Page 8 of The Huntress

Mike’s expression remained blank. He pursed his lips, took a long draw from his can before crushing it in his meaty fist. “Nothing? You hookered up for no new leads?”

Since he was her partner, she wouldn’t take offense at the hooker part of his question. Shehadfelt out of place in the gown and setting.

“You don’t have to rub it in.” She pouted. “Carter wants me to spy on the suckbloods, like that would ever happen. Says one of them thinks I’mpurty.” She fluttered her eyelashes at Mike with a fake giggle. “The idiot didn’t realize I dolled up for him, Duhamel, and Hawkins.”

“I can’t get over what a waste last night was.” Mike ran a hand over his rugged face. “Those fancy idiots tossed something off the balcony. Damn thing bounced off the sidewalk and over my car.”

Callie gasped and grabbed his arm. “Tell me you investigated?”

“Hell, no. Whatever it was, it looked lethal.”

“Honestly. You’re the twice-decorated homicide detective Mike Barrows, and you couldn’t bother to leave the damn car?” Her jaw dropped. “I lost my piece when I climbed off the balc—” She bit her lip and flicked him a glance, hoping his sharp gaze missed her slip.

“Whoa.” He grabbed her empty can and crushed it, tossing it into the trashcan with too much force. “Tell me you didn’t take your skinny ass out on the building’s ledge, Callista? Tell me you’re not suicidal?”

“I had nowhere to hide so I took a chance. Besides, I realized my stupidity soon enough.” She relaxed when he did nothing more but grumble.

“I’m failing your father with Val’s illness. I can’t lose you because of your damn tomfoolery.”

Memories flashed—years of knowing Mike. He’d been her father’s partner until the day Dad died. All her birthday parties and school events had been under Mike’s supervision, and he was theonlyone to step forward after her last partner quit on her.

She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, the taste bold and metallic overpowering the plastic flavor of the hotdog. She’d have preferred a rant over a guilt trip. His look of despair was harder to bear. The weight of the situation settled on her shoulders, reminding her there was more to living than chasing clues and taking reckless chances. More to life was time spent with Val as she wasted away. More life, in this case, meant years added to Val’s life.

Mike engulfed her in a warm hug against his massive body, and she softened, accepting his offer of comfort. He stepped away and handed her a napkin.

“What?” She wiped her chin and mouth with it.

“I got mustard on your uniform.” He chuckled.

She cried out and dabbed her chest with frantic swipes. “Let’s recap. Duhamel?”

“Mayor James Duhamel—charismatic, overeager, and arrogant. Large contributions to his campaign raise my hackles. Taking money from Hawkins, but why? What’s the connection between Carter and Duhamel? There’s something sinister going on. I just can’t find out what.”

“We still have those dirty pictures I took.”

“Yeah, they’re in the file.” He pursed his lips at yet another argument he’d lost. Her skinnier ass had chosen her to be the one to climb into Duhamel’s heating ducts to take those photos. “That just makes him a liar and a man-whore.”

“Alan Hawkins?”

“Nothing’s changed. He’s the CEO of Floges Corporation. His fingers are everywhere, his coffers overflowing. He has companies in too many industries to bother counting. He also has biotics and research labs doing who knows what. I can’t get in there to investigate. Their security is tighter than Captain’s ass. Every damn newspaper has his face on the front page.” Mike huffed and leaned his elbows on the roof of the police vehicle. “There must be…something. Perfect people make me nervous.”

“First, use the tablet I bought you for your birthday. No one buys newspapers anymore, Mike. Second, if you must tell me again the how’s and why’s perfect people make your ass twitch, I’m calling a taxi.”

“Are you sassing me after I bought you lunch? Your father didn’t raise a disrespectful, ungrateful lady.” He climbed into the car, ducking his head as he folded his great bulk into the small confines.

“Are you confusing me with Val again? I’m the boy he never had.”

She clambered into the passenger’s seat because he didn’t let her drive. He was old school which meant men drove. She let him because it kept the peace.

“Your fatherlovedyou, Callista,” he said,sotto voce, and gave her a long stare until she nodded, acknowledging he was right to remind her. “That leaves Carter.” He clicked on his seatbelt and started the engine.

“State Senator Devlin Carter. That man’s slimier than a snake. I can’t pin him down with anything. He dodges evidence, leaving barely a trace of his involvement. He’s stinking rich, which is why he can gift generous contributions without feeling it. Maybe I should take him up on his offer?”

“Hussy for him?” Mike’s sausage-fingers gripped the steering wheel until it creaked under the abuse. He shot her a warning glance, taking a corner fast. “Oh, hell no.”

“To spy on the suckbloods. Why would he ask me to do that? ‘Look for something extraordinary,’ he said.” A burst of joy spread through her like a belly full of hot cocoa on a chilly night. “He doesn’t like them. That’s not the image he portrays to the media. Could that be the angle?”

“Sounds like you got a lead, after all.”

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