Page 26 of Mine to Save

CHAPTERSIX

Emmett leaned against the hood of his personal SUV and waited for his brother, Rhett, who was late—which was normal. Emmett tried to keep his frustration in check as he sipped his coffee, but no matter how often he practiced a little Zen breathing and thinking, Rhett had a way of making Emmett lose his cool.

He glanced at his watch.

Only five minutes late.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t Rhett who’d gotten Emmett all riled up. Perhaps it could be a long, sleepless night and the fact that he’d had to take a cold shower because a certain female had occupied his mind all night.

It had been a long time since a woman had gotten under his skin this way.

Emmett blew out a puff of air before downing the last of his bitter brew and starting in on the special blend he’d brought for his brother. Fuck it. He’d understand, and if he didn’t…oh, well.

Unfortunately, the coffee wasn’t all that hot anymore. Emmett tapped his foot against the pavement, doing his best to rid himself of his irritation.

The sound of a motorcycle caught Emmett’s attention. He glanced over his shoulder and sighed.

He wasn’t going to share. Not today.

Emmett did his best to chug the coffee.

Rhett screeched to a stop. He kicked the stand, rested the bike on it, then lifted his big, black helmet off his head. “Hey, bro. How ya doing?”

“I’m fucking annoyed. Why can’t you be on time at least once in your life?”

“Mom says I’ll be late for my funeral.” Rhett narrowed his eyes. “But I’m not really late.”

“If I had to wait, I consider that late.” Emmett really shouldn’t take this out on his Irish twin, but they’d been doing this kind of shit since they were toddlers.

Rhett pointed to the empty cup on the hood of the vehicle. “Is one of those for me?”

“It was, but since you were late, I drank it.”

“Of course, you did.” Rhett let out an exasperated sigh. “But it wasn’t because I pulled up about eight minutes past our designated time of arrival.” He set his protective headgear on the back of his bike and took off his leather jacket, which he never rode without, no matter the weather. He’d fallen once and had ripped the hell out of his back, so now he wanted that added layer of protection.

Emmett had told him to get rid of the bike, but the moment Krista walked out of Rhett’s life ten years ago, Rhett had developed a bit of a daredevil personality and enjoyed pushing the limits; doing things like jumping from perfectly good airplanes.

Why anyone would want to go hurtling toward Earth while holding onto a string and pulling at the last second, hoping that a flimsy piece of fabric would open and save them from landing face-down in the dirt like a raindrop going splat was beyond Emmett.

Of course, of all the kids, Emmett was considered the least likely to break the rules and do anything dangerous, which was an oxymoron since he was a cop and did something that could potentially take his life every time he strapped on his weapon and got in his police car. But whatever. He let his family tease him because they all had their quirks.

“I bet it had something to do with Trinity. Jamison said the two of you made for a cute couple. He agrees with Mom.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you.” Emmett shook his head. “I know you haven’t had much time, but did you find anything out?”

Their mother had been disappointed that Rhett opted to stay in the private sector. She’d always believed he would make a wicked detective, and Emmett had to agree. His brother’s deductive skills were better than anyone else’s in their family. He had an uncanny ability to see things in ways no one else could. It was amazing to watch how he solved puzzles.

“That federal agent, Jenna Robash, is an interesting character, but I suppose you know that,” Rhett started. “She’s got a reputation for being a real hard-ass. She’s notorious for getting stuff done and runs a tight ship. Everybody in the department respects her, but she butts heads with many people. My buddy up in the DC office used to work with her and said she doesn’t take critiques well from those below her or not in her world. If you’re not her boss or someone who can help her career, your opinion doesn’t matter. And she begged to have the Adultery Killercase for two months before her boss agreed to give it to her.”

“Who had it before her?”

“An agent out of the Miami field office by the name of Frank Cotania.”

“That’s where the killings started.” Emmett pinched the bridge of his nose. “Was Cotania screwing up or something? Were their complaints about his performance or how he was handling the case?”

“That’s just it,” Rhett said. “From what I’ve been told, Cotania was doing a fine job and has an exemplary record. When the Miami Police Department found a fifth body that fit the killer’s profile, they decided to ask the FBI for help. They worked closely with Cotania, who doesn’t take over like Robash does. He prefers to play nice with the locals, though he still likes being the boss. I haven’t spoken to him yet, but I was thinking I might take a ride to Miami today. It’s always better to talk to these people face-to-face.”

“Agreed.” While Emmett had never worked in a big office, he understood that every law enforcement officer wanted that one case that could make their career. Generally speaking, it wasn’t about making a name for oneself, at least not in the public eye, but about proving to yourself and your superiors that not only did you have what it took, but also that you would always bring it.

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