Minka
“Ineed you to tell me the truth, Mayet.” Sophia Solomon is so rarely rattled. She’s a fortress of hard lines, unfaltering confidence, intelligence far outstripping anyone else we know, and she’s not the type to let someone else—her enemy, in this case—shake the foundations on which she stands.
But she calls me for the third time today, her teeth gritted and a certain intensity in her voice that reminds me of an addict strung out, desperate for their next hit.
“I like candy. I like knowing I can eat whatever I want, whenever I want, and my metabolism will take care of it. I like knowing who my fucking rivals are! But Aubree’s out here doing that thing she does, and she’s predicting my death! ”
“So, ask her about it.” I swallow my laughter and settle back in my chair, staring out at the city that swelters with heat. “Your beef is with Aubree. Not me. I’m way too logical-minded to understand her foo-foo.”
“She doesn’t remember the foo-foo! She wasn’t her in that moment. She was a fucking angel of death, delivering a message, and when she was done, she went back to being the weird hippie she is.”
“So what exactly do you think I can do about it?”
“I don’t know! She’s your friend. She’s your hippie. Figure it out and tell me who I have to kill before they kill me.”
“Everyone warned you to leave her alone.” I look inside my coffee mug, desperately considering the dregs of cold, long-ago leftover caffeine that, admittedly, has a tiny fly floating at the top.
“You picked, picked, picked. You called her fake and a phony, and even when she was gracious and kind, not rising to the bait, you kept pushing.” Sighing, I set my mug down again.
“You demanded proof of what she can do, and then you got it. I don’t know what else to tell you. ”
“You can tell me who on my crew is gonna take me out. Tell me who to watch.”
“I don’t—”
“I haven’t had a single candy bar in more than a month, Chief! I’m losing the plot over here.”
“What even is happening with that case, anyway?” Tormenting her, I change the subject—ish—and smile as the elevator doors open outside my office and none other than the devilishly handsome Detective Malone steps out.
He’s here, which means I get to go home and eat something.
“Have you heard anything? Did they dig her up?”
“Yeah. They brought a medical examiner in from out of town and had the machinery on site within a couple of days. Blunt force trauma to the head. I haven’t checked in since then, so I don’t know what else they’ve got.”
Archer strides through my door, his eyes dancing with a playfulness that has me considering sex before infusion. Get to the good stuff before the admin.
“But let’s circle back to my first point,” Soph demands. “Aubree?”
“Already left for the day, and hasn’t spoken of… the incident since it happened.”
“I’m calling Jericho, woman! I’m saying—”
“I can’t help you.” I swallow my bubbling giggles, tucking them deep in my chest before they get me in trouble. “But seeing as how she found that body without knowing it was there, and then predicted the candy thing, I’d heed her warning and steer clear of all things sugary for a while.”
“I’ll just pop them all,” she growls. “Riley’s cool and all, but I’m not that attached. Gunner’s always pissing me off, and he hit on me that one time, so he could probably go, too.”
“If they go missing, I’ll be sure to make myself available to the investigating officers.” I straighten in my seat and watch, captivated, as Archer comes around and perches on the edge of my desk. With a wolfish grin, he takes my free hand and places the tip of my pointer finger between his teeth.
“Chief, I need you to—”
“I’m hanging up now.” I cough and clear my suddenly dry throat. “Don’t kill anyone. See you Saturday.”
“Fuck you very much!” She slams her phone into the cradle, the loud crack bouncing in my ear. But I set my end down far gentler and meet my husband’s teasing eyes.
“I’m thrilled to see you at this hour, Chief.” He nibbles on my fingertips. “Unharmed.” Bite. “Not asleep on your feet.” He suckles on the end. “Not even particularly pale.”
“Isn’t it crazy what a full night’s rest and a big lunch will do for a woman?” I switch my computer off and toss my things into my bag, all one-handed. Then I rise to my feet and trade my fingers for my lips, dropping a kiss right where his are thickest. “You seem happy. Solve your case?”
“Close. I’m just waiting for a confession. You wanna go out on a date with me tonight?”
“A date?” Surprised pleasure swirls in my stomach, so I twist out of his reach and cross my office, shrugging my white coat off and hanging it on the rack. “What’s the occasion?”
