The Do-Over (The Rooftop Crew #5) - Piper Rayne Page 0,7
He owes me for getting me evicted.
But I don’t see the three of them anywhere nearby. I pull my phone out of my purse and dial Leilani’s number, but it goes to voicemail after only one ring. Maybe it’s dead. I leave a message for her to call me as soon as she gets it.
Realizing I can’t stand here forever, I dial up my only other friend, who happens to be my boss from the country club. A train ride later, I’m back in Cliffton Heights and my boss, Chris, is waiting for me with his four boys running on the sidewalk, trying to beat the train.
“It’ll only be one night,” I grumble.
He nods. “Didn’t think I’d see you until the spring when the renovations are complete.” He smiles. “And don’t worry about it. You can stay as long as you need to.”
“Thanks.”
One of the boys jumps on my back and another attaches to my leg. Another one can’t stop telling me about the booger he just pulled out of his nose before I arrived.
When will I ever learn my lesson when it comes to Leilani?
Chapter Four
Knox
I walk out of the locker room and into the station at the start of my shift, cracking my neck back and forth, shutting and opening my eyes. This overnight shift is kicking my ass lately and just another reminder why I want that detective position.
Patrice is already at her desk. We’ll have to go into the call room in five minutes, but I sit down anyway. Leilani’s mugshot is taped to my computer with a big heart drawn in red Sharpie around her face. I tear off the photo and throw it in the trash. Surprisingly, Patrice says nothing.
“Fucking hell,” I say.
“You know that’s not the last of it?” Patrice says.
“I know.” I run my hands down my face.
Having Leilani show up here two days ago has spurred a clusterfuck in my brain, but it’s also solidified that I’m done with her for good. A reckless person who would go after someone with a paint gun just because the woman wore a fur coat is not the woman for me, among other reasons.
Although I’d prefer to be getting a good night’s sleep, at least I’m processing how different we are.
Patrice stands, tucks in her chair, and the two of us head to the call room before we’ll head out to the squad cars. The captain talks about the two male suspects who have yet to be picked up from the Bruce Floyd attack. Apparently, Floyd wants their heads on a platter. A man like Bruce Floyd is used to getting what he wants when he wants it, and I’m sure the captain is getting a shit-ton of pressure to get it done. I’m not sure I ever want to get that high up the ranks.
We all file out of the room, DuPont slapping me on the back. “Try not to arrest any of your other girlfriends.”
He and Milliken think they’re funny as they walk away laughing and glancing back for my reaction.
“I heard the thirteenth precinct has an opening for a spring wedding,” another guy says.
“Black and white stripes are in,” another coworker adds.
“Glad to see I’m the butt of all jokes.” I’m not surprised though. It’s going to be me until someone else does something stupid.
“Whelan!” Captain Donnelly calls.
Patrice’s eyes widen. She hasn’t made one smart joke herself, which is odd.
“Hey, Cap,” I say.
“I want to talk to you before you leave after your shift, so check in with me.” He never looks up from his papers at the podium.
I hope it has something to do with the detective position and not my ex being arrested. “Yes, sir.”
He grabs his papers and heads to his office, nodding at me like that’s all.
When I reach the car, I realize it’s Patrice’s turn to drive. I place my hands together in prayer and she looks at me with no amusement before she heads to the driver’s side. We both slide in and head out.
“Cap wants to talk to me,” I say.
“You do know that I’m gonna be pissed off at you when you make detective. Who knows who my new partner might be?”
She turns toward the bridges where homeless people often hang out. Most of the homeless are decent people, but there are thieves too. They tend to live by their own rules since no one wants to involve the police in their matters for fear they’ll be taken in.