Minka
“I was happy to stay home with the girls!” Cato isn’t accustomed to flying commercially. The idea of lining up at security, handing his bags over, and risking an internal search alongside the other passengers— the commoners —is an offense the rich boy doesn’t swallow eagerly.
But then again, Fletch isn’t inclined to allow Cato to play happy families with Fifi and Mia while he’s out of town. Especially not after Cato’s loud and enthusiastic plans to take them out to dinner—candles included—and snuggle on the couch afterward with a movie and wine to wind down for the day.
His words.
“I was kidding about becoming Mia’s new dad.” He slaps his bag on the conveyor belt and side-eyes the TSA agent. “It was a joke.”
“You took it too far.” Tim follows up behind Cato, dropping his and Aubree’s bags into containers and rolling them onto the conveyor. “Sometimes, your jokes just aren’t fuckin’ funny.”
“You all look ridiculously suspicious, you know that, right?” I study our crowd, the Malones, who are completely incapable of not drawing eyes wherever they go. But worse, they all kind of hunch in on themselves, like their lack of weapons has left them frazzled and weak.
Commercial flights will do that, I suppose.
Cato is loud and pouting, and Aubree is… Aubree. “Did you think wearing every single color of the rainbow was the right choice today, Doctor Emeri?”
“What?” She looks down at her platform shoes, knee-high socks, a skirt that isn’t quite mini, but it’s getting damn near close to it, and a slouchy sweater shirt that should look too large and weird and unappealing for her shape but is actually entirely cute when paired with the rest of her outfit.
She bends, oblivious to Tim’s subtle blocking movement to ensure her modesty, and unties her laces.
She toes her shoes off for scanning. “This is comfortable.” She lobs the pair into another tray.
“It’s not too hot. Not too cold. I have layers, and nothing is squeezing my belly. ”
“Because you have a sensitive tummy, Doc?” Cato slinks between her and me, smirking and ducking out of the way to avoid her swatting hand. “How odd that someone who deals with death has a sensitive stomach.”
“How odd that a well-educated boy would taunt a woman who suffers travel sickness.” She empties her pockets—phone, gum, whatever other weird things she keeps hidden in the depths of her clothes—and grins.
“I promise, my aim is pretty perfect. So if I feel the need to puke, I know which way to look.”
“Please don’t puke.” Archer turns a little green in my peripherals, tossing his phone into a tray, then his wallet and keys right after. “I don’t want to deal with that shit while I’m trying to pay attention to whatever bullshit Soph is sending us toward.”
“It’s not as bad as you think it is.” I step out of my shoes and place them in a tray, then dragging my belt free of my pants, I toss that in, too, before approaching the scanner and smiling for the attendant.
“Step through, ma’am.”
“Thank you.” I play my part and prove I can be nice when the occasion calls for it, and walking through the scanner, I exit the other side without so much as a beep. “Busy today?”
“You traveling with all of them?” The attendant is large, bald, on the other side of fifty, and not entirely interested in small talk. “Six of you?”
“Yes, sir.” I catch my tray when it spits out the other side of the machine and make quick work of sliding my belt back on.
“We’re flying on official business. Detective Archer Malone,” I gesture his way as he steps through the scanner.
Then I point to Fletch. “Detective Charlie Fletcher. Copeland City P.D.”
“Cops?” Like magic, his demeanor changes, and his intolerance makes way for… slight tolerance. “And you, ma’am?”
“Chief medical examiner, Minka Mayet.” I snatch my badge from the tray and show him, if only to help smooth our way through security. “The colorful one is Medical Examiner Aubree Emeri.”
And because she doesn’t mind attention, she practically dances her way across and presents herself for inspection in front of the man at least three times her width. “You’re doing a great job, sir. Do you need to search me?”
“No, ma’am.” He waves her off and looks at Tim. “Cop?”
“Civilian,” I explain. “Married to Doctor Emeri. We’re flying out for a case, and he didn’t relish the idea of letting her go alone.”
Less trusting now, he nods for Tim to step through, and though the sensors remain silent, the guy still switches his wand-thingy on and ignores Tim’s hardened jaw. “How long will you be gone?”
“It’s open-ended for now.” The irony is not lost on me that, for today, I become our chattiest. Maybe it’s because I’m the only one in our group who knows what it is to travel commercially without drawing unwanted attention.
“We’ve been assigned to a case where remains have been discovered a couple of hours from here.
That’s all we know so far. Once we arrive, we’ll be briefed on the rest.”
“Right.” He waves Tim aside, then he looks at Cato and studies him from top to toe.
