14. We have one question.
FOURTEEN
We have one question.
Sleep was a luxury Quinn could apparently live without. I couldn’t. While I thought I’d be safe sleeping the day away in the Plaza, he disagreed.
Long before I had even dreamed of sleeping with Quinn, we had fought.
How had we gone from hating each other to…
us? After I got some sleep, I’d be able to make sense of it.
Our first real fight as a couple ended with my frustrated tears.
Why couldn’t I go back to bed? Instead, as the loser of the discussion, I got dressed in new clothes the hotel magically made appear since mine were ruined with pink neutralizer stains.
Quinn ignored my sniffled complaints and herded me to the lobby, where he proceeded to manhandle me into the back of a waiting cruiser.
To ensure I couldn’t escape, he slid in beside me. “Anything critical on the wire?”
Quinn blocked my route of escape by closing the door. Damn it.
“The CDC called Washington for support regarding our gorgon problem. They also called trying to get hold of you, Gardener. They’re expecting a call back.”
Oh. I knew the cop from her voice. Amanda seemed like the type of woman Quinn would actually pursue, down-to-Earth, wearing a uniform, and pretty enough to model if she wanted.
I was a crow to her swan, but she grinned at me as though it never occurred to her we were in two totally different leagues.
“Yippee.”
Quinn jabbed me with his elbow. “Anything else?”
“The CDC did a full sweep of your house. It’s clean.”
“Good.”
“We have one question, however.” Amanda sounded far too amused for my comfort, which meant trouble for someone.
If Quinn kept frowning so much, I would worry for the safety of everyone in the cruiser, especially after the death of his phone. “What?”
“We never took you for the lace lingerie type, Gardener. What were they doing in the chief’s bedroom anyway?”
Oh no. Had I actually left the black lace bra and panties in his room? “I was trying to kill him in a way that wouldn’t get me convicted.”
Amanda clucked her tongue. “Try dangling them from the rearview mirror of his car. That might have better results. It seems your plan didn’t work.”
She and her partner laughed.
“I see dead cops,” I snarled, reaching for the cage dividing the front and back seats. My fingers brushed the metal grate before Quinn got his arms wrapped around me and pulled me back.
“Gardener’s a little cranky today. She had a long day yesterday beating up a gorgon and may need a few more hours of sleep.”
“A little cranky? Are you sure you’re safe back there, sir?”
“I’m sure I’ll survive until we get to the station.
Relax, Gardener. You can nap in my office or in the break room.
Hey, Vanderhorn. Ask the station to dig out a pack of the transformation pills—D grade should suffice.
If any gorgons get any bright ideas, I think I’d enjoy watching them play with a napalm junkie. ”
Still laughing, Amanda’s partner relayed Quinn’s orders.
There was only one thing I could say. “I hate you so much, Chief Quinn.”
He smiled as though I had given him the best gift in the whole wide world. “I know.”
Until my first sip of police station coffee, I hadn’t considered myself a coffee snob. “What is this sludge? Am I drinking sewage? Who made this? What decade was this made in?”
Perky leaned against the doorway into the break room and pointed at Quinn. “He did. It’s the station rule. Whoever walks into the break room when there’s only one cup left has to make the new pot. You were stealing my stale chips while he was making the coffee.”
How had stale chips become a part of my diet, anyway? I leveled my best glare at Quinn. “The angels couldn’t kill me, so you’re trying to finish me off, aren’t you?”
“Think you can do better?”
Every single cop turned and stared at the police chief. I arched a brow. “Raise your hand if you think the barista with more than ten years of experience making you dipshits coffee can do better than Chief Quinn.”
Perky raised his hand. “This dipshit thinks Gardener made the best coffee in Manhattan. I cried when you stopped making coffee I could buy.”
“Who are you and what have you done with Perky?”
“It’s the truth. Even Chief Quinn liked your coffee so much he had to have it at least three times a week or he complained.”
“Perkins!”
“I’m only telling the truth, sir. The woman’s a coffee goddess.”
“Don’t you have work to do, Perkins?”
Perky made a show of checking his watch. “Oh, look at that. I have some reports to file. Please be the first person to walk into the break room when there’s only one cup left, Gardener. Please.”
Since killing a law enforcement officer would land me in jail, I turned my wrath in the direction of the coffee maker. “You bought that at a discount store for less than ten bucks, didn’t you?”
Taking a sip of his coffee, Quinn gave the white plastic machine a pat. “Don’t you be mean to Suzy. She treats us real good.”
