Minka #2
The diner door opens again, the bell above jingling, wild and loud. But I focus only on Soph. On the guilt that flashes across her face.
“Sophia? What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything!”
“Boss?”
Stunned, I spin in my seat and lock eyes with Raquel. My Raquel. Copeland City Raquel. I blink once. Twice. A third time. And when that doesn’t help, I shake my head and slide off the stool and onto my feet. “Doctor Raquel? What the hell are you doing here?”
“Uh… I could ask you the same thing.” She wanders in wearing denim shorts, flip-flops, a tank top, and what I know is a bikini beneath it all, considering the strings that hang over her chest. She saunters to the counter with two fingers pointed to the sky—like two means something to the server—then she rotates and rests her elbows on top.
She looks over our crowd and dips her chin in hello.
“Detective Fletcher. You’re wearing the wrong outfit for vacation.
” And while he looks down at his jeans and shirt, she scans the others.
“I know some of these faces. Not all of them.”
“I’m Jess.” Jess fights Kane’s grip, slapping his hands away and stumbling out of the booth and onto her own two feet. “Ellie, Jen, Kane. Jay, Corey, Spencer.” She points to each, one after the other, then she looks to the Malones. “You probably know them, since you know Mayet.”
“Christabelle Cannon,” Aubree picks up the baton. “She’s Felix’s. You probably know Micah and Felix already. And I know you know Tim and,” she gestures toward the window. “Cato.”
“Why are you here?” I slap my case file closed, frustration beating like a drum in my veins. “You’re supposed to be at a wedding this weekend, no? That’s what you said.”
“Oh no. Oh, oh, oh, no.” Alarmed, Raquel straightens out and takes a step toward the door. “Don’t do that, kid.”
“Don’t do…” I follow her gaze to Cato and the pretty girl outside. “Don’t do what?”
He grabs her, smiling and flirty and a little too friendly. And like she’s the Hulk in disguise, she folds his hand back in a flash, flipping him with a violence that brings Felix racing to the door, then she lays him out on the sidewalk with a thud that, I could swear, rocks the ground.
“Oh shit!” Jen bounces off Corey’s lap and sprints to the door. “Dude! You okay?”
“The fuck?” Micah darts through the door. “Hey!”
“Don’t touch unless you’ve been invited to touch!” The woman stands over Cato’s flattened body and slams her foot to his wrist, pinning it to the ground when he’d rather stroke her leg. “No!”
“Don’t kill her!” Raquel sprints outside and into the street, skidding onto the hot black tar and squeezing herself between the girl and an enraged Micah. “Chief!? Little help, please.”
I leave my bag and case file behind. I leave Soph, too, and striding through the diner door and over the sidewalk, I step into the street and cross to our newest friggin’ incident . Finally, I look down at an entirely too smiley Cato and blink. Blink. Blink. “What the hell are you doing?”
“He grabbed me,” the girl—a woman surely, but barely older than Cato himself—folds her arms. “I didn’t say he could.”
“I like a dominant woman,” Cato purrs. “Turns me on.”
“Gross,” Raquel groans. “That’s my baby sister, man.”
“Your sister?” I look from one blonde to the next. Same eyes, same plump lips. Hell, they have the same cheek structure and almond-shaped eyes. But it can’t be… I can’t… my brain doesn’t…
Puzzled, I glance back at the diner in search of help. Backup. A freakin’ explanation, maybe. But Sophia remains at the counter, eating her meal, and Archer merely stares with one hand pressed to his bare hip and the other to Felix’s shoulder to hold him back.
His mission is to stop shit from escalating.
Shaking my head, I bring my focus back around and cling to Raquel for sense. “Explain this to me. Because I don’t often arrive at a scene and have such little understanding of what the hell is going on.”
“I can tell.” She twines the loose bikini string around her finger. “So my name is Raquel…”
A ferocious snarl escapes my lips.
“Shorter version? Okey dokey! This is Eliza—she’s my baby sister.” Then she looks at Eliza and points at Cato. “That’s Cato Malone. He’s a flirt and, turns out, tried his luck with a world champ.”
“World champ?” Cato questions. “World champ, what?”
“Fighter, you dipshit.” Eliza grinds her heel into his wrist. “You know my sister? And you still thought it was cute to touch without permission?”
“I was only gonna tell you I liked your hair.” He wiggles his fingers, smirking. “It’s a move. Tried and tested.”
“I’m not a woman who accepts tried and tested bullshittery. And you were doing so well, too.” She lifts her foot and takes a step back, folding her arms and watching him with dripping disdain as he crawls to his hands and knees. Then to his feet. “You’re cute. Confident. Loud. I like that shit.”
The boy has no shame. No embarrassment. He straightens his shirt and sidles in closer again. “You like me?”
“No!” She shoves him back and, I swear to God, stands the way I know fighters stand. Left leg forward, right leg back. She brings her hands up and prepares to shatter his eye socket. “The fact you know my sister at all is the only reason you live.”
