Page 24 of Sinful Reality

“Not him. His history paints him as the bad guy, but his actions after prison prove something else. He didn’t have a single ding to his file after his release, and he didn’t lose his cool once, not even with Lowe riding his ass the way he was. It wasn’t him.”

“Did you talk to the fruit shop lady today?”

“No,” he huffs impatiently. “And I know I can trust you not to look her up and interfere with my investigation. That M.E. badge you carry at work isn’t the same as the badge I carry. Yours doesn’t count.”

“Mmhm.” Little does he know she has a cop badge, too, just sitting in the drawer and biding its time until she breaks the law next. “So tomorrow you’ll work through the list and see if you can shake something else loose. Maybe start with Elouise’s mother, since it’s fresher?”

“That’s the plan. Can you explain the methylated spirits thing?”

“I mean…” Tired, she shrugs. “We could wonder if he’s made a habit of drinking it. But if he did, he’d be blind by now. And we can infer that he used it to clean, since the vics had it on their hands and trace elements showed up in tox and stomach contents.”

“Which implies?”

“It’s possible he washed his clothes with it, too? Maybe some got on the cotton material Alana was eating, which is how it ended up on her screeners. Kinda sounds like he’s a clean freak, which, from a psychological stance, isn’t out of the ordinary for someone apt to steal and defile little girls.”

She’s done infusing, and I’m done waiting. So I place a clean fork on Minka’s plate and start across the apartment. “Say goodbye to your little friend now,Min.”

She pins me with a glare and snaps her teeth in threat.

So I smile and offer her food. “Please,Min.”

“Sounds like you gotta go.” Paxton Gilbert is a smart man, at least. He knows when to fuck off, and aside from theMinbullshit, he’s yet to turn this conversation in any direction except work.

Lucky him. He lives another day.

“I’ll be in contactifandwhenI get something fresh,” he rumbles. “Thanks for your help.”

“Yep.” She skips over her goodbyes, taps the red dot on her screen, and ends the call, all without taking her eyes off mine. “Don’t call me Min.”

“Why not?” I set the plate on her thighs and make quick work of collecting the fallout of her infusion, balling the tape, and snatching up the tubing. I grab the needle, though I’m not nearly as careful with it as I used to be. Accidentally pricking myself isn’t a concern anymore.

We already share body fluids.

Pushing everything aside and clearing a spot for me to sit, I perch on the coffee table, my knees almost touching hers. “He can call you Min. I’m your husband. Doesn’t that mean I get to, too?”

“You don’t want to call me Min. You’re only doing it to annoy me.” Pouting and puffy-eyed, she looks down at her Pad Thai and picks at the noodles. “You’re making it into something it’s not.”

“Sorry,Min.” I earn another snarl and lean in to press a kiss to her kneecap. “I was listening to your conversation?—”

“Well, of course you were.” She rolls her eyes and yawns at the same time. It’s a frightening look and not in the least bit sexy. But she’s post-infusion and mentally completely fucking depleted. So I take her fork and help her load it up. “I wasn’t hiding it from you. So you can cut theMinshit before I hurt you.”

“Uh-huh.” I spin the fork and wrap it in noodles, then I offer the lot, knowing we only have a small window before she’s out. “I wanted to be mad at you, Minnnka. I was pissed when I got home on date night to find you on the phone with someone else.”

She opens her mouth and accepts her dinner.

“I was jealous when he spat out that lame-ass nickname. But then I remembered…” I draw the empty fork back and stare into her eyes. “You’remine. You belong to me, and there’s nothing on the fucking planet that’ll break us. So then I stopped being jealous and started thinkingthat poor motherfucker. The best he’s got isMin. Meanwhile, you’re still here with me.”

“You’re making it into a bigger deal than it needs to be. I talk caseswith Fletch. He calls me Delicious and actively flirts right in front of your face. Somehow, that’s okay, but a cop from New York made you jealous?”

“Only for a second.” I glance down and load her fork a second time. “That green-eyed fucker got me questioning things for a minute?—”

“Green-eyed?” She pops a brow high on her forehead. “Do you mean envy or Malone?”

She gets it. Finally. So I answer with a simple, “Yes.” And then I bring her fork up and make damn sure she eats. “Ultimately, I choose not to invite anyone else into our marriage. So once I moved past all that shit, I started paying attention to the details.”

“You heard the bit about the fruit stall guy, right?” She talks around her food, bringing a hand up to swipe beneath her bottom lip. “Right age, right rap sheet, right priors, and a massive coincidence that he died right about the time our killer stopped taking kids.”

“He diedbeforethe last one.”

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