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There are a lot of men and women inside, so many that the entire room is packed, but absolutely none of them are dressed up.
Not one.
“Well, this is awkward,” I mutter to myself, watching Mac and Libby head toward the back of the bar. Catching up with them, I press my lips together as they set their coats in an empty booth. “I think I’m just gonna leave my coat on,” I say when Mac turns toward me and holds out her hand, wiggling her fingers.
“You’re not leaving the coat on.”
“Did either of you happen to look around? No one is dressed up—not one person,” I cry, batting Libby’s hands away when she tries to untie the belt of my coat.
“It’s still early,” Libby informs me.
I look at her, then back to Mac, and ask, “Are you sure this costume party was scheduled for tonight?”
“Tonight’s Halloween. When else would it be?” She looks around. Following her gaze around the room, I stop on a poster behind the bar announcing the pimps and hoes party has been rescheduled for tomorrow night.
“We’re a day early,” I point out, and she looks around again and bites her bottom lip.
“So we’ll make the best of it and have a good time tonight,” Libby says, and I hope she knows that if it were possible she would be dead by now, lit on fire with the lasers I’m trying to shoot from my eyes. Unfortunately, she doesn’t read the threat.
“Do you know how ridiculous we look right now?” I ask, looking between the two. Mac, at least, has the decency to look apprehensive, but apparently Libby has set her mind on doing this, because she just raises a brow and wiggles her fingers in a silent command for me to give up my coat. “Well, then, you both are in for it, because I’m now going to drink away my embarrassment, which means you will both be responsible for making sure I get home safely or you can face Mom and Dad and explain to them why their favorite daughter was found dead dressed like a prostitute.”
Mac’s eyes narrow, and she yell-whispers, “I’m Mom and Dad’s favorite.”
Snorting, I shake my head no, then give in and slip off the coat.
“You both know I’m their favorite. I’m the baby,” Libby chimes in, tossing my coat onto hers and Mac’s in the booth.
“You wish,” I mutter, and she glares at me.
“Come on, let’s just go get a drink, and next time we see Mom and Dad, they can tell us who their real favorite is,” Mac says, stepping between us.
“Fine,” I agree as Libby curls her lip up and repeats.
“Fine.”
“I see this is going to be a tequila kind of night.” Mac sighs, dragging us toward the bar.
“I can’t bewieve someone stole our jackets,” Libby slurs four hours later, stumbling into me and causing me to stumble into Mac as the three of us huddle together in an attempt to keep warm as we rush down the street toward the train station.
“At least we have a MetroCard.” Mac giggles, stumbling into my other side and making me bounce against Libby.
“You guys are good sisters,” I tell them, happily ducking my face down into the huddle to ward off the cold I feel biting my cheeks.
“The best,” Mac agrees, and I frown, wondering who put a disco ball outside as red-and-blue lights flash around us. Then my body freezes when I hear the all too familiar bweep, bweep.
“Oh no,” Libby whispers, voicing my fear as we turn to look over our shoulders and watch two officers get out of a squad car that has pulled up behind us.
“Ladies, if you could walk back toward us, that would be appreciated,” one of the officers says, placing his hand on the butt of his gun as he stops beside the hood of the squad car.
“Just play it cool,” Libby says, straightening her spine and shoving her shoulders back before sauntering toward the cops, which I realize a little too late is a bad, bad idea. “What can we do for you, Officers? Is there a problem?” she purrs, but the words are slurred and she stumbles in her heels, taking her from sex kitten to klutzy drunk in two seconds flat.
“Is this your normal track?” the cop on the driver’s side asks, and Libby stops and tilts her head to the side, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
“Pardon?”
“Is this your normal track?” the cop on the passenger side repeats, and Libby looks at Mac and me, frowning.
“Do either of you know what they are asking?”