Several cops in the main room whimpered, and I suspected a few of them cried. How could I be mean to so many heartbroken adults at one time? Even I couldn’t do it. It was worse than kicking a puppy.
“I’m going to need a ride to the bank and a trip to a restaurant supply store.” I guzzled down my cup of crap coffee, shuddered, and left the break room. “I’m also going to need a strong man willing to sacrifice his body for the sake of good coffee. Volunteers?”
Every cop in the place, even the women, raised their hands with the exception of one cranky-looking Chief Quinn.
“What do you think you’re doing, Gardener?”
“I’m kidnapping at least one cop, possibly more, so I can have good coffee. Some cheap bastard put the world’s worst coffee machine in this place, and I will not stand for it. Leave me alone, Chief Quinn. You have committed crimes against coffee in this station. Don’t you have work to do?”
“You need to call the CDC, remember? There’s nothing wrong with Suzy.”
“As soon as I’m back, I’m going to take Suzy to your office and dismantle her piece by piece while you cry and beg for me to spare the machine. Guess what? It isn’t going to work. She dies. Today.”
“You’re not killing Suzy.”
“Suzy dies. She will be replaced by a stainless steel beauty of a machine, one that doesn’t make charred, disgusting sludge instead of coffee. And you’ll like it. You will end up on your knees begging me to make you coffee.”
The cops cracked up laughing.
“You still need to call the CDC.”
I stepped to the nearest desk, which was occupied by an older gentleman. The amused cop raised both hands and rolled his chair away. “Press nine to call out, Gardener.”
Did everyone in the station know my name? Probably. I peeked at his nameplate. “Thanks, Officer Nilman.”
It took me five minutes to navigate my way through the CDC’s menu so I could speak to a real person. When the receptionist answered, I said, “This is Bailey Gardener. I’m returning a missed call.”
“Hold.”
So much for speaking to a real person. I tapped my foot and parked my ass on the edge of Nilman’s desk. “Yippee. I’m on hold.”
Satisfied I was doing what I was told, Quinn headed for his office. The instant his back faced me, I flipped my middle finger at him.
“I can see you in the mirror, Gardener.” Quinn lifted his mug and gestured to a mirror mounted in the corner over the sea of desks. “Nice try, though. And here I thought you preferred to flip me off where I could see you do it. Subtlety is not your forte.”
The line clicked and robbed me of my chance to talk back to the police chief. “You have reached the office of Marshal Clemmends. Please hold.”
Oh boy. What had I done to deserve being transferred to the head honcho’s office?
The man worked in Washington, I’d never met him in my life, and I doubted I wanted to.
I’d been to Washington exactly once, and about ten minutes after I got there, I had found a liquor store, went to my hotel room, and got so drunk I couldn’t remember why I had gone in the first place.
The hangover ranked second only to my napalm bender.
“Good afternoon, Miss Gardener. Thank you for returning my call.”
Was I actually talking to Clemmends, or was I speaking to one of his minions? Since I didn’t know, I replied with, “Sir.”
“It has come to my attention you publicly assaulted a gorgon prince.”
“Gorgons have princes?”
Good job, mouth. One day, my mouth and I were going to sit down and have a very long talk about what should and shouldn’t be said.
“Yes, Miss Gardener. According to our records, the local clan has two of them, and you assaulted the older one.”
Nice. If I was going to cause an interspecies problem, at least I went all in and beat the shit out of the oldest prince of the gorgons.
“That’s going to look so cool on my gravestone.
Look, sir. If the motherfucker hadn’t tried to assault me first, I wouldn’t have beaten him.
Do you know what rape is? Rape is when one being tries to force itself on another being.
Since rape—mine included, thank you very much—is a felony, self-defense is completely legal.
If he hadn’t tried to rape me, I wouldn’t have needed to beat the shit out of him.
He should be fucking grateful I hadn’t been armed with a knife, because I would have cut off his limp dick and fed it to him.
I am not breeding stock. So, fuck off, sir. ”
I slammed the phone down on its cradle. “The nerve!”
Was clapping over my tirade really necessary? The cops sure seemed to think so. My face flushed.
“You just hung up on your boss, didn’t you?
” Nilman rolled his chair back to his desk and grabbed his badge, wallet, and keys from a basket beside me.
“I’m off duty in ten minutes. I can take you to the bank and drive you around.
You might want to recruit some extra muscle, though.
I’m a weak, little old man as these young whippersnappers like telling me at least once a week. ”