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“Where?”

“I already told you where.”

“I mean, which holding area are they taking me to? Am I being detained by the I.S.F.? Is it the racial authority, or––”

“No.” Morley seemed to understand him that time. “No. This is the human authority, Nick. They’ll take you to the 17thPrecinct. Homicide.” Morley’s voice grew darker, with a harder warning. “But I definitely wouldn’t mention Ms. James if I were you, Nick. I wouldn’t give them any reason to look more closely into your personal life… or your living arrangements… or your sex life.”

Nick’s jaw hardened to granite.

He knew exactly what Morley was saying that time.

His relationship with Wynter was illegal.

Technically, it was reallyreallyillegal.

Nick forgot that most days now, since he felt pretty safe under the protection of Archangel and his friends at the NYPD, especially with Wynter and Tai both working for Lara St. Maarten personally. The giant defense contractor, Archangel, had fingers in every law enforcement and military branch in the world.

That was particularly true in what used to be the United States.

But whatever this was, St. Maarten hadn’t been able to make it go away.

Then again, maybe she hadn’t tried yet.

Maybe she hadn’t known about it until now.

“Nick?” Morley’s voice hardened. “They wouldn’t let me ride along. Just go with them, okay? I’ll meet you at the station.”

Nick’s fear turned into a harder anger.

“What the fuck is this, James? What happened? What the hell do they think I––”

“Did you hear me?” Morley snapped. “We don’t have time for that.”

At Nick’s silence, Morley hardened his voice.

“You’d better open that fucking door. They’ll break it down if you don’t do it in the next three minutes, Nick. You’re damned lucky I’ve been able to hold them off this long. I just now told them you’re almost there. Don’t make me a liar.”

Nick felt that cold thing in his stomach grow heavier.

Was Morley saying they were listening in on their conversation, even now?

Remembering what Morley said, warning him about Wynter, Nick felt sick to the point of sheer panic.

He opened his mouth.

He closed it.

“Midnight?” Morley growled. “You hearing me?”

“What’s the charge?” Nick asked. “Can you tell me that, at least?”

“What’s the charge?” Morley’s voice turned incredulous. “What fucking department do I work for, Midnight? I just told you I’m conducting the initial interview.”

At Nick’s silence, Morley growled his last words.

“Homicide, Nick. The charge is murder.”

Before Nick could answer, Detective James Morley, senior investigator in Homicide Division, Precinct 17 of the New York Protected Area, disconnected the line.