerson,” Mia faux whispers. “He’s being silly. I shower almost every single day.”

“Almost every single day?” The wrinkles lining Steve’s face only grow more pronounced when he smiles. “That’s a lot! Well done.”

“Do you shower every single day, Mr. Steve?”

“Most days,” he whispers back. “If I don’t, I start to smell a bit musty and old.”

She cackles, throwing her head back and nearly tossing herself, body and soul, out of Cato’s arms. But of course, he’s an agile athlete, and she’s not going anywhere. “Ms. Penny also smells a bit funny sometimes. And she’s really old, too.”

“That’s enough of that.” Fletch grabs the glass door and swings it open to reveal a windy day. Gales blow the hair back on anyone who walks by, and leaves flitter along the street, despite the lack of trees as far as the eye can see. “You have to go to school, Mia. Cato has to go to college. And the rest of us have work.”

“Ms. Minka.” Steve grabs my wife, that old dog, and pulls her in for a hug that doesn’t seem to make her tense up the way others do. If anyone else touches her—besides me—even if that someone else is Aubree or Fletch, she turns to stone and merely tolerates the physical contact. But when it’s the rumpled and warm Steve, she folds into his embrace and smiles. “They’re expecting a storm later this afternoon. Lots of rain. So you’ll be careful out there.” He pulls back, but holds her arms in his hands. “Won’t you?”

“I have a dozen guard dogs anywhere I go.” She wrinkles her nose and gifts him with a playful expression. “I assure you, I don’t have any option but to be safe.”

“We’ll get a car to bring us back if it’s raining when we clock out.” Aubree steps in next and accepts a hug. It’s smaller. Faster. Not because Steve has a problem with the autopsy tech. But simply because he saves most of his affection for the unaffectionate Minka. “We’ll be safe.”

“Good girls.” He winks and releases her. “Looks like it’ll hold off for a few hours yet, so you’re safe to make the trek to the office.” He brings muddy brown eyes over to me. “I saw you on the news last night, Detective. You caught that case with the young lady?”

Fletch steps through the door and waits for Cato to follow. “You know we can’t talk to you about an active investigation, Steve.”

“Oh, I know.” He turns to watch us file out. “Doesn’t mean I’m not curious. I saw you outside that house when it was on the television. So that means you caught it.”

“Do you know her?” I step to the door last, holding it against the wind gusts outside. “Ever met her?”

“No. Never met her. Makes me sad, though. She was so young. And they say she was pregnant.”

“It’s especially sad when they’re young. We’ll do our best to find her justice. And you’ll do your best to keep these stairwells warm in the winter.” I move onto the sidewalk and glance back inside as I wish, momentarily, for a coat. But I’ve come too far. And it’s not really all that cold. Just chilly. “Have a good day.”

He tips his chin and winks when his and Minka’s eyes meet. “And you too.”

I release the door and sling my arm over her shoulders. Because if I’m cold, she is too. But she’s way too fucking stubborn to admit it, and not at all inclined to head back in for a coat. “Today’s gonna be a good day. Moo’s gonna learn Pythagoras’ theorem and Cato’s not gonna hit on anyone’s teacher. We’re gonna solve a crime, and Ms. Minka is gonna put her butt inside her building and stay out of the storm.”

She stretches her arm across my back and tucks her hand into my pocket. Acceptance, almost. But she’s too proud to say, ‘yes sir’ out loud.

“I’m actually mostly focusing on Jenna.” Cato spins and walks backwards. Risking his basketball career and Mia’s cranium as we pass the bar. But he’s not at all worried about falling. “She’s a total cutie, Arch. She’s my own age. Her step-daddy is basically owned by Felix, which means she basically owes me a bl?—”

“Swear to god.” Aubree balls her fists. “I will end your life if you finish that sentence.”

“What?” Tossing Mia into the air, he turns and quickens his steps to put space between him and his future murderer. “She owes me a hello when we pass at the stadium.” He casts a look over his shoulder. “What were you thinking? You dirty girl.”

“Mrs. Wallace. Thank you for having us.” Fletch and I step inside Naomi’s childhood home, crossing the threshold and entering a world of warmth. The house is nice, if not a little under-maintained. The carpet on the stairs to my right, worn in some spots. And the banister, missing a few rails that would probably raise flags during a building inspection. Though no one is inspecting, so it’s a thing that goes unnoticed and unworried about, considering all three children are now practically grown.

Pictures litter the walls, and rugs scatter throughout the foyer to collect dirt and mud before visitors take their shoes off.

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