Page 41 of Smokescreen (Knight & Daywalker)
I scoffed at him and tossed the purple marker at his head. Constantly reminding me he was a vampire, even if he didn’t act like one most of the time, he reached up and snatched it out of the air so fast I didn’t see his arm move.
Then he tossed it up, light and slow, so I could catch it and put it back on the ledge in front of the board.
“I’ll have you know I have bought lottery tickets. On more than one occasion, no less. I’m the opposite of a pessimist.” I turned back and looked at the list as I dropped into my chair. “As far as Wu Mei, I don’t think she’s capable of having a crush. People who get crushes aren’t that jaded. They don’t leave town because someone made an implication to them.”
“Fair play,” Davin said, and it seemed to be some kind of agreement, so I didn’t demand an explanation. “Do you really have to talk to all the rest? It’s a lot of names.”
I wanted to say that I’d rather cut my own dick off with a rusty butterknife, but I was interrupted by movement at the office door. I turned to find none other than Detectives Cain and Miller standing there awkwardly.
And there I was having left the door unlocked, since we were expecting another appointment after noon.
Plus, well, technically we were a business, and we should want people to come in. I glanced over at the as yet empty third desk in the office, at the front between the waiting area and the spot where Davin and I sat, and suddenly wished we had someone there. An assistant or office manager or whatever, someone who would warn us when people were coming up to the door, or run interference if they were unwanted visitors.
Like, you know, cops.
No offense to Cain. All offense to his jerkoff temporary partner.
“Well, well, well,” Miller said as he walked in unannounced and uninvited, running a finger along the edge of the empty desk. “Isn’t this a nice setup? Come into money recently?”
I cocked my head at him in confusion. Even if he was aware that every single thing in the office was new, he ought to know at this point in his investigation that my mother was one of the richest people in the city. Why would he think it was suspicious that I had nice things? Or maybe he was just jealous. Or one of those creepy dudes who could make anything sound like a gross sexual innuendo.
Behind him, Cain buried his head in one hand with a sigh.
Davin was the first to speak up, though. “The feck are you on about? It’s office furniture.”
“And the Camaro in the parking lot? Whose is that?” The guy seemed like the epitome of a bad cop in a movie, like he was about to demand a bribe to keep something quiet. Except that I didn’t have anything to keep quiet, so that was just weird.
At that, Davin stood up, and it finally struck me that he was actually a little over six feet tall. I had noticed that he was tall before, sure, but he hadn’t been using his size to be intimidating before, and now...well hell.
Bit of a sleeper, our Davin. I’d kind of dismissed him as only sort of attractive, but there he was being hot as hell, glaring down at the weaselly little detective. After a long, silent, tense moment, he said. “Mine. Problem?”
“What are you, his dealer?”
“Miller,” Cain said, sighing, but both Miller and Davin ignored him.
“In case you hadn’t noticed, this is a place of business. We work here. Which is more than I can say you’re doing.” Heturned to me, one brow lifted. “This is the Gardaí, right? Always thought they were a little better at figuring things out.”
Miller narrowed his eyes at that, taking a step closer and drawing himself up. “What are you, a foreigner? Where from? Where’s your passport and visa? Do I need to call immigration?”
“Miller,” Cain said again, this time almost a shout. “We are not here to harass Flynn or his...business partner?”
“That’s right,” Davin agreed. “And as it happens, I’m a US citizen.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a distinctive dark blue passport book. A passport book that looked exactly the same as mine.
He must have been moved from Dublin to the US by The Senate, then. Only they could make things like that happen so quickly and seamlessly. Sensible of Davin to carry it on him, too.
“We don’t need—” Cain started, but Miller stepped forward and snatched the booklet from Davin, scanning it.
“This says you got here three weeks ago. So you arrived here before the murder?”
Cain grabbed the booklet and handed it back to Davin. “I’m terribly sorry, sir. As I was saying, we’re just here to ask...Flynn...who are those people?”
Cain was staring at our new whiteboard, with its list of murder suspects, which I’d never even considered hiding, because I was just that kind of genius.
He turned to me, blue eyes concerned but also just a little betrayed. “Half of those names were on the list at Mailloux’s house. Who are the others?”
Fuck me entirely.
CHAPTER 17
