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“He’s the one in charge of Gavin Ressler’s case.” Before coming to San Francisco, Clary had a problem with one of the social services cases she worked on. Gavin Ressler had threatened her, then broken into and trashed her apartment.
“Why is he here?” Seth asked.
She was wondering that too.
“Ressler’s dead.”
Clary nodded. Yes, Ressler was dead. The police had found a burned body wearing what Gavin Ressler was last seen in.
That threat was over.
“Maybe the detective had already made arrangements to come here when Ressler escaped,” Seth said.
“Then he would’ve canceled his reservations. He isn’t a billionaire like you.” She licked her lips.
“Maybe he just wants to see you.”
Clary laughed.
“Don’t jump to the worst conclusions.” Seth put his hand on her back. “Why don’t you change out of this first? I’ll go see what he wants.”
“Don’t jump to the worst conclusions,” Clary repeated—fully for herself.
“It’s probably nothing.”
She almost rolled her eyes. Of course it was something, but she decided to shut her mouth instead. Because maybe—hopefully—just maybe, it really was nothing.
* * *
“I don’t think it’s just a welfare check.”
Seth looked over his shoulder at his eldest brother Zane, who was coming out of his apartment across the hall. Loud gaming music and the sound of tires screeching blasted out from his place. Probably their youngest brother playing Grand Theft Auto. “It isn’t.”
Zane had only gotten home last night, but it seemed he’d been updated on what had happened. He usually was.
“It’s the New York detective who called Clary while we were at the diner.” Seth told Zane about Gavin Ressler as they strode down the corridor toward the elevator. “How did you know he’s a cop?”
The detective wasn’t in uniform or even in a suit. He wore a beige sweater and dark blue jeans, and there was no sign of a badge anywhere.
“He stands like one.”
Seth frowned at his brother before entering the elevator. “Okay.”
“So what’s he doing here since Ressler’s dead?”
Seth shrugged.
“And Clary gave him this address?”
“I didn’t ask. Does it matter?”
Zane shrugged as well, but Seth didn’t need to be an FBI agent to know his brother was concerned about something. “Everything going well with Clary?”
Seth nodded.
“Took her shopping?”
“Are you spying on me?”