“They think we’re prostitutes,” I chime in blandly, not surprised. That old saying if it walks like a duck and talks like a duck comes to mind, and seeing how we look like prostitutes, are dressed like prostitutes, and have no coats in the dead of night when it’s freezing out, I’m sure the cops are putting two and two together and coming up with ten.
“We’re not prostitutes. We just dressed up like them,” Mac says, and both the officers look at her.
“Do you ladies have IDs?”
“Someone stole our coats, and our IDs were in the pockets,” I explain. The cops look at the three of us, and I know they don’t believe us at all—not that I can blame them, because I wouldn’t believe us, either.
“A prostitute was murdered two blocks over. Do you know anything about that?”
“No.” I shake my head, wrapping my arms around myself, feeling a chill that has nothing to do with the cold creeping over me.
“Can we go? It’s kind of cold,” Libby whispers, and the officers look at her, then me and Mac.
“We’re gonna have to ask you ladies to come down to the station to answer a few questions.”
“We’re really not prostitutes,” I tell them, and they nod, like, yeah, sure you’re not as they open the back door to the squad car.
“At least we’re not out in the cold anymore,” Mac says once we are all tucked into the backseat, and I turn my head and look at her in disbelief. “What, just saying.” She shrugs. Closing my eyes, I lean my head against the window, thinking this can’t get any worse.
I really should know better.
Chapter 3
FLUSTERED
FAWN
“It will be fun, they told me. Live a little, they said,” I huff, staring at my sisters through our reflection in the mirror in front of us—and ignoring how horrifying I look right now. My makeup has melted off, and my hair is now a hundred times bigger than when we left the house. I look like something the cat spit up before dragging home.
“It was fun.” Mac yawns, and I turn my head to glare at her. She shrugs. “What? Even you have to admit you had fun tonight.”
“No part of being arrested is fun.”
“We technically weren’t arrested,” Libby puts in, and I transfer my glare to her. She rolls her eyes. “Well, we weren’t—they didn’t even read us our Miranda rights.”
“We’re sitting in an interrogation room at a police station,” I point out.
She looks around, muttering, “This is true.” She bites her bottom lip like she just realized where we are.
“God save me.” I drop my head to the top of the table with a thud, then lift it quickly and sit up straight in my chair when the knob starts to turn. As soon as the door opens, my eyes widen and the color drains from my face. “This cannot be happening,” I breathe, watching Levi step into the room. His head is down; he’s looking at a stack of papers in his hand, so I can’t see his beautiful face, but I have no doubt it’s him. I’d know his broad shoulders and thick head of hair anywhere. Scooting as low as I can in my seat without crawling under the table, I lower my face toward my chest and try to hide, praying he doesn’t recognize me.
“Aren’t we supposed to get a phone call?” Mac asks, and I scoot even lower, swearing I feel his eyes burning into the side of my head as I study the top of the table like it’s the most fascinating thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.
“Fawn?” Pretending I have no idea who Fawn is, I tuck my chin closer to my chest.
“How do you know my sister?” Libby asks, blowing my cover and leaving me with no choice but to lift my head and look at him.
“Oh, hi, Levi.” I wave like the idiot I am, and his brows pull together tightly over his beautiful golden eyes in confusion. “These are my sisters, Libby and Mac,” I introduce them, and his gaze narrows.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“It’s a long story.” I smile, then watch him turn back toward the door and stick his head out.
“Jinks, come in here,” he shouts, then turns back to face me, crossing his arms over his chest.
“What’s up?” one of the officers who brought us in asks, poking his head in through the crack in the door before coming into the room completely.
“I thought you and Van said you brought in three prostitutes.”
“We did. We picked them up two blocks over from the murder.”
“These women are not prostitutes.”
“They looked like prostitutes and were in a known area for prostitution,” Jinks says.
Glaring at him, I grit out, “I told you we were walking to the train to go home.”
“You also had no IDs.” He shrugs his broad shoulders, and my hands ball in my lap.
