Page 56 of The Piece You Stole

Whatever the deal is with them, neither one looks like they’ve had anything approaching a good night.

I don’t know what they’re saying, but whatever it is, has Kade transfixed and not in a good way. Predatory. Like a cat watching two mice, moving closer and closer to its claws.

My gaze returns to the two men who, from their shirts and ties, must be detectives. From their furious whispering, whatever case they must have been working on has just gone down the toilet.

But they’re not important. We came here for Saige, and she isn’t here, which means we need to find her some other way. Dariel is right, we’re just wasting time here. Shaking my head, I shift my focus to Kade. When he doesn’t want to listen to Dariel, he will sometimes listen to me. “Kade, let’s go.”

Nothing.

I’m reaching out to grab his arm and pull because, while he might not have a problem with making himself comfortable right there, he’s starting to attract attention from the cops at their desks. Sooner rather than later, one of them is going to wander over here and demand to know why he’s parked himself against their wall at four a.m. And if Kade decides to be flippant…

A cop walks past, leading the crying French woman with the stolen handbag out of the room. I take in the clipped gun holster, holding what I know will be a Glock 9mm, and realize we should have left Kade outside in the car.

I must not be the only one getting concerned about Kade’s intense focus on the two detectives, because Dariel snaps at Leandro to go wait outside and reaches for Kade’s other arm. Leandro positions himself nearby, pastes an innocent smile on his face, and doesn’t move.

Great. Something else that could go wrong.

The detectives' voices rise loud enough that for the first time, I hear the dark-haired cop.

“… fucking crook. We all know Eli Santino only takes on the guilty, and that slut was fucking guilty of something, Bradley.”

We’re in a police station, which means there has to be dozens of cases concerning hundreds or even thousands of people every single day.

Whatever reason Kade has decided to focus his attention on these two cops doesn’t mean it has anything to do with Saige.

Even though I’m getting a creeping suspicion that it does.

I return my focus to Kade. My creeping suspicion shifts into outright alarm when I take in the barest hint of a smile playing on his lips.

I glance at Dariel. He’s closed his hand around Kade’s arm, but he’s not dragging him out. At least not yet. From the tension around his mouth, that’s a matter of when, not if. He must know it could trigger Kade to attack, and two shifters brawling in a police station will end badly for everyone.

Maybe I can get him to listen. “Kade, let’s just—”

Kade holds his palm toward me in a sign to stop talking. He nods at the cops so subtly that I only catch it because I’m looking so closely at him. At the same time, he mouths something. One word.

A name.

Saige.

I angle my head toward the cops, wondering how Kade could have guessed so soon that they were talking about her.

The blond cop reaches for a small plastic cup of coffee, sips from it, and then wrinkles his brow in disgust before setting the cup aside. “So, we won’t be able to pin the dad on her, or even the animal attack, but we can definitely get her for Bristowe. She was the only one in the car, Ferdinand, and we have witnesses. Wouldn’t take much to scare a confession out of her.”

I grind my teeth.

Scare a confession out of her? Is that how cop work is done? Shit, no wonder Kade is eyeing them like dinner.

His partner snorts. “We had her for fucking hours. She didn’t talk, and now that she has that slimy prick Santino, she won’t. We had our chance, and we fucking blew it.”

There’s more going on here than my fuzzy head can process. A lot more.

Who is Bristowe? And what exactly are they looking to pin on Saige?

The blond cop stifles a yawn as he turns to the machine and stabs at a button, setting the machine whirling loudly. “We have to go after Rylan Treveiler. There’s no way he wasn’t involved if he called Eli in like that. My gut says they were in it together. Maybe she knows something about him.”

My head pounds as I work to piece together the fragments of their conversation.

The dark-haired cop snorts. “As if it’s going to be that easy getting a man like Treveiler. No, we’d do better sticking with the slut.”

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