Crash Into Me - L.A. Fiore Page 0,24
his mouth, then closed it. “I guess, but you know enough about him and you’re a detective. You think that’s smart?”
What he meant was I maintained law and order and Kade Wakefield blurred it when it suited him, but this wasn’t a date, this was a ball, a once-in-a-lifetime moment. Still, I was a cop, and he was most definitely a bad boy, elegant, rich and sophisticated, but a bad boy nonetheless.
“No,” I replied honestly.
“Are you going?”
“No,” I said, and then added, “I don’t think so.” This particular bad boy I liked more than I should.
He chuckled and got back to work. I tried to work, but I was distracted, my focus shifting to the invitation throughout the day. Even that night, I studied it on my kitchen counter like it was a living thing. I had nothing to wear. I really shouldn’t go, but the thought of getting dressed up, seeing him dressed up made me really want to go. I couldn’t go, shouldn’t go. Reaching for my phone, I texted the number to reply with a no, my finger hovering over the button, and, at the last second, I responded yes. Dropping my phone, I stepped away from the counter, took a deep breath. It settled in slowly that I was attending the event of the year. I needed a dress. I’d go shopping over the weekend. As hard as I tried to not make it a big deal, I caught myself grinning for the rest of the night.
Seven
He stood in the shadows, eyes trained on the cop’s apartment. Surveillance for now, but if she and her partner got too close, he’d have to throw them off the scent. If necessary, take them out. He waited until the lights on the third floor went out, before he pulled his hoodie closer and disappeared into the shadows.
Eight
Molly
I got home after a day that was just too long, kicked off my shoes, put my badge and gun in the drawer and poured myself a glass of wine. After a long sip, my eyes met Salem’s. “Jason Benjamin has got to be dead. Nothing, there is nothing on him.” I took another long drink. “So if he’s dead but people are still willing to kill to keep Katrina’s true cause of a death a mystery, why?”
It really was the case from hell, but I couldn’t deny I liked it. All those strings to pull to see what happened.
I almost didn’t answer the door when I heard the knock, and had I dropped onto the sofa, I wouldn’t have. Looking out the peephole, it was Ethan. Pulling the door open, he grinned at me, but I was looking at the silver box with a black bow that he carried.
“Surprise!”
I stepped back to let him in. He chuckled when he placed it on the counter. “It’s not from me. Courier didn’t want to leave it at the door.” He pushed his hands into his pockets. “You okay?”
I pulled my eyes from the box to Ethan. “Yeah, just tired.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“It’s just this case.”
He lifted a brow.
“Do you think it’s possible for someone to stay off the grid effectively for over thirty years?”
“Back in the seventies and eighties, I’d say yeah, but today. No. Not with all the technology. Everything we do leaves a footprint.”
That was my thought, too.
“You picked up the apartment fire case?” he asked. Not surprising he knew of it, since it was on all the news channels.
“Yeah.”
“Lucky it was only two deaths,” he said.
He was the right. The fire could have taken the whole building. Sadly, for the two, it didn’t matter.
Ethan did a chin lift toward the present. “You’ve got a secret admirer.”
“It would seem.”
“And one with some change.”
“How do you know that?”
“I worked at Bergdorfs for a time. I recognize the box.”
Who the hell would be sending me a gift from Bergdorfs?
“You going to open it?” Ethan asked, and then wiggled his brows.
“I need a shower first.”
“Okay, fine,” he teased.
“Thanks for accepting it.”
“No problem, Neighbor.” He started for the door, then looked back when he reached it. “That drink invite is still on the table.”
He was adorable. “Maybe one drink.”
His eyes lit up. “Well, damn, alright.”
Chuckling, I walked to the door; he had his door open. “I’m holding you to that drink.”
“I look forward to it,” I said sincerely.
“Evening made. Night, Detective.”
“Night, Ethan.”
I locked up, then showered, before I returned to the box. There wasn’t even a card. What I was thinking couldn’t be, and yet,