Chapter 25
ARCHER
Islouch in the cracked, fake-leather chair inside the war room and consider stuffing toothpicks into my eyes, because scouring street footage on a massive hundred-and-fifty-inch screen is enough to burn my retinas and fry my brain.
Still, I push on and luxuriate in the quiet.
For the last hour, the only sound I’ve had to listen to is the standard drone of a homicide division bullpen.
Cops chatter, and shoes slap the floor. Twice, Lieutenant Fabian stepped out of his office to shout at someone.
But that someone wasn’t me, so not even the rattle of the wall as he slammed his door shut again penetrated my mind longer than it took for me to think ‘suck it’ to whoever he’s mad at.
Six-forty-five-ish in the evening, on a standard workday, downtown Copeland City is, evidently, busy as fuck, which means I scan thousands of cars as they pass through packed intersections.
I pause footage each time I think I’ve found something, and then I unpause and push on when that thing I thought I saw proves to be nothing.
I toss a small bouncy ball from my left hand to my right, anything to keep myself focused and the blood sluggishly moving through my veins, and when my left ass cheek tingles with the beginnings of numbness, I shift and place my weight on the right side.
The door behind me opens and closes for the first time in an hour, the air changes, and Detective Banks wanders across the room in silence. Not even his boots make all that much sound against the floor as he strides toward the end of the table and sets a stack of papers down with a thud.
And still, I remain silent. I keep my eyes forward. I give him nothing, because what I actually wanna give him is a fist to the face, and if I do that while Fabian’s cruising on a bad mood, I’m not sure I’ll like the consequences.
“Caleb Driver stopped by to have a chat.” He sets his hands on the crappy melamine tabletop. “Wanted to know if we had any updates. Didn’t have anything new to add to our investigation.”
“Okay.” I toss the ball to my left hand. Catch it so I feel the bite of my rage-driven throw. Then I toss it back the other way. “Add it to the files for documentation.”
And shut the fuck up.
His stare warms the side of my face. His quiet probing. But the memory of Minka’s caress does, too. Her words, spoken in the shadows. Her love… so fucking healing, I’m not sure I’d have made it through the last two years if not for her presence in my life.
I’m not sure if Drake expects me to elaborate on my response, but when I don’t, he ends our silent standoff with a click of his tongue. “Fine.”
Yeah. Fine. Shut the fuck up.
My phone buzzes with an incoming text that draws my focus away from the footage on the wall, but since I’m waiting for a dozen of those, I hit pause and pick it up. Instead of finding Fletch’s name, or Clay’s, or even Minka’s, I find Felix’s.
Felix
My daughter is a fucking genius!
[image attached]
She rolled over, Arch! ZoZo is rolling over.
I swear, ZoZo’s doing new shit every fuckin’ day. So, I dunno. Just wanted to tell you.
You busy? I know you’re reading my messages, cos it says read, but are you available to chat?
I draw a long breath, expanding my chest and stretching my lungs, then as I release it again, I glance across and catch Drake watching me.
Though he’s quick to swing his gaze back to the wall.
Me
Yeah, hang on a sec.
I lock my phone and fist my bouncy ball.
Drake doesn’t get to use it. “I’ll be back soon.
” I tip my chin toward the screen, then down to the notes I’ve written on a yellow pad of paper.
“You can keep watching if you want. I found her arriving near the cinema, then her car leaving again about twenty minutes later. Those cameras are straight above, so we don’t see who’s driving.
I’ve been following her, but there are gaps in the footage and lots of it is pixelated. ”
“Okay.” He sets his hands on his hips, his eyes dropping to the phone fisted in my hand. “I’ll see what I find.”
“Yep.” I turn and whip the door open.
“Malone?”
Fucccccck off. I was so damn close to freedom. Instead, I crush the doorknob in my palm and glare over my shoulder. “What?”
He swallows, his eyes dropping to my phone a second time. But now, Felix’s name flashes on the screen, his impatience as obvious as an over-inflated balloon this close to exploding in my face.
Silence hangs between us. Pressure builds. Tension thickens, and my pulse moves just a little quicker.
When I’m at risk of the call ringing out, I answer and bring the phone quickly to my ear. “I’ll call you back in a minute.”
“Bitch! No you won—”
I hang up and bring my eyes back to Drake. “Something to say about the case?”
“No, I…” His brows furrow heavily above his eyes. “It’s just…”
“You’re taking way too fuckin’ long.”
I already see Minka’s disapproving scowl in the back of my mind.
Nevertheless, I stride through the door and slam it behind me, then I stalk across the bullpen and make a beeline for the escalators.