“Why are you even here?” Frustrated, I wrap my hand around Raquel’s wrist and spin her back to me. “Make it make sense!”
“I already put the paperwork on your desk. Twice!” She laughs. “And I reminded you yesterday. And I emailed you this morning, since I figured you were in the office and couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t there.”
“I remembered. You’re off for the weekend, for some wedding in the middle of nowhere.”
“Yup!” She gestures along the empty street. “The middle of nowhere.”
“This is your town?” I look left, past the diner… the bakery… a drugstore… then I look right and spy a bookstore… a grocery store… and a little ride-on toy horse with a little kid, three or four years old, happily riding it. “What?”
“You got an invitation to the wedding, too?”
“No! I got a case.”
“We got a DB out here?” From playful to… well, still playful, she inches closer. “Who died? Was it Barbara? She’s old and bitchy as hell, so?—”
“I don’t know who died! I’m trying to figure it out.”
“What are the chances your case would be in the same town as this delicious specimen?” Cato bites his lip and looks a ferocious Eliza up and down. “Your rage is hot.”
“Dude!” Raquel smacks the side of his face. “No.”
Fury bubbles in my blood, warming my veins and curling my fingers, and because I’m not accustomed to looking stupid for long, I turn on my heels and leave this family drama to deal with itself.
I have my own. “Sophia Solomon!” I stomp across the street and slam the diner door open, so when Kane, Jay, and Corey create a wall of muscle that separates me and their overlord, which brings Archer, Tim, and Felix forward to allow me the same protection, it all makes so much more sense.
“What did you do, Sophia?”
She fists her burger and fills her mouth.
I push Archer aside and slip between Sophia’s crew, and snatching her plate, I tear the burger from her hands and slap it down again. “What are you doing?”
“Why are you so angry?” Maddeningly calm, she sips her shake instead. “You’re making a scene, Chief Mayet. It’s unprofessional.”
“Who is the DB, Sophia?” I whip the file open and slap the most frustrating image down where her burger was a moment ago. The one with the fucking registerable knee replacement. “Who is she? What game are you playing?”
“Alright. Fine.” Carefully, she sets her shake down and raises both hands in surrender. “Don’t be mad.”
“Sophia!”
“So, I was invited to this wedding in the middle of nowhere, and I didn’t want to drive all this way.”
“The fu?—”
“I knew if I got you out here, I’d get New York, too. And they have a plane.”
“Time to cool this down.” Jay slinks between me and his wife. “Hormones are syncing, and girly moods are escalating.”
“Are you fucking serious?” I fist his shirt and toss him out of the way. “You got me out here for a free ride? You told Felix we were in danger FOR A FREE RIDE?”
“You’re escalating an already tense situation, Chief.” Spence tries next, pressing just a single finger to my arm. It’s a boundary, but without actually manhandling me. In the spirit of not escalating shit. “This is why we eat before tempers get out of control.”
“Take your fucking hand off her.” Archer steps between us and wraps his palm around Spencer’s wrist. Firm, but waiting. Holding, without yanking. “Now.”
“There’s no DB, is there, Sophia? None at all.”
“Technically…” She pushes off her stool and comes around to break Archer’s grip on Spencer. She splits them, then stands between. “No. There’s no DB.”
“There will be in a minute!” I dive forward with my fist balled. “I’m gonna destroy you!”
Quick as a flash, Archer sweeps me up and places himself between me and her. “Can’t let you fight, Minnnka. I don’t know how to handle that situation.”
“Let me go!” I try to peel his hands off my torso, folding his fingers back and bending his wrist. “You had a million options, Sophia! A million other choices that didn’t include pulling Fletch away from his child. Debbie away from the safety of her delivery team. Me away from my office.”
“My name is Christabelle,” Christabelle huffs. “Not Debbie.”
Sophia snorts. “It’s cute how you put the office last, like you think we don’t already know about your unhealthy obsession with work.”
“Cato’s out there getting beat up by a chick! And Micah left Tiia in New York, because he thought he was flying toward danger. All for what? Your family vacation?”
“Why’d you pack an entire arsenal, then?” Felix demands. “Why bring so much firepower?”
“You came for me.” Aubree brushes past Tim and stops beside me.
Her shoulder to mine. Her hand on my arm.
Jesus, she has this ability to suck the rage right out of my body and replace it with…
calm. Then she oh-so-easily parts the sea of men and glares at a sheepish Sophia. “All of this was for me?”
And there goes my peace. “You didn’t!”
“You want my mind reader?” Felix snarls. “She’s ours!”
“If you just let me run some tests, I’ll leave you alone. I have an experimental headset. It won’t even hurt,” Soph explains. “I just wanna see what you see, Emeri. Just for a minute. Then I’m done.”
“I’m gonna kill her!” I dive again, fists first, and swing. “You’re gonna die, Sophia!”