Page 72 of Devil's Hour
“I want to know the minute something breaks tonight. I would love to start my new position with arresting The Purists, so get out there and make it happen.”
Royce chuckled and left her office to find Sawyer. “We’re going to let him stew a few hours, cut him loose, then tail him to see what happens.”
“So much for the fuckfest you promised me,” Sawyer pouted softly. “I could settle for a quickie.”
“No way. We’ve existed on those for a week. This little prick will lead us to something.”
“While he’s on ice, I want to experience something new with you.”
“Yeah? Okay.”
Fifteen minutes later, Royce scowled at Sawyer from the passenger seat of Sawyer’s Audi. “The grocery store? This is your idea of a new experience? I’ve been buying my groceries for years now, GB.”
“You buy ramen noodles and bologna,” Sawyer countered. “That’s not food.” He laughed at Royce’s scowl. “Come on. It will be fun.”
Fun was the last word Royce would use to describe grocery shopping, but it was better when he went with Sawyer. They’d planned meals as they moved through the aisles. The differences in their personalities was never more evident than with the things they put in the grocery cart. Royce learned that Sawyer was a total snob when it came to cheese when Royce was happy with the kind in a squirty can.
“I’ll make a foodie out of you yet,” Sawyer said when they unpacked the groceries at his house.
“Where’smyboy?” Royce said, pulling the toy out of the bag. Sawyer scoffed, but Royce ignored him and removed the wand from the packaging and went into the living room where HRH Bones was watching bird porn through the picture window. “Look what I got you,” he said, holding the wand in the air and making the feather dance at the end of the string. Bones looked so indignant it made him laugh. Hearing Sawyer snickering in the kitchen, he looked at Bones with a pleading expression, and said, “You know you want to kill the feather.” Bones would’ve rolled his eyes if he could, but he took pity on Royce and swiped at the feather. Royce made it dance some more, and at first Bones just watched it through narrowed eyes, but then he leaped like a lion, snagging the string in midair and jerking the wand from Royce’s hand. Bones made a vicious growl, picked up the feather with his teeth, and dragged the offending toy out of the room and down the hallway toward the bedrooms. Royce turned to Sawyer. “That went well.”
“You had more success than I predicted.”
“I think I have a pissed-off cat who is looking to do wicked things to me with that wand as soon as I fall asleep.” Royce returned to the kitchen and pulled the Duke key out of the paper bag. “Here’s your key, asshole.”
“Aww. You picked out a fancy one.”
“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” Royce groused.
Sawyer laughed hard. “I know how much you hate my team.”
“I hate them more than words. I root for them to lose more than I cheer on any team to win.”
“Ouch,” Sawyer said, clutching the key to his chest.
“But I don’t hate you,” Royce said tenderly.
Was there a right time to tell a man you love him? Should it be over a bottle of wine and a good steak? Or was it okay to do it while he laughed and clutched a cheap piece of metal to his chest as if it were a priceless treasure? He and Sawyer were opposites in so many ways, but the most significant thing they had in common was knowing the importance of telling people how you feel about them because they could be ripped away from you in an instant.
Royce cupped Sawyer’s face, running his thumb over his smiling lips and, with his heart in his throat, said, “I fucking love you.” Sawyer gasped, and his lips trembled beneath the pad of his finger. “So damn much.”
Sawyer closed his eyes, and he inhaled deeply. For once, he wasn’t doing breathing exercises to find patience for Royce. He could tell Sawyer was happy by the serene expression on his face. When he reopened his eyes, Sawyer smiled brilliantly at him. “I love you too. God, I do.”
They kissed long and hard until both were panting for air, clinging to one another. Royce debated leaving the kid in lockup all night long, but it wasn’t the right thing to do.
“You just had to create this big moment when we can’t stay here to celebrate it properly, didn’t you, dickhead?” Sawyer asked, nibbling on Royce’s neck.
“I’ll make it up to you, asshole.”
“Fucking right you will. I’ll see to it.” Sawyer’s wicked laughter spelled big trouble for Royce, and he couldn’t wait.
Royce decided to let Avery Bradford sweat it out until nine thirty. He and Sawyer cooked dinner together, then looked through The Purists’ case file. They reviewed the employee interview notes, autopsy results, and tox screen results, which had confirmed Fawkes’s suspicions. He wasn’t about to ask what strings Rigby pulled to get her hands on the ME’s reports, but he knew she didn’t get them from Duffy and Ashton. Savage McGraw and Amber Neilson had died from smoke inhalation and carbon dioxide poisoning. They didn’t have any type of drugs, recreational or otherwise, in their systems, but McGraw’s blood alcohol level had been more than two times the legal limit. In a follow-up interview with his widow, she stated he was an unabashed alcoholic and used a hired car service to get to and from work. That explained why McGraw’s car wasn’t in the parking lot at the time of the fire, but not why Amber was at the strip club at three in the morning when she called in sick to work, or why her car was found two blocks away the following morning. Duffy and Aston refused to comment, of course, and took possession of her car before Royce had a chance to search it.
“Do you want to know what I think?” Sawyer asked when Royce expressed his irritation at the possibility of never getting those answers.
“I do.”
“I think she was wrapping up her case. She called in sick and went into the bar to obtain the evidence she needed at a time it should’ve been empty only to discover McGraw was still there. With no cars in the parking lot, the arsonist thought no one was inside. The answers to everything relating to Amber are probably located in the paperwork and documents inside the safe. I wish we’d had a chance to copy that stuff before handing it over to the feds.”