It’s bad manners to take a phone call from the mob while inside a police station.
Jogging onto the steel stairs and making my way down, I definitely don’t think about the part where my wife is now part of the mob, too. And, well, so am I.
I get so damn pissy when Drake harps on about me being the son of a mafioso and just as dirty, but the fact is, I kinda am.
In some ways. Because at the end of the day, I’m a hell of a lot more active in my family’s business now than I was two years ago, and I married one of the women Estefan Cordoza has effectively declared his successor.
Fuck me. Are my feelings hurt because Banks is being unkind? Or because he’s right?
My phone buzzes with another incoming call, so I roll my eyes and answer on the move.
I step off the escalator and head through the glass doors leading onto the sidewalk, then I bring the phone to my ear and find a shady spot to stand so the sun doesn’t burn me to a crisp.
“I’m literally at work, fuckface. Ya know, surrounded by cops.
Cool your shit and give me a minute to find somewhere to talk. ”
He chuckles. So fucking easy. So carefree. “You make these things more complicated than they need to be, Arch. I’m just your big brother calling to gush about his adorable baby girl.”
“You’re… you.” I scan my surroundings and check that no one is close enough to give evidence at my eventual trial. “Your career and mine aren’t entirely copacetic, Lix.”
“Big words,” he teases. “Did you get that picture I sent? Isn’t she adorable?”
“She is.” And it’s true. So ridiculously true. “She’s amazing, Lix. You went and made the most beautiful baby girl this family has ever known.”
“She’s looking like Christabelle more and more every day,” he happily sighs. “Her eyes were kinda dark when she was born, but they’re getting lighter now.”
“Turning green like ours?”
“Nah. Silver, like her momma. What are you doing?”
“Like… today? At work?” I narrow my eyes. “Trying to solve a murder. You?”
He laughs. “Not committing a murder, if that’s what you mean. Tell Fletch I said hey and that I love him. He’s still a little testy about that time I kidnapped his kid, so…”
“You love him?” Scoffing, I lean back against the solid brick wall and lift my foot to rest beneath my ass. Squeezing the bouncy ball in my left hand, I keep my eyes tracking the street around me. “I didn’t realize that was the kind of relationship you two shared. But go off, Lix.”
“He doesn’t say it back,” he laughs. “But I text it to him sometimes. And I send him pictures of Zo. I’m bonding with him father to father, since cop to criminal isn’t working out so well.”
“Does he reply?”
“To those texts? No. But he’ll give in someday,” he snickers. “He can’t stay mad forever. Is he there right now? Put him on.”
“No, he’s not here right now.” I tip my head back and enjoy the gentle scratch of brick against my skull. “He’s working with another cop this week.” And it burns me the fuck up. “I’ll tell him when I see him later.”
“Working with another cop? The fuck?” He exhales a deep grunt, but then Zora’s babbling nonsensical chatter makes me think he’s picked her up.
“All the cop shows I’ve seen have the partners working together until one of ‘em dies or retires. Then they’re usually replaced with a dog the remaining partner is reluctant to own.
” He pauses for a beat. “Did you get a dog this week?”
“Nope. Worse. I got me Special Agent Fuckface.”
“Special Agent…” He pauses. “Who? I thought Roscoe was here in New York?”
“Not Hale. Banks. Though I’d rather a dog.”
“Drake Banks?” He exhales a playful chuckle. “That motherfucker. How’s he doing? He still with that cutie with the bum leg?”
“Rory?” I drop my chin and nod. “Mmhm. They’re still together. She seems really nice.”
“Brave, too. And ballsy. Not the type I expected he’d go for, but…” He shrugs, his shirt rustling with the movement. “What the fuck do I know? I like her for him.”
My eyes narrow to slits. “You like that he’s dating someone we consider nice and brave and decent?”
“Sure.” He makes a noisy, juicy, mwah’ing kissy sound that elicits a sweet baby giggle from his daughter.
“Not sure I expected any of us to lose our heads for the outspoken, stubborn style of woman available these days. But I like the one I got, and I think Tiia’s adorable as hell and just fussy enough to send Micah halfway to insanity.
You know I like Minka, and Aubree’s the cute kind of weird.
” Another mwah. Another giggle. “Cato will find his eventually. Fletch already has one on the hook, he’s just gotta stop annoying her long enough to get her to agree to a date.
” Another mwah. Another giggle. “Drake deserves stubborn and annoying and weird, too.”
“How do you do that?” Frustrated, I lower my foot so it hits the concrete with a thud. “It’s like you don’t care at all.”