“This is my neighbor,” Levi states with a shake of his head at Jinks before looking at me once more. “What were you doing over there? And why the hell are you dressed like that?” he questions, raking his eyes over me, causing my skin to tingle and heat the same way it did last time I was around him.
“We were at a bar—”
“You were at a bar dressed like that?” he cuts me off, and there is no mistaking that he’s angry, judging by the tick of his jaw and the growl in his tone. I just don’t get why. It’s Halloween. Most women I know use Halloween as an excuse to dress like they are streetwalkers. Okay, some go as zombies, but even then, they are typically slutty zombies.
“It was a pimps and hoes party,” Libby says unhelpfully, and I shove my elbow in her side, only to have her do the same back to me, making me wince and cover the abused spot with my hand.
“Pimps and hoes,” he repeats, looking directly at me, and I shift in my seat.
“Yes, a pimps and hoes party at Jack’s. You know, the bar near the stadium,” Mac tosses in, and I close my eyes briefly, wishing my sisters would just be quiet.
“So why were you three walking in the cold without coats?” Jinks asks.
“Like we told you on the ride to the station, our coats were stolen from the bar, but I still had my MetroCard in my bra, so we were walking to the train, which now I realize was a giant damn mistake,” Libby grumbles, glaring at Officer Jinks.
“Ya think?” Jinks asks with a grin, and we all glare at him—including Levi. “Just sayin’.” He holds out a hand in front of himself. “You could have called a cab and paid the fare when you got to your place.”
God, we are seriously so damn stupid, because not one of us thought of that.
“I’ll take you home,” Levi mutters, and my stomach drops to my toes as panic fills my chest.
“That’s not necessary. You’re working—we can take a cab, you know, and pay him when we reach my apartment,” I say hopefully, wringing my hands together in my lap, but he shakes his head, not uncrossing his arms.
“I’m heading home anyways, so I’ll take you.”
“Perfect.” Mac stands along with Libby, leaving me no choice but to do the same, since it would look really strange if I refused to go with them. Silently cursing myself for being such a pushover with my sisters, I stand and attempt to pull my dress down enough to cover my ass. After a few seconds of tugging and pulling, I give up the fight and start toward the door, watching Levi’s jaw clench the closer I get to him.
“Here.” He slips off his suit jacket and swings it around my shoulders before I have a chance to refuse. I feel the weight and warmth settle around my body and the scent of soap and musk seep into my lungs. My gaze locks with his, and my head gets dizzy while my legs feel weak, and it takes everything in me to keep standing.
“Thanks,” I murmur, getting lost in his eyes.
“What about us? Do we get jackets?” Libby asks, breaking into the moment, and Levi’s hand that had been resting lightly on my shoulder drops away, making me want to growl from the loss. Jealousy fills my chest as his eyes go to her, and I wait for the inevitable to happen. I know men think Libby is beautiful—because she is—and I know she can get pretty much any man she wants, so I expect to see some kind of flare of desire when he looks at her. But there is nothing, not even a hint of something. Which is surprising, since every guy I’ve ever been even a little interested in has looked at her with interest, even if they try to hide it.
“Sorry, only got one,” he says with a shrug, holding the door open for us. When we step into the hall, my stomach knots as we wait for him to move ahead of us. I don’t know what just happened, but my heart is pounding so hard I can feel its relentless thump, thump, thump in my throat.
“I can’t believe you never mentioned living next to a hottie who knows how to use a set of cuffs,” Libby whispers loudly, leaning into me as we follow Levi and Officer Jinks down a long hall while they talk quietly.
“Shut up, Libby,” I hiss, trying to keep up with Levi’s mile-long legs in my heels that are now killing me.
“Just saying, I totally understand now why you didn’t want me to hook you up with anyone.”
“Libby,” I warn, watching Levi’s shoulders tense as my sister continues talking.
“What? I’m just saying, if I had a guy like him living next door to me, I wouldn’t look elsewhere, either.”
