Page 5 of Sinful Seduction
Copeland City was once a hub for imported products, then transported out again via the expansive trucking industry, until the things that began here stretched all the way across the country.
Ironically, the backbone of this city’s thriving economy rested upon the back-alley deals and handshake agreements made by men just like my father. Because where there’s an inlet, there are folks looking to use it to bring their products into the country, and where there are civilians ready to spend money on the things they really shouldn’t, there are fuckers like Timothy Malone the First—and Second—willing to make a deal as long as profits are good.
And when they’re done, they’ll move on quickly and quietly, with nocare for the city they leave behind. That same city that has become reliant on the dirty dollar passing through.
“Are you introspective because of the hour?” In no particular rush, Minka unbuckles her seatbelt and warms the side of my face with her gaze. “Or because of something else?”
I drag my eyes away from the bridge that holds no actual memories for me—I was born and raised in New York, and by the time I came here, my father’s presence was a thing of the past—then I bring my focus back around and show her a small smile. “Do I look introspective?”
“Brooding, maybe.” She rests her hand on mine for two beats of my heart. Three. But then she releases me again and pushes out of her side of the car.
So I follow, shutting my door and moving to the trunk so I can snag her murder kit before she gets to it.
“You seemed to change a little when we pulled up.” She keeps her voice low so the uniforms waiting by the tape remain oblivious to her words. And though she walks by my side, her shoulder touching mine, she doesn’t take my hand. She doesn’t wrap herself around me the way we both so enjoy.
When we’re working, we don’t get to be Mr. and Mrs.
We’re the Chief Medical Examiner and her lowly homicide detective.
“Your eyes shifted toward the bridge and you just kinda…” She ducks under the tape, straightens, and waits for me to do the same. “Got a little darker, I guess. Which sounds totally kooky now that I’m saying it out loud.” Her cheeks warm with mild embarrassment. “Ignore me. Clearly,I’mthe introspective, weird one.”
“I was thinking about my father.” I catch sight of Aubree’s bright-pink-streaked blonde hair on the other side of our scene. Her arrival, on the opposite side with a different length of tape and a different officer lifting it up for her to move beneath. Tim stops and folds his arms, watchful and intense. But he doesn’t bully the uniform to let him across. He doesn’t make a mess where no mess is needed. His eyes swing to me instead. Greeting. Trust. Like he knows I’ll protect her now that I’m here and legally allowed on the same scene as she is. “I was thinking about how this bay used to have millions, probably even billions, of dollars of product pass through a while back. Half of it was legitimate: electronics, homewares, cars, whatever. But the other half was Malone.”
She peeks up from the corners of warm brown eyes. “That would make anyone thoughtful.”
“It’s a matter of reconciling what I know was bad—drugs, deals,money laundering, and worse—with an economy that enjoyed the fiscal upswing that came with it. Regular folks benefited from the money my family brought into this city, but those same folks were victims, too. How many have lost their lives to addiction? How many lost loved ones? Cops who came a little too close to what was happening here were given two options: help, or die. Kids lost parents. Parents lost kids. Fletch…” I gesture toward my partner, already crouching beside a dead body. “Lost his wife.”
“That wasn’t your fault.” Minka grabs my wrist and slows our steps to buy a few extra seconds of privacy before we join the others. Tugging me around, she stares up at me and frowns. “That wasn’t even Malone’s fault. Jada started using long after your father left Copeland.”
“I know. But dealers and suppliers… andthiscity? It all began with us.” I cast my eyes toward the bridge. “That’s all I was thinking about. How this area used to overflow with money. Now it overflows with despair and people down on their luck. So many of them freeze in the winter, and those who don’t, boil in the summer.”
“Archer—”
“I’m not internalizing it.” I want to reach out and smooth the deep line dug between her brows, but already, cameras document our scene. Cops watch us, and Aubree’s eyes sling this way.And now that we know what we know about her…“It wasn’t my fault, and I left the family before I was even an adult. And then, to rebel, I became a detective like that might rebalance the scales a little.” I glance toward our dead body and start forward again. “Now here we are, back in the bay some could say I was born to inherit, with a dead body I’ll find justice for.”
“Detective Malone.” Fletch drags my name across his tongue and peers over his shoulder. He looks from me to Minka. Twice. Three times. Then he purses his lips.He knows we were fucking. “Nice of you to join us.”
“No need to pout, Detective Fletcher. You’ll get yours eventually." Minka takes her murder bag and moves around to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Aubree. They’re a team, a united front, though medical examiners typically work in isolation. She places the bag on the ground, far enough back not to mess with her scene, then she folds her arms and studies the body laid out between us. “He seems kinda young.”
“Just a teenager.” Fletch pushes to his feet, setting his hands on his hips and taking a step back until we’re unified. Two of them. Two of us. “No ID, no wallet. Could be a robbery gone wrong. He might be early twenties, I suppose. Maybe. But I don’t think so.”
“We’ll start the record.” Minka goes to search her bag, but Aubreemoves quicker, snagging the small device and placing it in her boss’s palm. “Thank you, Doctor Emeri.” She hits the button on top and stands taller. Straighter. Like being on the job forces her into a role not quite the same as the woman she is at home.
And that… I realize now, is a new development. Because a year ago, she was the same woman everywhere.
“Chief Medical Examiner Minka Mayet is on scene with Doctor Aubree Emeri and Detectives Archer Malone and Charlie Fletcher. It’s Monday, July eighteenth, and…” She looks to Aubree.
“Eleven forty-seven p.m.”
Minka nods her thanks.
“Eleven forty-seven p.m. Vic appears to be late teens, perhaps early twenties. Male. Clean-shaven, with inch and a half long, dark blond hair.”
“Might not be robbery, detectives. He’s still wearing a thick gold chain around his neck.” Good at her job, Aubree takes out a camera. “And another on his left wrist. They appear to be genuine.”
“Visible bullet wound to the vic’s chest,” Minka continues. “We’ll turn him shortly and look for an exit wound.”
I cast my eyes around the area, from the bloodied blacktop the boy lies on, to the sidewalk that leads around a section of the bay. Couples probably walked these paths thirty years ago, hand-in-hand while they watched the ships come in. I look past the dozen police cruisers and the two dozen uniforms already working on crowd control, and then I stop on an open cruiser door, a uniformed officer sitting on the back seat with his feet on the ground outside, his elbows on his knees, and his head dangling with exhaustion.
