SEVEN
JUST THEN, someone else appeared in the doorway. Looking past Zard was enough to turn him around.
“Chapman,” she said to the detective, tossing her clutch onto the trolley under the lightbox. “Been a while.”
“What you doing here, Angel?” Chapman asked. “Witness tampering?”
“Yes,” she said, starting toward him. “That’s me, the career criminal… Can we talk?”
He shrugged and stepped out of the doorway.
Zard called after her. “Frey, he one of yours or not?”
Catching the doorframe, she spun to look at him, sparing only a glance at the still-frowning Baer. “Yes,” she said. “Give him the works. The usual workup.”
“Yes, mistress,” he said, heading for the door.
Giving them privacy, Zard went by and disappeared down the corridor.
“I have to take a report,” Chapman said.
“I know.” She nodded. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t talk to him… You have to do your job.”
“Then what are we doing in the hallway? This social?”
Touching her face, his fingers slipped down the front of her chin. She’d be kind and let him enjoy the fleeting moment.
Linking their fingers, she drew his hand down. “Chapman,” she murmured. “Presley is just a kid…” And then there was the ace. “It was a Monument site.”
Groaning, he extricated his hand from hers. “You ever met a kid you won’t stand in front of?”
Broadening her smile, her chin went up until her hair fell from her face. “Never yet.”
And proud of it.
She didn’t object when, with a hand on her hip, he put her back to the wall and braced his weight on a forearm above her head to lean in.
“Have dinner with me.”
“And, what?” she asked. “You won’t question the kid?”
“I’ll still have to question him… but I’ll be nicer about it.”
Toying with a button on his shirt, she avoided looking him in the eye. “You were demoted because of us. Why would you want anything to do with me?”
“I was demoted because Truman’s obsessed with you… and because screwing in police cells is against the rules.”
The memory, from far too long ago, still made her smile. That he returned the sentiment wasn’t a surprise.
“It was a peaceful protest.”
“Way you were screaming didn’t sound so peaceful,” he said, curling a finger under her chin.
“Scott,” she whispered, pressing her hands to his chest, skimming them up to his shoulders to keep their bodies apart. “We’re professionals.”
“Always forget that around you,” he said. “Shouldn’t I get a prize for enduring the marathon. Think about it, what else can Truman take from me? That man needs to let go.”
“He’s not the only one,” she said. “Would this be easier with Duncan?”
“The view is better with you,” he said and tried to dip lower again.
Giving him a harder push, she slid out from between him and the wall. “Scott,” she said. “Please, you’re not making this easier… You promised you wouldn’t be like this anymore.”
“Yeah, that’s easy to say until I have to look at you. Shit, Frey, you know how it tears me apart? How it rips at me to know what I did to you?” Coming closer, he bobbed his chin in the direction of the room. “You got here in a hurry. Who’s the guy?”
Shaking her head slowly, dread sped her blood. “The kid’s brother. No one,” she said. “He’s no one important.”
The last thing she needed was Chapman’s attention in all the wrong places.
“And this kid is one of yours.” He scanned her outfit. “You weren’t lying around your apartment in that… Where were you?”
That question, for sure, wasn’t professional. Rather than address that, she went for obtuse.
“Am I under suspicion? I don’t have to break into Monument sites. Why would I steal from Monument?”
“Why would anyone steal from Monument?” Chapman asked. “Did you get a call about the break in or the kid? You’re not top of the Monument phone tree.”
“No, I’m not,” she said. “I’m here to help Presley.”
Narrowing an eye, he closed in. “Who, if the report I got was right, has insurance and no recent injuries… I’m going to ask you again, Angel, and try not to lie to me this time… Who’s the guy?”
“The guy is his brother,” she said, lifting her hand out of his reach when he tried to touch her again.
“Are you sleeping with him?”
Glancing at her outfit, she opened her arms. “I wasn’t lying around his apartment in this either, was I?”
“What you wearing under it?”
This was why she couldn’t stand to be in Scott Chapman’s company for more than two or three minutes, it always got personal… too personal.
“That stopped being your business a long time ago,” she said, keeping her voice low because they were still just outside Presley’s room.
“And if I go in there and ask him… what will he say?”
“I imagine he’ll tell you to go suck eggs.”
Chapman snickered. “No one says that, Frey… You’ve gotta get out more.”
“Coming from the man who just accused me of being out,” she said, folding her arms. “You know, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be on this, if you’re going to be like… this.”
“Hey, if the kid did nothing wrong, he’s got nothing to worry about… And his brother…”
“What about his brother?” she asked. “His brother definitely didn’t do anything wrong. And for your report I should tell you, Monument won’t be pressing charges against Presley.”
“What about payment for damages? There’s criminal damage, vandalism—”
“He’s alive, that’s all we care about,” she said. “We’ll absorb the cost.”
He sneered. “Just the price of doing business.” She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of responding. “You’ve really got to look at a guy if his brother starts fucking with you the minute you start fucking him… Kids usually love you, what did you do to this one? Or maybe the brother sent the kid out there? Truman started on him already?”
“You need to pay less attention to my love life.”
His brows rose. “Love? Really… And here I thought you only used guys for sex.”
“Right,” she said, nodding, fired by outrage. Who did this guy think he was? “That’s right. Sex. Mm hmm. I’m using him for sex… It’s good sex too. Maybe the best… definitely better than it was with you.” The sound of him grinding his teeth fired her up, yeah, good, let him get pissed off, his mood wouldn’t shrink her infuriation. “Yes, you know what he’s really good at? Doing me hard and fast all night long. All damn night. Without any of that sweet nothings bullshit. All he’s interested in is sticking his cock in me as often as possible. That’s it. All I am to him is a pussy to pump any time he can bend me over and make me take it.” Landing her eyes on his, she didn’t restrain her venom. “And, boy, do I love to take it.”
Yanking her arm from his fingertips, she stepped backward.
“Frey—”
“If you turn this into an agenda against Presley, his brother, or any of their family, just because you think I might have the audacity to move on from us, you will learn the real meaning of Truman’s fury… You don’t think I held him back? You don’t think I saved you from the real misery he wanted to rain down on you? You should be kissing my goddamn feet, not standing here threatening a child and his family because you think it will get my attention.”
She tried to move past him, but he took her arm again, forcing her to swing out of his reach.
“Frey—”
“Who I spend time with is none of your business, Scott. You try to make it your business and I’ll make it mine to tell the world exactly what you’re capable of.” This time he let her pass. She stopped in the doorway to look back over her shoulder. “Presley’s not well enough for visitors. You want his statement? Call Jonas Bruce during business hours.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re paying for his lawyer too?”
“Goodbye, Detective Chapman.”
Owing no further explanation, she went back into the room only to find Baer right there near the door.
Chapman called after her. “This guy must be damn good in the sack.”
She and Baer held eye contact. Oh, God. Given his position, Baer must have heard most, if not all, of her and Chapman’s exchange.
“That was, uh… personal.”
He didn’t flinch. “Uh huh,” Baer said after a few seconds of silence.
“There will be paperwork at the front desk, you’ll have to fill it in. I’d… avoid Chapman if you can.”
Baer didn’t say anything else, just drew his eyes off her as he turned to leave the room.