AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I rolled my eyes. “Middle shelf of the fridge. Help yourself.”
“You coming to the club for dinner tonight?”
“No. I didn’t even know there was a dinner.”
“Now you do.”
“I have a date.”
Kale sighed. “He’s a cop, sis.”
“That, I did know. And he’s a detective, not just a cop. Stop stereotyping.”
“They’re all the same,” he retorted, confirming my point about his attitude. “And I’m not stereotyping. It’s a fact.”
“No. It’s not. You’ll see.”
“So where is this date?”
“Don’t know, and I definitely wouldn’t tell you if I did. I don’t need you—or Biter or whoever you send—shadowing me all night long.”
He didn’t even look abashed by my accusation as he chuckled and headed into the kitchen. Curling my legs under me, I stayed where I was, still looking at the house across the street. Dayton wasn’t there. Though it was Sunday, he had to work today. Brennan had said something about sleeping over at a friend’s last night after the movies—a teammate apparently, since Brennan planned to go straight to practice from there.
My eyes narrowed as a car that was neither Dayton nor Brennan’s slowed in front of their house then turned into the drive. Sinking low in my chair, I watched it park, saw the person with unruly blond hair as they got out and looked around then went to the door.
Lifting up one hip, I pulled my cell phone from my back pocket then rushed to the window, snapping a couple pictures while, much to my horror, the person let themselves into Dayton’s house.
I stared at the empty porch, deciding what to do. I couldn’t call the police, because the person I saw… They were most definitely a cop.
Just not the one who lived there.
Twelve
Dayton
My ears pricked for any sound, I looked around then slipped into a conference room with the file I had tucked under my arm. It was pathetically thin, but my ‘source’ in Records had assured me this was everything. I knew it was true. I’d covertly followed the case for five years, though I wasn’t supposed to come near it. Nothing had been added since a year after Melonie’s death.
Not that I’d done anything to taint the case. I never touched any of the evidence, which was pitifully little at best, or any of the original reports. Just copies, like those a journalist would get using the freedom of information argument. Just call me Clark Kent without the alter ego.
Settling at the table, I opened the folder.
“Whatcha doin’?” Anderson asked, ignoring the closed door and poking her blonde head into the room, her long braid swinging in over her shoulder.
“I’m on my lunch break.”
“Uh-huh. Whatcha doin’?” she repeated.
“Amber,” I warned through my teeth, saying the first name that rarely passed my lips.
With a raised brow, she came into the room and closed the door, leaning against it with her arms crossed. “Should I guess?”
“No. You should go down to the ME’s office and hang out with Felix.”
“You know I don’t like corpses. Which is exactly why you shouldn’t be doing…” She wagged a finger at the file open before me. “Whatever that is that I don’t want to know about, even though I can guess. Because if Cap finds out, we’re gonna have another body on our hands.”
“You wanna help?”
“Yeah.” She exploded off the door and scraped out the chair across from me, plopping into it before she’d finished speaking the single syllable.
