was where he was—
From out of nowhere, something pink and blond stepped in his path. “Hi!”
As he looked down at the girl, he thought . . . now he knew what tornadoes felt like when they came up to a trailer home: absolutely nothing. He’d just as soon mow her over to get to Reilly, if that was what it took.
“Hi!” she said again, like a one-note bird.
Man, too loud, too cheerful, too much flowery perfume. And what was with the lip gloss? Any more of that shit and she could give her own car an oil change.
“Hey. ’Scuse me—I’m late.”
Unfortunately, she decided to take up ballroom dancing with him, jogging right when he did, and then left. When he stopped, she took a deep breath, or arched her back, or maybe hit some kind of air compressor, because suddenly she became Jessica Rabbit with the cleavage.
If she showed any more breast tissue, she’d be getting a goddamn mammogram.
“So,” she drawled, “I was wondering if you want some coffee . . .”
“Thanks, but I’m late for a meeting.” Sidestep.
Counterstep. “Well, I could bring it to you?”
“No, thanks—”
She put her hand on his arm. “Really, I don’t mind—”
The fine Officer Reilly picked that moment to come out of IA. And what do you know, she didn’t hesitate or show any change of expression—but then again, why in the hell should it bother her that he was getting the come- on from someone?
As she passed by, she nodded at him and said hi to his nemesis.
“I’ve got to go,” he said, beyond done with the delays.
“I’ll come see you later,” Britnae called out.
“Reilly,” he hissed.
The woman he was actually after stopped in front of the sarge’s office. “Yes?”
“I really am sorry. For what I said. That was out of line.”
Reilly switched her file over to her left arm and smoothed her hair. “It’s okay. High-stress time. I understand.”
“It won’t happen again.”
“Wouldn’t matter to me if it did.”
On that note, she pivoted on her sensible heel and pushed into the waiting room.
Okay . . . ouch. But he couldn’t blame her.
Instead of following her inside, he just stood there like a plank as the door shut in his face, preoccupied by wanting to kick his own ass. Next thing he knew, the scent of fresh coffee announced that his partner had come up to him.
José de la Cruz looked tired, but alert, which was the man’s SOP. “How we doing?”
“Shitty.”
“You don’t say.” He handed over one of the two coffees in his mitts. “Drink this. Or maybe mainline it.”
“Thanks, man.”
“You ready?”
No. “Yeah.”
As they went into the office, Reilly glanced over to good-morning de la Cruz, then went back to talking to the sarge’s assistant.
Veck parked it on one of the old-school wooden chairs that were lined up against the wood-paneled walls of the sergeant’s outer office. Drinking the coffee, he watched Reilly and noticed all kinds of minute details about her: the way she fussed with her right earring, like the back was loose; how she tended to bend her leg and tap the toe of her shoe when she was making a point; the fact that when she smiled, she had a gold filling on an upper molar that flashed ever so slightly.
She was really attractive. Like,
“So, I tried to call you last night,” de la Cruz said quietly.
“My cell’s at the lab right now.”
“You really should get a landline.”
“Yeah.” He looked at his partner. “Guess they didn’t find much out there in the woods.”
“
They sat side by side, drinking out of those paper mugs with the card deck suits on them. The coffee tasted awful, but it was hot and gave him something to do.
“You thought about killing Kroner, didn’t you.” As Veck shot a glance over, the other detective shrugged. “I saw you with that paparazzo, remember. I was the one who pulled you off of him. Lot of anger.”
Veck resumed staring at Reilly, glad she was deep in conversation. Nodding in her direction, he said softly, “She doesn’t think I did it. I’m getting the impression you do, however.”
“Didn’t say that.”
“Don’t have to.”
“Nah, I saw the shape Kroner was in. Saw you, too. That’s an equation that doesn’t add up.”
“So why bring up intent?”
“Because I think it’s on your mind.”
Veck made a noncommittal noise. “If she recommends that I stay on active duty, are you going to have a problem with that.”
“No, but I think you shouldn’t be out on the streets alone right now.”
Funny, he felt the same way. And wasn’t that a bitch. “We gonna be grafted at the hip, then?”
The sarge opened his office door and stuck his gray-haired head out. “Let’s do this.”
Reilly unplugged from the assistant, and Veck and de la Cruz followed her into the larger office beyond. The conference table in the far corner was big enough to seat everyone comfortably, and she took the chair farthest away from Veck—which meant she was right across from him. No eye contact; no surprise.
Fucking hell.
“So I’ve read the report you e-mailed me,” the sergeant said to Reilly. “Anything else?”
“Just this addendum which I also sent through.” She passed copies around, and then entwined her fingers together and sat back. “I stand by my conclusions.”
The sarge looked over at de la Cruz. “Anything to add?”
“No. I’ve read the report as well and it says it all.”
“Then I’m prepared to agree with Officer Reilly.” The sergeant stared hard at Veck. “I like you. You’re my kind of cop. But I won’t keep anyone under the badge who’s a danger to others. Reilly here’s your new partner—I can’t spare de la Cruz for the probational hand-holding period I’m laying on you. Which is a month, minimum.”
Reilly showed no reaction to the reassignment, but she was a professional, wasn’t she.
“Can I work on Kroner?” Veck asked.
“Not on your life. You’ll be focusing on cold cases for the next thirty days, as well as meeting with Dr. Riccard.”
Ah, yes, the departmental shrink. And in the silence that followed, he knew everyone was waiting for him to groan, but he wasn’t a
Yeah. For example, he couldn’t dislocate his shoulder, he didn’t live on the beach with a dog, and he wasn’t rocking a death wish. You’re welcome.
“Okay.”
Sarge seemed a little surprised, but then he knocked on his table with his knuckles, which Veck took as the guy’s way of expressing satisfaction. “Good. De la Cruz, I want to talk to you. The pair of you—we’re done.”
Reilly was up and out of the office faster than a bullet, but two could shoot that quick. Veck got right on her tail, and he caught her in the outside hallway.
“So how’s this going to work,” he said.
That was all he had. The apology route hadn’t worked, and somehow he didn’t think thanking her for the report was going to fly, either.
