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"The whole point was to enrich my life, but this isn't doing it. I know I'm not the first cop to feel like this. Or the last even, but I like the beat better. I really do."

She grew quiet for a moment, her deep maroon lips pressed together as she folded her arms across her middle. Her eyes lingered on her thick, knee-high laced boots for several seconds. I didn't know what to do in her unusual silence, so I climbed back up the ladder to finish the border.

After a few hisses of the spray, Frankie broke her silence. "Even though I hate you, I don't want you to get shot in your stupid face. Okay?"

"If you hate me, why do you care about my face?" I didn't look at her, but the tightness in my stomach clenched all the way up to my throat.

"Because it looks a little like mine."

"No, it doesn't."

"Yeah. It does."

"You're like four shades whiter. Ghost-like even. Like some sort of ghost that haunts my ass while I paint." I glanced over my shoulder at her. "With creepy black eyes and two stupid ponytails above your ears."

Frankie scowled through her chuckle, though I noticed her eyeliner appeared damper than usual. "Well, I can see your lesbian-plaid boxers through the holes in your pants."

"So, you legit haunt my ass."

"Better than haunting your pussy."

"Gross, Frankie!" I tossed a swift kick at her, and she laughed, grabbing my leg at the same time.

I nearly tumbled from the ladder but jumped down in the nick of time. "You're worried about bullets in my face, but you nearly broke my neck."

"You don't need your neck. It's small anyway." She shoved me hard enough to rattle the ladder beside us. "Just remember though, you once said this same thing about being a beat cop."

I ignored her statement and shoved her right back until she grabbed me in a headlock. I let her, of course, because I was the one with the training who could kick her ass. Instead, I wriggled my fingers up, grabbed the laces of her corset, and yanked the tight strings. Right away, everything popped lose.

"Jags!" She released me, huffing and puffing while looking down at herself. "It took Nikita ten minutes to tie that."

"Your ribs need air anyway." I grinned with pride at my win and propped my hands on my hips. "Victory."

"Asshat."

"Boob beanie."

Frankie sputtered, her eyes wide as she fought hysterics. "Boob beanie?!"

"Body part with head gear for body part with head gear." I shrugged, biting my tongue to hold back my amusement.

It didn't last long until we both cracked up.

"What's so funny in here!" a small voice shouted from the hall.

Reagan's heavy feet pounded the floor as she raced down to us. She swung into the room, her eyes wide with excitement. In the time she was gone, so much happened, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw her. I held my arms to her right away, and she ran to me.

"Hey, kiddo."

"Tia Jags!" She tossed her arms around my neck. "Avó is here. She wants to see you."

"Been awhile since I've seen Granny. I better go say hi, huh?" I set Reagan on my hip, and she nodded.

"Are you going to ignore me, Rea?" asked Frankie, her haunted mouth in a lame pout.

"Probably." Reagan giggled.

"Rude. No more sneaking candy to you then or watching you after school. You can go to daycare." Frankie said the last word in a dark, spooky tone.