Page 73 of Sinful Promise
Or worse, how Sophia offers her hand and shakes mine like we’ve truly never met. “It’s an honor, Chief.” She releases me, but grins when I remain stock-still and in shock. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“You’re…” I swallow down the nerves in my throat, then I look to Ellie, Sophia’s sister, and remember standing inside Emilio Pastore’s beach mansion just last week.
Ellie is sweet to the eye. Innocent to look at. But it wasn’t all that long ago that she took a pair of secateurs to a mafioso’s fingers and lobbed one straight off.
Payback for what the prick did to the very man sleeping on my couch tonight.
“Um…”
“Ellie.” As smooth as her sister, she takes my hand and lowers into a subtle curtsy. “The mayor speaks fondly of you, Chief.”
“Oh, well…”
Damn him, but the man blushes and brings up his glass of champagne. “Your work ethic is nothing short of phenomenal, Doctor. It’s certainly worth mentioning.”
“Uh, here.” My brain is too slow. My thoughts, like wading through molasses. So I shove Mrs. Mayor’s gift bag at the man, and grit my teeth when it hits with a thud. “Er… my gift. For your wife.”
“I’d rather you gave it to h—”
“Please take it,” I grit out. “I don’t want to do the awkward stuff, Mayor Lawrence. I don’t do well with these things.”
“Fine.” He accepts the bag and peeks inside at the leather briefcase,similarto mine, that Seraphina successfully went out and bought.
Approving, he closes the bag again and holds the handles so the package dangles by his thigh. “You know, I’m surprised you’ve not yet met the Solomon sisters.” He points his glass toward the duo. “I’ve always thought the three of you, plus my daughters, would get along well.”
“Oh, we just love Jen.” Sophia’s smirk grows by a thousand degrees.Should I mention to the mayor yet that Jen, his oldest daughter, is Sophia’s chemist and bombs expert? Or would that upset the guy?“She’s practically a sister to me at this point, Your Honor. I was thrilled when you invited Ellie and I along tonight.”
“Well of course.” He looks across the…is this a ballroom? And lifts his chin in acknowledgment when someone calls him their way. Bringing his gaze back around, he looks from me to Archer, then to Sophia and Ellie. “There are some things I’d like to discuss before you leave tonight, Chief. I have to ensure I’m a good host to everyone else,” he rolls his eyes toward the crowd filling the room, “but I need to speak with you.”
My heart thunders in my chest in a way it so rarely does. “Wh-what do you want to talk about?”
He glances around as though to make sure no one is within hearing distance. Then leaning closer, he has three women and one Archer leaning in too. “The vigilante.”
“Oh, for christ’s sake.” I pull back and snatch a glass from a wandering server’s tray.Champagne on infusion night? Come at me and send me over the edge.Please. “I’d rather not.”
Sophia knows who I am,whatI am, as does Ellie. And God help me, but I’ve made Archer one half of the vigilante at this point. Which means the good and caring Mayor Justin Lawrence is the only fool sitting on the outside and looking in.
“I want to talk about it as much as you do,” he grumbles, like we’re united in our frustrations. Fuck knows, we’re not coming from the same place. “But the fact is, Laramie Fentone is on the news every hour, Chief. And I’m aware you had dealings with him on more than one occasion.”
“So?” Defensive,toodefensive, an ugly scowl mars my brow. “I have dealings with all sorts of people.”
He glances to Archer. “I know Fentone is an ongoing investigation, Detective. I have no intention of interfering or discussing it in depth so as to skew your findings.”
“I’d appreciate that.” Finally, Archer speaks up. Faux-relaxed, he lifts his drink to his lips. “I can’t discuss it, anyway.”
“I understand.” But Lawrence brings his steely eyes back my way. “I need him put away, Chief. I need his case solved, his body released from your building, and his services to be complete. Because until then, he remains primetime news. And I’ll tell you what, I am—”
When that same someone calls him again, he lifts his drink and chugs half a glass. “I’m sick to death of hearing about some heroic vigilante in my city. Fentone was a monster, and as such, I’m not crying over his casket. But I don’t want there to be a movement of support for a killer of killers, heroic or not. So finish his case, tidy it up, and put him away.”
I lift my hands—though the gesture is awkward, as I try to avoid spilling my drink—and brush my fingers together. “It’s not my case, Mayor. But I’ll be sure to prompt the investigating officers to get a move along.” Then I turn to Archer and smile. “Detective, the mayor would like—”
“Yep,” he grumbles irritably. “I got it.”
“I’ll be back.” Whoever wants the mayor’s attention grows impatient and starts our way, so Lawrence looks to us, then to Soph and Ellie, before turning on his heels and meeting the guy halfway.
“So…” Sophia wears a gown of rich silver that contrasts with her long, beautiful, brunette hair. Her heels give her several extra inches of height, and when she brings her champagne glass up to drink, her biceps bulge with lean muscle that draws my eye. “Any leads on the Fentone case, Detective Malone?”
“Fucking hell.” He rubs the pads of his fingers over his temple.