“Love.” He snags my bag and follows me to the door, taking my arm in his firm grip. “I was a boy from a dark world, and there have been a million chances for me to slip.”
“Ooo… kay?”
“But you make it so the line I will, or won’t, cross…
it’s wrapped around you.” He pulls me closer and cups my cheek, stroking my flesh with the pad of his thumb.
“I love my family, and I’ll go to war for them.
I love Fletch and Moo. I love Aubree. I even kinda like Clay enough to wanna keep him safe.
I’ll protect them all. But you’re my line, Minnnnka.
You. And I guess I realized today, our love didn’t make me soft.
It just gave me a reason to keep that line safe.
” He leans in and places a feather-soft kiss on my jaw.
“I love that I get to love you. You’re the best thing about my day. ”
“Even when I’m threatening to choke your baby brother out?”
He snickers and backs away, swinging the door wide, then he leads me out of my office and into the elevator. “Even then.”
“Even when I’m pitching a fit because someone used the last of the coffee. But it turns out I’m someone. I was the coffee thief.”
Turning back to face the doors, he slings his arm over my shoulders. “Especially then.”
“Even when I was engaged to Tim that one time? It was only for a minute. It didn’t mean anything.”
“Absolutely. You can keep tossing even whens at me, and you can include your lack of cooking, abuse of caffeine, short fuse, bossiness inside and out of the bedroom, and your refusal to move to a perfectly good house when we have one sitting right there, empty and waiting for us. None of it will make me not love loving you.”
“Good to know.” I cuddle into his side while we have privacy. For the moment it takes for the elevator doors to slide closed, and then for the neutral-cube-of-something-something to move from the ninth floor to the ground. “And yes. I’d like to go on a date with you tonight.”
He leans back, peeking down and meeting my eyes. “Yeah?”
“Mmhm. But can we order takeout and have our date in our bedroom? There are fewer people there, I won’t have to dress up, we can bang before we eat, I can infuse after, and then I get to fall asleep snoring on your chest.”
“Sounds perfect.” He drops a noisy kiss on the top of my head, pulling away in the exact moment the doors open and the security guard waiting behind the main desk glances up. “Wanna stop in and see Steve on the way past?”
“You don’t mind?” We move together, our steps in sync and his arm slung over mine despite being in public again. But none of that matters in my mind, because my eyes go to poor Mrs. Beecroft, still perched in her chair.
Still grieving.
Still waiting… to figure out what the hell she’s meant to do with the rest of her life.
Dammit.
“Hang on.” I peel myself free of Archer’s grip and gesture toward security for the second night in a row.
Call a car. Do whatever it is you did last night.
“Mrs. Beecroft?” With a gentle sigh, I step around her chair and lower into the one somehow dubbed mine.
“You really shouldn’t be here, Donna. It’s not—”
I stop and frown, tilting my head to the side.
She looks like she’s asleep. Her eyes gently closed, her chest relaxed and still.
“Mrs. Beecroft?” I carefully drag the purse from her double-fisted grip and set it on the floor, then I take her wrist in my left hand, placing my fingers where I should feel a pulse.
“Everything okay?” Archer meanders closer, his brows pinching together. “Minka—”
“She’s gone.” Giving up on her wrist, I search for a carotid pulse instead. Just to make sure. “She’s already cold.” Shaking my head, I keep my hand on her shoulder, propping her up when her arm falls heavily to the side, and look back to security. “Come over here, please.”
“I’m calling a cab, Chief. I’ll stay with her till—”
“No need. She’s deceased.”
His face drains dangerously white.
“You need to call the…” Jesus. The morgue, I suppose. And that’s us. “Call an ambulance, please. Have the paramedics pick her up.”
“D-dead?” he stammers, dropping the phone and stumbling around his desk. “She’s dead, Chief? Are you sure?”
“Kinda my job to be sure.” I search the woman’s face, the soft lines marking countless years in love, and the peaceful acceptance that makes death look almost beautiful.
For the first time since we met, she looks something other than defeated.
“Call an ambulance,” I repeat. “That way, they’ll put her in the hospital morgue so she can be near Theodore. ”
“This is technically an unattended death, Chief.” Archer stops behind my chair, not shaky like my oversized security guard. “There’ll have to be an investigation.”