Page 50 of Sinful Reality

“Good,” Fletch cuts in before I can. “So you know what happened, then. Why are you wasting our time?”

Like a hunter in the wild, Denton looks his way and practically swells with arrogance. “Just doing my job. Nathan Booth’s death is relatively high profile, considering the string of murders that came shortly before. Add in that he was dating a cop’s wife and?—”

“Ex-wife,” I snarl. “And the divorce was final long before she met the dude. Her choices from that point forward ceased to be Fletch’s business.”

“But those choices led her to a crack house, which led her to thehospital and, eventually, her death. Her funeral was attended by other, uh…” He clears his throat, grinning though he attempts to bite it down, “associates of the lesser legal community.” His eyes flicker my way. Daring me to lose my shit and make a scene in the homicide bullpen. “The mayor, even, was there. Seems like such an odd grouping, don’t you think?”

“No,” I bite out. “I don’t. I think Jada Watson’s death was tragic, but ultimately, none of your fucking business. Because the biggest tragedy of all, andourfocus, is the little girl who lost her mother. I think you’re trying to imply my brothers, who were in attendance that day, are less than legal. And, if so, I will let them know their name is in your mouth, at which point, they’ll confer with their legal team and consider what steps to take next. If you have a problem with the mayor, then I suggest that’s a whole other fucking whale you can take on in your own time. Anything else, Detective?”

His enthusiasm remains unharmed. His fucking pleasure, untouched. He only purses his lips and looks Fletch’s way. “A man was assassinated at your ex-wife’s funeral, Detective. And it’s my job to ensure the Copeland City police department is clean on the matter.”

“We’re clean.” He slips his phone into his pocket. “I had no clue Nathan Booth would attend. I don’t know who shot him. And I don’t know why they shot him, though assumptions are easy to make. Several members of his team were gunned down in the weeks prior to his death, and earlier investigations prove he, too, may have been a target. It’s obvious he was not invited to Jada’s funeral, considering the warrant for his arrest, and the Midtown cops were ready to close their case out. But invitation or not, the idea was floated that he may turn up, hence, their presence on the day. If they considered it a possibility, then I suppose someone else did, too. In the end, he ate lead and now he’s in the ground. That’s all I can say on the matter.”

“And now your time is up.” I step around my desk and grab Fletch’s sleeve. “Let’s go. Mia’s waiting for you at home. You have dinner to cook and a nanny to relieve.”

“He’s a slimy fucker.” Yanking his arm from my grip, he fast-walks beside me despite the bullet wound still healing in his leg. We exit the bullpen and start toward the escalators, blowing past anyone whothinks to get in our way. “How can you become a fuckin’ cop, put in all those years working your way up the ladder, become friends with your coworkers, only to turn around and decide investigating cops is where your heart is?”

“Dunno.” I chew the inside of my cheek and step onto the escalator, risking a peek back to find Denton’s eyes squarely on the back of Fletch’s head. His beaming smile and arrogant stance. “I’ll wipe a shitty cop off the force in a second if I have to. Taylor needed to go, and I feel no remorse for that shit. But investigating agoodcop whose alibi is tighter than a nun’s asshole, because a drug dealer was popped in full view of a dozen witnesses?” I shake my head and turn to stare down the escalator. “That’s just him being a prick. He’s got a hard-on because I’m a Malone, and because you’re mine. He wants a big fish so he can get a medal and a newspaper article with his name in it.”

“The only place he belongs in a newspaper is in the fucking cartoons. He’s a joke.”

Together, we step off the steel tread and make our way toward the doors.

“I’m not worried.” He heads into the almost-darkness just a beat before me, holding the door while I pass through to the icy breeze. “The detectives running Jada’s case aren’t even looking this way. The mayor isn’t looking this way. Fabian and Bower have my back, and no matter which way Denton wants to twist himself up and hope for something juicy, I’m clear for that hit.”

“Detectives?”

Startled, I spin on my heels and find Seraphina Lewis dwarfed by a red puffer coat with a furry brown lining, the hood pulled high to cover her ears, and her arms crossed firmly over her chest to fight the chill. It’s damn near dinnertime, and yet, she looks as fresh as she would’ve first thing this morning.

“Fifi?” Smug, I glance from her to a stunned Fletch, his eyes wide and his tongue already on his lip. He’s shameless. “You have a crime to report, Ms. Lewis, or are you just happy to see us?”

She rolls her eyes, her glossy red lips glistening under the streetlights already flickering to life. “I was heading home, in actual fact. But I’m glad I ran into you. I heard a rumor that Chief Mayet is sick.”

“Not according to Chief Mayet,” I chuckle. “She claims shenevergets sick. But if that were true, I’m not sure how to explain the snot leaking from her face, the glassiness of her eyes, the way her hands shake every time she uses them. Oh, and the one-oh-four temps our thermometer falsely accuses her of having every time her meds wear off.”

“And I bet she’s a delightful patient,” she drawls. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Because we all know and love her very much. Even though she pisses us off. She went into the office this morning,” I add, since Fletch is clearly not ready to use his tongue appropriately yet. “Put in a couple of hours. But she’s at the apartment now.”

“Resting…” She pretends not to look Fletch’s way. Though Stevie Wonder himself could see how her eyes wander. “I hope?”

“Doubtful. But my brother is there, and he’ll keep her from making any truly stupid decisions.”

The corner of her lips twitch with the ghost of a smile. “Ironic, really, that Cato may be the more mature of the two. Is there anything I can do to help her, Detective?”

“Besides quit your job and resume your position at the George Stanley?” I grin when her eyes narrow. “No, I’d say that about covers her wish-list. I’m heading home now, so I’ll make her eat and check her temperature again. Yesterday was bad, but I think today is better.”

“She’ll be back in the office, harassing her team soon enough,” she decides. “Her powers grow stronger with every underling she makes cry. She thrives on other people’s misery.”

I love Minka Mayet. Truly, deeply, I do. But fuck if I don’t snicker at Fifi’s unkind words.

“Something like that.” I look to Fletch and shake my head, because all I see is a man ready to make some of those stupid decisions we were just talking about. “You need me to continue mediating this, or…?”

“It’s fine.” He clears his throat and licks his lips again. He’s a wolf, and she’s his Red. “Do you, uh…” He nervously scratches the back of his neck and gestures vaguely in that direction. A direction.Anydirection. “Can I walk you home?”

“Sure. I’d like that. Thank you.” Her cheeks warm with a soft blush, but she clasps her hands together and practically fucking curtsies herway past me. “Give Chief Mayet my best wishes. Unless, of course, you think it’ll end with her biting your head off.”

“I’ll assess the situation when I get home,” I assure her. “You kids have fun.”

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