Jesus, he looks like a spoiled rich boy with three-hundred-dollar high tops and designer jeans that even someone who doesn’t care about labels would recognize.
He wears a Copeland Condor’s polo—three dollars wholesale from the sweatshops, but five hundred dollars once branding is added—and up to his, ‘ I just woke up like this ’ hairstyle.
Cato flashes a smug grin and clicks his tongue. “I look good, I know.”
“Step through, sir.” The guard leans my way. “Cop or doctor?”
“Neither.” Aubree sidles up on his other side. “But I heard him whispering earlier. He said he stuck a condom of cocaine up his butt before getting in line for security.”
“Wait.” From smug to pure panic, Cato’s entire demeanor changes. “Woah. She’s kidding.”
“Security room three.” The agent lifts his hand and alerts his colleagues. “We’re gonna check him over.”
“No! Wait!” Cato stop-signs an agent before they come too close. “She was kidding! Aubree fucking Emeri! You tell these nice people you’re kidding right now !”
“I mean…” She bends again, sliding her feet into her shoes as Tim steps forward to shield her backside.
“He might’ve said he adores the ground I walk on and promises never to be annoying again.
” She peeks up and smiles. “But since that’s unlikely, I’m sticking with my gut.
I’m pretty sure I heard cocaine, and it wouldn’t feel right to ignore my intuition like that.
After all, I swore a solemn oath to the city when I took my job as medical examiner. ”
“Let’s go, sir.” The agent grabs Cato’s wrist. “Quietly, please.”
“Aubree!”
She straightens out and beams, finger waving. “Love you, buddy. See you soon.”
I choke out a laugh and snag the rest of my things from the tray. “That was mean.”
“He’s had way too much freedom, and no one is out here keeping him accountable.” Aubree collects her backpack and slips her phone into her pocket, then turns and presents herself with puckered lips, smiling and waiting for Tim to do as Tim does.
He grips her jaw and smacks a kiss right in the middle. “I’m a little conflicted, Emeri. Because that’s my baby brother, and I’m probably supposed to protect him.”
“Aubree!” Cato fights the agent’s hold, shouting and drawing eyes all the way to the back of the line. He kicks out and earns himself two more agents that herd him backward. “Don’t you know who I am? I’m a made man!”
“It’s done now.” Casually, Archer snags our carry-on and slings his arm over my shoulders. “Let’s go. Our flight leaves soon.”
“Here’s hoping they find that cocaine quickly,” Aubree giggles. “I’d hate for him to miss the flight.”
“You joke,” Fletch grumbles, snatching up his things and staring down at his phone screen. “But if he misses the flight, he’ll go straight home to my g?—”
“To your what?”
Wide-eyed, he clears his throat and scratches his jaw. “My daughter. And Sera.”
“You were gonna say my girls .” Aubree accepts Tim’s offered hand and allows him to lead her toward the exit. “I heard everything you didn’t say just now, Detective. I like it.”
“Shut up.” He sets his small suitcase on wheels on the floor. “Start walking.”
* * *
“I can’t believe she’s making us fly economy.” I reach under my butt and search for my seatbelt, yanking the heavy metal clasp out and hitting the armrest between me and Archer with a noisy clang.
I grit my teeth and peek across at his adoring gaze. “Sorry.”
He chuckles and snaps my belt together, pulling it tight until I feel the squeeze on my stomach.
Airport workers do their thing outside my window, wearing high-visibility vests and talking into headsets, while other passengers file in and, behind us, Aubree, Tim, and Fletch take their seats.
“I don’t mean to sound so high maintenance,” I press. “I guess I’ve just come to expect a certain way of travel.”
“You sound exactly how you don’t want to sound.” Archer fixes his belt, the aisle seat to his right conspicuously vacant, and then he takes my hand and feathers his lips along my wrist. The tip of his nose. When he’s sure no one can see, he uses his tongue, too. “I fear I’ve created a monster.”
“It’s not like I need luxury in all things.” I fold my legs and drag my case files onto my lap since Soph has set me up with all the information she knows I need before I step foot on a murder scene. “I eat burgers for dinner more often than I can count. And I walk to work every day.”
“You live in an apartment with crappy cooling and heating, too.” Aubree leans forward, reminding me that our conversation is not private. “You should probably move to The Waterfalls soon, don’t you think? It’s time.”
“If you’re anxious about moving into your fancy new house, then that’s on you, Emeri.” I palm the gap between our chairs and push her back. “Don’t move. Do move. I don’t care. But don’t base your decisions on what Archer and I are doing.”