Page 34 of Brother's Keeper

Holland’s eyes fluttered with rapid blinks as she searched for a response. “You’re taking this personally? You don’t take anything personally. Or seriously, for that matter.” She turned a circle, apparently wanting to pace but lacking the space to move freely. “And why?” She glanced up at me. “You’re not even gay.”

“I’m not?” My exaggerated surprise caused her to shift into uncertainty.

“Are you?” Her forehead scrunched. “Since when?”

Leaning against the desk, I crossed my arms. “I think the consensus is it’s something you’re born with.”

The investigator started to reply, then stopped, three separate times before she settled to say, “You weren’t… in high school? We were dating.” She stared at me, and I stared back, my expression fixed and even.

Finally, she waved a dismissive hand. “This is irrelevant. I’m sorry if he offended you, but you aren’t allowed to just go off like that.”

I nodded toward the room beyond the glass. “It’s a tactic. I’m the bad cop, you’re the good one. I’m supposed to come unglued.”

“No, you’re not!” She pressed her palm to her face. “You’re supposed to be professional, and that means coming to work sober and swallowing your pride if someone calls you a name.”

Shrugging, I flipped through the manila folder on the table behind me. Could the missing guestbook pages be tucked inside? Wouldn’t hurt to look.

“I was just making an observation,” I mused while searching. “He has a very fuckable mouth.”

Holland’s jaw clenched as she glanced from the witness beyond the glass to me. After a moment, she heaved a loud sigh. “I think you should sit the rest of this out.”

No need to tell me twice.

I bobbed my head. “Sure thing, boss.”

She lingered, and I wasn’t sure why until the storm clouds rolling across her features began to part, and she asked, “So, you’re into guys now?”

I almost made a crack about guys being intome,but then I thought of something even better.

“Yeah.” I shrugged. “But Preston’s not my type, so you’re out of luck. Unless he’s willing to loan you out.”

Even her sunglasses didn’t shade me from the heat of her glare.

“Inappropriate,” she hissed.

“You asked.”

“My mistake,” Holland snipped. She turned to go, but I called after her.

“Quick question: who did you say it was on traffic cam duty?”

She looked back at me, and her mouth twisted into a frown. “I didn’t say, but probably Felix. He has an eye for that sort of thing.”

I chortled a laugh. “I bet he does.”

My amusement befuddled her, but it didn’t keep her from leaving me to my own devices, with the case file I happily tucked under my arm and ferried away. I didn’t care to stay and hear what else Calvin Morgan had to say. My mind had forged ahead, or maybe rolled back, to problems on the home front. My brother was babysitting a zombie whose plague-bringer boyfriend had been missing for at least seventy-two hours. And I didn’t need to ask my investigator cohorts to know that the odds of finding a missing person alive decreased exponentially as the time dragged on.

Mine wasn’t the only Hex mark up for grabs these days. Ripley had separated himself from the gang. He was a lone target, but not an easy one. But, if Jax had been willing to make a go at me in the presence of a whole team of investigators, why would his underlings show any more restraint hunting down Ripley?

It was only a theory, but one worth testing, especially since I had a captive audience in the holding cell down the hall.

By the looks ofhim, Jax had not taken advantage of the holding cell’s en suite shower. It made me grateful for the barred door and distance between us because a nose full of body odor might have been more than my already soured stomach could take.

Sidling up to the entry, I rapped my knuckles against the wall in a resounding knock.

Jax sprawled on the bed inside, one hand dangling off the side of the narrow mattress. He raised his greasy head toward the sound of my summons, then let it drop with a thud. “Talking time is over, Fitch Farrow. I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

I didn’t believe it for a minute. I knew little about the smelly shapeshifter besides that he wanted to kill me, and that he loved to run his mouth. It was something we had in common.

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