Page 31 of Sinful Seduction
“Not a single witness. No one we spoke to has any clue who could have been involved, and no one has a suggestion for where we should look.”
“They’re closing ranks and shutting up?”
He shrugs, bringing me around a corner and into a hall where, at the end, Officer Clay stands guard in front of a closed door. “When people close ranks, they’re usually pretty obvious about it. They’re not saying they don’t know. They’re saying they’re not telling, and short of waterboarding them, which became a crime as of the third Geneva Convention, there’s not much I can do to make them talk.”
“But you don’t think that’s what’s happening in this case?” I shove the last of my sandwich into my mouth, noisily chewing around the mass. “Not that they’re refusing to talk, but that no one knows anything?”
“That’s how it looks to me. It was a chaotic, noisy, publicly committed crime, and yet, Fletch and I have got nothing.” He walks me along the hall and toward a mildly curious Officer Clay, whose eyes flicker down to my dress, then up again. He wouldn’t dare ask while we’re on the job. “Officer.” Archer lifts his chin, gesturing to the door. “Update?”
“Ms. Freemon’s parents have stepped out twice since you were last here, Detective. Once, together, and once each, separately. Bathroom breaks. Food breaks. Mr. Freemon has taken business calls throughout the afternoon… all seemed pretty legitimate. Mrs. Freemon made a call to secure care for their two other children.”
“Has she woken yet?” I tear my sandwich wrapping open and fist the second half, then I take a large, not-very-demure bite. “Even momentarily?”
“Chief Mayet.” He drops his gaze and hides the furious blush spreading across his cheeks. “I believe Ms. Freemon has woken a time or two in the last hour, but only for a few moments each time. Her parents hit the call button at each incidence, but the doctors are yet to speak to her.”
“Good.” I swallow and extend my hand. I draw the poor officer’s eyes and, for a moment, he brings his hand up, like he intends to shake mine. But Archer reads me correctly, placing the bottled water in my palm, and screwing the cap off with easy, smooth movements.
And when he realizes his mistake, Clay whips his arm back, dropping his gaze to hide the furious blush digging below the collar of his shirt.
Poor guy.
“Ms. Freemon’s vitals are okay so far? No infection? She’s not vomiting blood or anything?”
“I-I don’t think so,” he stammers. “No one has flagged anything that I know about.”
“Good.” I look up at Archer and take another bite. “You can have the other sandwich if you want. This one’s touching the edges already. You wanna head in?”
“I suggest you finish your dinner first, Chief.” He shakes his head, his lips quirking with the ghost of a smirk. “You’re already walking in there kinda messed up. Having mayo in your teeth might push them over the edge.”
“I’m so sorry.” Clay leans forward, inching into our space. “I have to know. What is…” He looks me up and down. “What’s going on?”
“I was supposed to go to prom with my high school boyfriend, but Archer found out I was two-timing him and ended it. Poor kid.” I look down at the floor and sigh. “Had his whole life ahead of him, and this is how it all came undone.”
“She was trying on dresses for Doctor Emeri’s wedding.” Archer rolls his eyes in my peripherals, squeezing my arm. “Power died, and a car accident occurred right outside the dress shop. Which is entirely expected, since my life is a constant stream of chaos and bullshit, and, as I’ve come to realize, my wife is almost always involved in some way. Chief Mayet saved a little girl’s life, but she tore up her dress and her knees in the process. Now she’s eating before she falls.”
I hook a thumb in his direction. “Basically that. Are you coming to Doctor Emeri’s wedding, Officer?”
“Uh… I’m…” Panicked, he looks to Archer. “I don’t?—”
“She’s not as scary as she looks.” He warms the side of my face with a look that speaks of exhaustion—mild amusement, too, I’m certain—then as I toss the last of my sandwich into my mouth, he guides my water-holding hand up and forces me to make my dinner soggy. “She’s exceptionally frank. Literal. Unless she’s feeling playful, at which point, her entire personality revolves around sarcasm. If you can figure out which she is at any given time—rigidly literal, or full of shit—you’ll be better equipped to navigate whatever she spouts off. Open up.” He grabs my jaw and drags my mouth open.
In response, I stick my tongue forward and make theahhhhhsound.
Satisfied, he swings his gaze back to Officer Clay. “Did you receive an invitation to Doctor Emeri’s wedding?”
“Y-yes, sir. I did.”
“Are you coming to the wedding?”
“I had RSVP’d and accepted the invitation, sir. I-is that okay?”
I choke out a goofy laugh and pass my water back to my husband. “You’re so worried about being nice to everyone, Officer. And I’m more concerned with not speaking to anyone at all. If they put us together and mash things around a little bit, they might make a regular, socially passable human being.” I meet Archer’s eyes. “Can we go in now?”
“You’re really not hungry anymore?” He holds the second sandwich between us. “You promise?”
“Promise. I’ll keep the water, but I’m done eating.” I snatch the packet and offer it to Officer Clay. “I bet you haven’t eaten in a while.”
“N-no, Chief. I haven’t.”
