Page 15 of Lost the Handle

Chapter

Six

Emery

“If you goto 15:29 on the video, you’ll see the suspect looks over at the green egg-shaped canister on the counter.”

Ralph, a detective in the Nashville crime unit, hums. “There isn’t an opening.”

“There has to be. He kept looking at it,” I insist, watching the video again. I study the perp, who is very clean-cut and also good-looking. He doesn’t look like a murderer, but I know better. He has the gleam in his eye. The one that tells me he’s hiding something, and it’s my job to find it. It’s insane how he looks over at the egg any time he thinks no one is watching him.

Sorry, buddy. I’m always watching.

With a grin, I point to the screen, even though Ralph can’t see me. “Any time anyone wasn’t looking, he was staring at the egg. He even stood in front of it when you guys got closer to the counter.”

“Ms. Brooks, I’m telling you, there is no opening.”

“Break it.”

“What?”

“Break it. I’mtellingyou, that egg is important.”

He mumbles something along the lines of me being a nutcase before I hear him smash the egg, and then he lets out a whistle. “Dumb fuck hid the knife here?”

I smile triumphantly. “I bet he made the egg around the knife. Just so he has a trophy of the weapon he used to kill his wife.”

“Sick fuck.”

“Exactly,” I agree, adrenaline coursing through me. This is what makes this job so fucking cool. Catching the bad guys with the equipment I invented.

With Quinn.

I never thought we could do it; it was just some crazy thing we thought up after watching a crime doc and we were lying in his bed in the afterglow. He said the cops in the doc would have caught the dude sooner if they’d had an extra set of eyes. Those eyes became my video recording device that offers a full bird’s-eye view of the scene from the camera the police officers wear. It’s like a body cam on steroids. With the program we developed, we can watch in real time or watch the footage back at a later time. I have groups of employees all over the United States who watch the videos as an extra set of eyes for each crime bureau. But some detectives have my number to use for cases like this. To make sure they aren’t missing something when they feel they are. When no one else sees the little details that make my brain go wild.

I love the rush I get when I see something no one else saw. It used to be a game between Quinn and me. Who found the best evidence. We were both great at it, and it still doesn’t feel right doing it without him.

My eyes move to the time. I expected him back by now.

He rushed out of here after setting my computer on the extra desk he had, saying he had work. He’s been gone for nine hours—not that I’m tracking or anything.

I exhale before I tell Ralph, “Book him, Detective.”

“Will do. Thanks again, Ms. Brooks.”

“Anytime.”

I hang up and glance back at the time. Is he still at work? Is he out with Ava? The jealousy that burns through my body is downright pathetic, but I can’t help it. I don’t want him with her. I want him here with me. While he’s mine in my head, he isn’t mine in the real world. Since I can’t live in dreamland, I gotta live in reality and fix what I broke.

Tough pill to swallow. Thank fuck, I’m a badass bitch.

I spin my phone on the desk, biting the inside of my lip as I wait for my balls to drop to call him. I haven’t called him in three years. I’ve texted him on his birthday and on holidays, but never called. I also haven’t been back, and here I am.

So, get it together, Emery. Call your man.

I pick up the phone and go to my favorites, and he still sits at the top. Where he belongs. I hit his name, and with each passing ring, my heart tightens further in my chest. Is he going to ignore my call? He’s probably in surgery. Shit. I should?—

Before I can finish that thought, his voice comes over the line. “Em?”

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