Page 98 of More Than Nothing
He extracted himself from her grip. “And I’m keeping my side of it. You can’t complain about my attitude when you’ve blackmailed me into lying for you.”
“Zena.”
They both turned at the same time.
“Philippa. Ben.” Zena air-kissed an eerily similar-looking blonde. Roman held back a smile. He’d forgotten how closely Zena and Philippa Barrett resembled each other. It seemed Ben had a type, and his type was Professional Barbie. “Roman, you remember Philippa and Ben Barrett? I believe you met briefly at the Commerce Leadership Awards a couple of years ago.”
“I do indeed.” He shook hands with the couple. His eyes ran over them both, assessing them as they assessed him.
“Lovely to see you here together.” There was a definite undercurrent to Philippa’s words.
“We’ve been a little like ships passing in the night since Roman’s secondment. I’m fortunate he’s managed to make it tonight.” Zena kept her voice light, unruffled, a soft smile on her lips. Her shoulders were straight, her chin up.
Roman felt a moment of deep disgust at the ease with which she could stand in front of a woman she was betraying in the worst way possible. None of his thoughts showed on his face.
“It’s been a busy few months,” he said simply.
A waiter paused on the edge of their group with a selection of canapés. Ben took a couple, everyone else declined. Roman craved pizza, eaten on the couch with friends; he could almost smell it.
Zena slid her arm around his waist, lifting her other hand to rest on his chest. “I’m hoping we’ll manage more weekends together now Roman’s more settled in his new role.”
He saw Barrett’s eyes drift to the drape of blue satin that lay across Zena’s chest. The form-hugging fit of her dress was aimed to entice and it seemed to be doing its job. Damn, this was painful. He despised emotional game-playing; this was turning his stomach.
Uncomfortably hot, Roman unbuttoned his jacket and shrugged it off his shoulders. Zena was forced to step away.
“So, you were part of the Detroit PD Homicide Unit?” Ben Barrett wore his tuxedo in the casual manner someone else might wear jeans, his shoes polished to perfection. There was more than a hint of fake tan. Roman fought an instant mistrust of any man who paid that much attention to his own grooming and tipped his chin in reply. “I’m surprised you’ve stepped away. Did it wear you down?” The question was meant to needle.
“It’s a tough job.” Roman gave a bland answer.
“I guess the hardboiled detective with an iron grip on his emotions is more of a fictional concept than I realized.” Ben wasn’t going to drop it.
Roman took a long swig of his drink. “Thankfully, these days there’s a variety of stress-coping strategies available. But back-to-back murder investigations take a toll over time.” He waited for the tension to hit him, braced and expecting the worst. It was a pleasant surprise when the flashbacks, the memories, stayed at bay.
“Especially the cases you never solve, I’d imagine.”
Zena must have told him. The guy was being a dick. And even his wife seemed to notice.
“It must be incredibly challenging to stare man’s inhumanity to man right in the face.” Philippa gave him a searching look. “I have huge admiration for the people who deal with that day after day.”
Ben cut in again. “When nine out of ten women murdered in the US are killed by men they know, it must make it a lot easier to narrow down your suspects.” He raised a casually carelesseyebrow. “Handy in some ways that misogyny is such a key factor in homicide.”
“You are mistaken.” Roman’s eyes were as cold as Alaska, his voice lethal. “The key factor in homicide is death. Death, in many gratuitous forms and for a staggering number of reasons. None pleasant, none simple, and not a single one of them handy.”
Ignoring Zena’s glare and Barrett’s tightened lips, he let his gaze wander around the room and swore there’d be no rerun of this purgatory.
Chapter 46
Elenie
“I’ll do the talking. Dean’s the eyes and you’re the ears.” Frank pulled up in front of a single-story building.
The drive had taken them just shy of two hours, most of it spent in silence, tension slowly building as the rain began to hammer on the windshield. After winding through the outskirts of Flint, they entered an abandoned industrial area, bumping along roads that were rough and unfinished. Puddles already formed in the worn-down dips. Derelict and neglected units lay on either side of the track.
How unexpected to find herself just an hour away from Roman in Detroit, when she’d had no idea this job was in the offing the last time they spoke. Elenie hoped his evening was a cut above hers in the fun stakes.
She gazed past Frank and Dean to squint through the rain at the nearest building. Blinds, hanging at an angle, covered the windows of what looked like an old office. Three lockups extended to one side. Roller shutters were pulled down on two; the third was open. “What am I listening for?”
“You speak other languages. Just let me know if you hear anything I should be worried about.”
