Page 39 of Mister Concierge

“Who is it?” I asked, opening the passenger door of my Audi so she could get inside. We’d spent the afternoon horseback riding. Well, she was riding. My ass was falling. Now, I didn’t want to do shit but go home, shower, and lay up under her pretty ass.

“Sanders.”

“Might be good news. He hasn’t called in a while.”

Nodding in agreement, Cartier answered the call with, “Hey, Detective Sanders.”

I closed the door for her and headed to my side. Before getting in, I returned my mother’s call. We talked frequently, but I hadn’t seen her or my father in about a week. After Cartier and I got back from our spontaneous trip, I devoted myself to getting caught up with work.

“Hey, son,” she answered, and just the sound of her voice made me smile.

“Hey, Ma. How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“I’m well. What’s your schedule like? I wanna come see you.”

“That’s actually why I was calling. Haley’s coming over for dinner with your father and me. Are you available?”

“Yeah. I can come through. Same time?”

“Same time.”

“Need me to bring anything?”

“Just Cartier. I hear she’s staying with you.”

My head shook and eyes lifted toward the sky as I smiled. Haley couldn’t help but tell my damn business when it came to our parents. I wasn’t hiding the fact that Cartier was staying with me; I just didn’t want them questioning me about it. If anyone saw the devastation of Mariah’s absence in my life, it was my parents. They were the only people I felt comfortable truly expressing my grief with. We all were protective of each other, and I didn’t want them questioning me about what I was doing with Cartier. Hell, I didn’t even know what this was myself.

It was supposed to be about sex… Cartier’s healing and freedom… but it was obvious it was more than that.

“Temporarily. Yes.”

“Mhm. What’s that about?”

“Ma, don’t start, and please don’t mention it tonight.”

She sighed, and I imagined the difficulty she would have keeping her mouth shut. “Fine, but…”

“I’ll see you later, okay? I love you.”

She groaned, and I laughed. “I love you too.”

After disconnecting the call, I finally got into the car. Cartier’s call was over, and her expression was neutral.

“Everything okay?” I checked.

“Someone recognized my sketch and gave them a nickname. They traced the nickname and was able to find out his real name. But they don’t have him in custody yet.”

“That’s great news, Tink.”

“Yeah,” she agreed quietly. Sadly.

“What’s wrong?”

“When they catch him, he wants me to come and ID him.”

“Would you be comfortable doing that?”

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