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I see his reflection in my window, his lips curling up at the side and the way they quiver as he fights a full-blown smile. “Yes, Doctor Mayet. I won’t say a word.”
Liar.
ARCHER
Islide out of the car and slip the phone into my pocket, then I glance up at my newest crime scene. My own fucking apartment building and the little old man, Steve, our landlord, who makes his statement to a couple of uniforms.
“Everything alright?” Fletch wanders across, his face illuminated by the swirling red and blue lights and his jaw tight: a threat against those he loves is a threat against him. “Mayet okay?”
“She’s fine. Just wanted to talk work for a minute.” I look toward our building, the brick wall unscathed, but glass scattered on the sidewalk outside.
That glass used to be our living room window.
“Anyone see our guy yet?”
“Nope. He was either aware of the CCTV placement along this street, or he was especially lucky. You knew he’d hit your place after last night’s stunt?”
“I knew the risk existed, just as that same risk existed at your place. I hedged my bets and swept everyone up, just in case.” I fold my arms and try to puzzle our perp out. Why, specifically, did he target my home? “It’s the same guy, Fletch, but his M.O. was way off. He wasn’t aiming for me. It’s more like he was warning us to back the fuck up.”
“Kinda implies you touched a little close to home on that statement last night.” He draws a long breath and casts his eyes out at the crowd ofuniforms and crime scene techs who surround the street. “We’re sure it’s a cop?”
“Yeah.” I drop my hands into my pockets and glance down at my boots. “It’s a cop. But he doesn’t kill for the sake of killing. He wanted Mercer, Wright, and Haightman down. Which means we need to put Taylor up for safekeeping. He’s the last one standing.”
“We’ll tuck him away at the station until we tie this up. Our killer is someone we work with. Directly.”
“Yup.” I look up and scowl when the media vans roll closer, their cameras flashing from the other side of the bollards. They’ll plaster me and this building on the news less than three minutes from now.
If Felix is watching, he’ll recognize our street.
And if Minka sees…
“There are no dead bodies here,” finally, I bring my eyes over to Fletch, “I think it’s time we head back to the station and bring our squad up to date. There are gonna be hurt feelings and big talk after my statement last night.”
He turns on his heels with a scoff and moves toward the cruiser. We could walk, really. It’s a matter of blocks, but with a shooter on the loose and a certain grudge to settle, I think it’s best we choose expediency. “Call them in.” I snag the keys from my pocket, and my phone with them. “Please. Let’s see if our plan paid off.” Walking around to the driver’s side door, I scroll to my text chat and send a rock to Minka. To let her know I’m okay, even if she happens to see something on TV she won’t like. Then I send her a penguin and a diamond ring, too. Because I guess I’m feeling a little fucking needy right now. Finally, I lock my screen and slide into the driver’s seat. “We’ve gotta face the fire, so the sooner we do…”
“The sooner we get shot,” he grumbles. But at least he smiles and gets to work on his phone. “Oy. I should’ve gone into banking or some shit. Mia deserves a dad who works nine to five. And Sera likes those dudes in suits, I can tell.”
We leave the car in the underground parking lot, locking it up and striding side by side toward the doors that lead into the belly of the precinct. And though I dig my hands into my pocketsand drop my gaze, I keep my eyes moving. Sweeping left to right, simply to make sure no motherfucker gets the drop on us.
“What the fuck, Malone?”
Like we knew would happen, the moment we step inside the building, cops explode. They heckle and snarl. They’re angry, and shit, I can hardly blame them.
“You’re pointing fingers at one of our own now?”
“You’re blaming a cop for killing cops?” a third booms. “How fucked up in the head you gotta be to figure that out?”
“Move along,” Fletch rumbles, his shoulder brushing against mine as we walk. It’s not an accidental touch, but a warning.I’m close, and I’m gonna tackle you before you fight another cop inside the police precinct.
“Only the bastard son of a mafia don would have the balls to finger another cop for this.”
“Shit.” Fletch’s hands flail as he spins and attempts to grab me, but I swing around with lightning-fast reflexes, stopping only when my nose practically fucking touches that of the former narc squad, Detective Stohl.
We’vealwayshad beef; he was put on this earth to annoy me.
“You got something to say to me, Stool?” I shove him back when his rancid coffee breath smacks me in the face. Already, dozens of cops surround us. Some to stop an altercation. Most, simply, to watch it. “We haven’t talked in a while, Derrick. Yet you think you have something to say about my family?”
“If the shoe fits.” He looks up at me, an inch and a half shorter and at least half as many brain cells working for him. “It just strikes me as odd thatyou’ve been trusted to run a case surrounding dead cops when we know your father’s sordid history. And then itdoesn’tsurprise me you’re looking at other cops for it. Of all the killers in this city, you decide to point fingers in-house?”