“Please.” I look at her and jerk my chin toward Levi’s back, hoping she will realize he can totally hear every single word she’s saying.
“Oh yeah, sorry,” she mumbles, having the audacity to look contrite. “You probably don’t want him to know that you want him.” My teeth snap together, and I glare at her, letting her know silently that if we weren’t in the middle of a police station I would take her to the ground and force her to be quiet like I’ve been doing my whole life.
“Libby, stop being a pain.” Mac laughs, tucking Libby into her side, forcing her to walk next to her a few feet ahead of me. Thankful for the reprieve, I drop my eyes to the ground and wrap my arms around my middle as I walk behind them.
“Fawn,” Levi calls, and I stop walking and lift my eyes to his staring back at me.
“Levi?” I prompt when he does nothing more than scan my face.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Uh, sure.” I nod, gaining his chin lift in reply before he and Jinks disappear behind a closed door at the entrance of the station.
Feeling Mac and Libby get close, I pull my eyes from the door to look at them. “Someone’s been holding out on us,” Mac says, and I shrug.
“He’s my new neighbor. I don’t really know him.” Her eyes search mine, and a slow smile spreads across her face like she knows something I don’t. “I’ve only talked to him once before today,” I continue, and her smile broadens.
“Sure,” she says, like she doesn’t believe me, and I bite my tongue, refusing to let her bait me into an argument, which is something she does often.
“Ready?” Levi asks a few minutes later, and I let out the breath I’ve been holding.
“Yep.” I start for the door behind my sisters, who have already stepped outside ahead of us.
“Hold up.” His voice slides over me as his long, warm fingers wrap around my wrist and tighten when I try to tug free.
“What?” I look up at him, hating how breathless I sound.
“Paper.”
“What?” I repeat, getting lost in his gaze and touch as the fingers on his other hand slide up my temple and through my hair.
“You have paper in your hair,” he says, gently flicking his fingers out, causing a small scrap of white paper to float to the floor.
“Oh.” I drop my eyes from his and shake my head, trying to get rid of the dizziness and the feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“Come on, let’s get you home.” He
drops my wrist and moves his hand to my lower back, where it burns a hole straight through his jacket and my dress into my skin, until he finally drops it away so he can help me into the front seat of his SUV. He makes sure I’m settled before he slams the door.
“So are you going to tell us who this guy is to you?” Libby asks from the backseat as I put on my seat belt.
“Leave her alone, Lib,” Mac says quietly, and I watch in fascination as Levi moves around the hood to the driver’s side. I’ve never really noticed the way a man walks before, but his walk is confident and sure.
“I’m just curious,” Libby grumbles right as Levi opens his door.
“Are you all going to the same place?” Levi questions, sliding in behind the steering wheel, putting the key in the ignition, and starting up the engine.
“Yes, and thank you for giving us a ride. We really appreciate it,” Mac says from the backseat as we pull out into traffic.
“It’s not a big deal. I was heading home anyway,” he replies as we stop at a red light.
“What are you doing?” I tense as he reaches across the middle console between us.
“No need to yell fire, babe,” he jokes, reminding me of our first encounter, and my cheeks heat as something in my stomach twists on the word babe. Holding my breath, I watch him adjust the heater vents on my side to blow directly on me before turning up the warm air.
“I thought you were going to kill me,” I defend myself, hearing him chuckle as the light turns green and he presses the gas.
“I thought about it.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, I also thought about a couple other things,” he says, and I wonder what those things were, but I don’t have enough guts to ask him.
“Did you have a good night at work?” I ask instead, then wish I hadn’t, because he’s obviously a homicide detective and I can’t imagine any part of that being good. “Sorry, that was a stupid question. Ignore me.”
“It’s all right.” He turns his head toward me and smiles. “Can’t say it was a good night, but there is always a little bit of satisfaction involved when I bring someone to justice.”
