Page 45 of Sinful Memory

“I’m not a child,” Cato huffs. “How dare you speak about me with such disrespect.”

“Treat him like he’s a three-year-old hyped up on sugar,” I suggest. “With sticky fingers. Give him a tour, but keep him on a leash. And don’t let him near a dead body.”

Xavier’s lips curl into a playful grin. “Yes, Chief.”

“Great.” I turn away and pat Cato’s arm as I pass. “Have fun.”

Then I keep going, and push through my office door, with Archer close behind.

“I need five minutes without our entourage.” I make a beeline for the cold coffee on my desk, and picking up the mug, I experience a moment of disgust with myself as I sip the nasty liquid.

But caffeine is more important to me than flavor, so I perch on the front edge of my desk as Archer comes to sit in the visitor chair, and I drink until I feel it in my belly. “I’m tired.”

“It’s infusion night.” He sits back and opens his legs wide, practically hugging me between them, but without making contact… since my walls, too, are glass. “Gotta treatyourhemophilia tonight, Chief Mayet.”

“Yeah, well…” I tip the mug back and desperately swallow the remaining drops. “I’ll get to it once we get home. How’s your investigation going?”

“Let’s talk about you first,” he rumbles. Partly out of refusal to discuss brains, I’m sure. But mostly born of his insistence on taking care of me. “Have you had lunch?”

“Yes.” Sad, I set my empty mug back on my desk and sigh. “Aubree made sure.”

“Have you been on your feet all day?”

I set my hands on the desk on either side of my hips, but I stretch my neck back, then side to side. “I’m on my feet every day. What have you learned about Anna today?”

“You first,” he tosses back. “Have you put more thought into those pills Doctor Cleary said to take?”

“Archer—”

“Instead of infusing every second night, prepping powder and needles, and stabbing yourself in the arm, you could take a single pill once a day. Easy. Safe. Way less room for error. Why are you arguing about this?”

“Because change stresses me out. You didn’t notice that when you were pushing yourself into my life?”

“Sure I did,” he quips. “Yet, my presence makes you happy.”

“Arch—”

“Sometimes change is good, Minka. Sometimes, change is needed for our lives to get better. You didn’t like moving to a new city, but now you wouldn’t dare leave. You didn’t like making new friends, yet you wear an anklet that matches Aubree’s. You won’t like moving out of our apartment, but you’ll love the house once we’re done.”

“Wait.” My heart thuds in my chest. “What house? We’re not moving.”

“Eventually,” he waves me off. “Take the fuckin pills, Mayet. They’re good for you.”

“Yeah? I’ll take your medical advice under consideration, Dr. Malone.”Not.“What’s happening with Anna?”

He knows I’m lying. He knows my question is as much a dismissal as the wave of his hand was. But he exhales a noisy breath and nods.

For now, he’ll drop it.

“We spoke to her head of security, Michel Heenan, then her therapist, Ever Mathers. Both confirmed that Anna was probably sleeping with a married man. We followed that trail and landed at the Copeland Condors stadium and spoke to the owner. Who,” he bites out with a surprising spike of anger, “it turns out, is affiliated with the New York Malones.”

“How so?” My curiosity piques and drags me away from our case. “Drugs? Guns? Money?”

“Money and powder. But get this: Felix came to him. Like, two months ago.”

My eyes narrow. “Is it common practice for your family to approach someone else for business?”

“No. Guys like Felix and Tim Senior carry enough power that they have a line of hopefuls all the way out the door and circling the block. They never have to go looking for associates.”

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