Page 7 of Sinful Deception

“Good.” Anger explodes in my blood, but I turn my attention to Flynn. “And you?”

“I don’t have an ape causing heart attacks. In fact, I have a SIDs case. It’s as standard as SIDs can be. Home life appears normal. No co-sleeping, no alcohol or drugs evident within the family. This seems to just be a horrible tragedy. I’m tying it up this morning and moving on to the next.”

“Good.” I look at Raquel, our tox lab genius. “And you?”

“Overworked,” she sighs. “Underpaid. No appreciation. Life is difficult, ya know?”

“Sure is. But your workload?”

Her fire-engine red lips curl higher with a taunting smile. “Besides crushing me? It’s coming along. Doctor Campbell and I are getting through things faster now that we’re on our ‘never eat, never sleep, too much caffeine’ diets. It’s a short-term win.”

“And a long-term heart attack,” Aubree snipes with a side grin. “I’ll be sure to bring flowers to your funeral.”

Raquel wrinkles her nose, but she holds my gaze. “Things are fine. Xavier is working on a cold case right now. The lead detectives have reopened the inquiry after ten years of quiet. We have new tech these days, so they’re hoping we can pull something useful with the DNA left behind.”

“Good.” My phone rings on my desk. Not the office phone, but my cell, so I turn and snatch it up, spying Archer’s name. But I spin back to my team and release them with a nod. “I’ll come around in a little bit if anyone needs an assist.”

“Doubtful,” Aubree teases, mocking Raquel with a snide expression as she files by. Then, when everyone is gone, she swings back around and sneaks a look at my phone. “That’s Archer, which means you have a man looking to flirt or a dead body looking for an M.E. If it’s the second, then you won’t be assisting anyone anytime soon.”

“You need to stop that.” I swipe to answer just a beat before the call would have gone to voicemail. Then, bringing the device to my ear, I narrow my eyes and look at Aubree again. She knows so much… about everything… and yet, it mostly remains unspoken. “Detective Malone?”

“Didn’t think you were gonna answer.” He’s not at the precinct, proven by the lack of chatter and ringing phones on his end of the line. But the shutter sound of crime scene techs photographing a scene becomes my second clue. “Everything okay?”

“Mmhm. We were just finishing up our morning briefing.”

“You ready to come off the bench?”

“Yeah, coach.” I firm my lips when Aubree dances her way toward the door and out to collect her things from her desk. “She’s too happy about being right. It’s bordering on obnoxious now.”

Archer only chuckles. “Yours and Aubree’s relationship is almost as weird as Fletch and Fifi’s. But I’m not allowed to talkabout that, so… female vic, mid-forties. There was no cruise ship and no bachelorette party, unfortunately.”

I wedge the phone between my shoulder and ear, making my way to the rack by the door. I switch my white lab coat for the one I always wear when I go out. It’s too thin. Kinda ratty and old. But it’s functional, and my birthdayandChristmas already passed, which means I missed my opportunity for a new one this winter.

Unless, of course, I acted like a mature adult and simply bought my own.

“What about a cruise ship? We don’t get those here, right?”

“There wasnocruise ship. The scene isn’t wildly violent, and the vic has a husband who, according to his boss, didn’t come to work today. So once my M.E. gets here, I reckon I know where I’m looking next.”

“Sounds like you can do the job without me.” I slip my arms into the sleeves and catch my phone when I release it from my shoulder, but I head through the door and bring the device back up. “Since it sounds easy, do you want me to send one of my junior techs instead?”

“I accept only the best. Even if it costs more for the city. Are you too busy to come out?”

“Not particularly.” I follow Aubree to the elevator and in when theneutral-cube-of-truth-telling-and-something-somethingopens up to reveal an empty interior. “And I’m never too busy for you, Detective. We’re getting into the elevator now.”

“Sucks for you,” he laughs. “I’ll text you the address and see you in ten minutes.”

“Yeah.” I side-eye Aubree and tense up at the excitement bubbling in her stance. The clenched fists and giddy grin. Her eyes dance and her cheeks flush warm. Knowing what’s coming for me, I sigh and finish my call. “I’ll see you in ten.”

Pulling the phone from my ear, I stare straight ahead as the elevator doors close and, like clockwork, Aubree bursts out. “Do you have anyone in your sights right now? Ya know, for like, the V stuff.”

“No. And if I did, you’d know it, wouldn’t you?”

“Not necessarily; you’re a pretty closed-up person and rarely volunteer anything more than your lips offer. I get my information mostly from Archer because he’s a big old textbook laid open for anyone to read. It just so happens I speak Malone particularly well. Also, it’s going on the anniversary of the Diane Philips case again. How are you feeling about that?”

“Why don’t you smack my ass and find out for yourself?” I flash her a smile as we arrive and the doors open, then I step out and revel in the knowledge that she won’t ask questions except in the elevator. That’s her place for prying. Everywhere else, she locks it down. “Archer mentioned something about a cruise ship and a bachelorette party…?” I come to a stop at the passenger side of a car and stare across the roof until Aubree jingles a set of keys. She always knows to grab them on the way out, because I sure as hell never remember to. “I don’t know what the cruise thing is about.” I slide in when she unlocks the doors and wrap myself tight in my jacket as the January cold bites at my skin. Even underground. Even in a structure of two-foot-thick concrete walls and a roof so low, I could almost stretch out and touch it with the tips of my fingers. “I guess we’ll see once we get there, but from what he’s said so far, this one is a slam dunk. Straightforward case, thankfully. January isnevera month I want additional mental and emotional loads.”

“Because of the Diane Philips stuff.” She backs us out of the parking spot and pushes the car into drive. But before broaching the garage’s exit, she glances over and studies my expression. “You brought her up outside of the elevator, not me. So you’re not allowed to get cranky. Diane was taken in the winter of ‘98,right? And dumped in the winter of ‘99. Her killer was never found.”

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