Page 66 of Icy Cold Death

Being partnered up with an asshole.

When he walked away to keep heading on the collision course with his destiny—getting fired—Genesis low-key flipped him off.

It wouldn’t be soon enough when he retired.

God.

She couldn’t wait. If she was lucky, she wouldn’t be unemployed at the time. The captain was getting tired of her running to him to alert him to the trainwreck that was her partner.

She was trapped in an endless cycle of a boy’s club.

Helplessly, she watched as he walked toward the four patrol cars and opened the back door to one of them. The fireworks were coming.

Jon stared at the pretty redhead in the back of the patrol car. She had green eyes, and a perfect nose.

That pissed him off too.

“And you are?” he asked, already knowing the information. Apparently, this one was a cop, and she should be ashamed of herself.

Hanging out with a PI?

What was the world coming to?

“Detective Bishop Monroe. I work for the Salem PD. Has anyone told you that you’re miserable? No? Well, you are,” she said. “The professional courtesy that you should be showing me as a fellow detective is lacking. Someone should teach you manners.”

He stared at her.

Oh, well, he was going to enjoy making her life hell. That rage rose up in him, and he went there.

“Let me see your creds if you’re a cop.”

She laughed.

“My dude, I don’t carry a gun and badge skiing. What am I supposed to do? Arrest people skiing above the speed limit? I also don’t carry my gun across state lines when I’m not at work.”

Yeah, well, if she couldn’t make her creds appear, she had a problem.

He pointed at the other cars.

“You say you’re a cop, but funny…it comes back that you guys are PIs.”

She laughed.

Oh, there was no doubt that this guy was going to be a dick.

She knew cops like him.

Because she was pretty, he was going to take his rage out on her that he wasn’t half the cop she was.

“No, I’m a cop who works on cold case files and murders, and if you’d give me the courtesy of calling my precinct, they’d tell you that locking me in the back of a patrol car is a bad idea. I get mean, and then, I make it a point to make people miserable. From that permanent scowl on your face, I see you get that a lot. Who shit in your cereal, Detective? Because that must have been a big ol’ dump.”

Instead of answering, he slammed the door.

Genesis knew this was bad.

They’d researched her, and she wasn’t lying. Her partner was crossing a line by using the whole, ‘where are your creds’ bullshit?

This was going to bite them in the ass.

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