Page 29 of Sinful Deception

“I’m heading to the Mayor’s office.” I slide out of Frank’s car, since he so generously happened to be at my front door after walking downstairs this morning, and look up at the building the mayor and all his minions operate out of. Conveniently, it’s not terribly far from my own office. Then, I bring my focus back to my phone. And Aubree, on the other end. “I’ve gone to her place, and she wasn’t there, and I had Callen call her office, kind of incognito, just to see who would answer. She said it was Fifi, so…”

“So she’s in robot mode. Got it. You realize robot-Fifi and you arenota good mix, right? She wants space, and you don’t do emotions all that well. Add in that she’s working for the enemy, and you’re walking into his territory. This is a pot boiling with tension and an argument just waiting to explode.”

“Yeah, but those explosions between me and Fifi tend to lead to something real. She’ll be mean, and I’ll be mean. It’s what we do. But after the mean, will come things that matter, and those things that matter tend to resolve whatever issue we’re facing.”

“And just so we’re clear… you’re aware, prior to now, she was employed by you and not willing to be overtly disrespectful toher superior. Thus, the level ofmeanshe stooped to was likely cloaked by her desire to keep her job. Now that she works for Lawrence, she no longer suffers from that dilemma.”

“Are you worried about me?” I move up the concrete stairs, the wind whipping my hair back and a cold chill sprinting beneath my jacket—not even the thin, ratty one I typically wear, but a thick, black coat that belongs to Archer.

He wouldn’t let me leave the apartment without it.

I look up at the glistening multi-story building and realize, although I’ve been on these steps in the past, I’ve never moved through the doors.

Can’t, when a woman is desperately attempting to avoid the mayor who spends a large chunk of his time here.

“I consider your concern endearing, Doctor Emeri. It’s sweet.”

“I’m not trying to be sweet! I’m trying to save you from a tongue-lashing I’m not sure you realize may be coming. She’ll be hurting today, and you’re just walking in there, all willy-nilly. You call me a flower child, but you’re the one being naïve today. So much for the badass and brave v?—”

“Don’t say that word,” I growl. “Ever. It’s one of those things that will forever remain unsaid between us. And I’m checking in on a friend.” I step through the automatic doors when the sensor notices my approach, then into a lobby brimming with crisp air and the scent of vanilla. The smell is immediately noticeable to me becausemybuilding smells like Mr. Clean lives there. “What floor do they work on?”

She hesitates for a beat before exhaling. “I’m not telling you. Consider asking the receptionists.”

“Is Fifi not the receptionist?”

She snarls, dangerous and low in the back of her throat. “You deserve whatever beating she gives you. No, she’s not the receptionist. And asking the receptionists to speak to someonenot on the ground floor is unlikely to end well for you anyway. They’re literally trained to keep people away from those higher up.”

“But I’m a higher up, too,” I tease. “I’m the chief medical examiner, after all.” I spy a trio of the exact kinds of Barbies Cato would go gaga for, so I turn in their direction and smile as they glance over. “I’m hanging up, Doctor Emeri. Will you be at Fletch’s later?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Good luck at the mayor’s office. Don’t die.”

I roll my eyes and end our call, then I slip my hand and the phone into my pocket, only to swap it for my badge. “Chief Medical Examiner, Minka Mayet. I’m here to see Mayor Lawrence.”

“Of course,” the perky and pretty receptionist on the left beams. She picks up the phone and brings it to her ear. “I’ll call Ms. Lewis down so she can escort you bac?—”

“No.” I reach over her desk and press my finger to the button on her phone. “Please don’t call Ms. Lewis. Call Justin himself. This meeting is of a private matter, I’m certain you understand. He wouldn’t appreciate his entire staff knowing I was here.”

“O-of course,” she stammers, watching my hand until I slowly remove my finger, then she taps the little button labeled MAYOR. So pointed. Such little wasted time. “Hello, Mayor Lawrence. Chief Medical Examiner Minka Mayet is here to see you. She said you were expecting her?—”

I reach out again and snatch the phone from the poor girl who will require her own trauma therapy soon, but then I bring it to my ear and grin. “Justin. What floor are you on?”

He holds the silence for a long beat. Thinking, I’m sure. Considering. Until finally, he murmurs, “Why? What do you want?”

“This isn’t a hostage situation,” I snicker. “And you’re constantly hounding me for attention. Here I am, ready to give it to you.”

“And certainly, I expect there to be a price.” His chair squeaks as he pushes up from it. “So I repeat: what do you want?”

“An audience with the mayor! Are we seriously going back and forth about this? You’ve stalked and harassed me at my office for a year straight, Justin. You’ve made your wishesabundantlyclear that you’d appreciate my focus more often. But now I’m here, and suddenly, you have no time for me?”

“It’s not that I have no time. But I feel as though I know you well enough to know you come here with a motive. You’ve never spent time with me willingly, so why?—”

“That’s not true! I went to your house that one time.”

“Under duress, and only because Malone drove you there. You were also post-surgery and in need of pain relief, and Malone had questions for me regarding an active case. Hardly a visit between friends. Which leads me to annoying repetition; why are you here?”

“Because I miss you and want to spend time with you?”

He slams the phone back into the cradle, my shoulders jumping at the loud crack in my ear. Then disbelief washes through my veins. Shock, even. Hurt, if only a little, for his rejection. Of all the people on the planet, I didn’t expectthisman, who so openly obsesses over my well-being, to tell me no. But here I am, unsuccessful in my ruse and not nearly ashigher upas I thought I was. “Well, shit…” Gritting my teeth, I hand the phone back to the terrified receptionist and offer a fake, feeble laugh. “The line cut out for some reason. If you could just tell me what floor the mayor is on, that would be super-duper?—”

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