Page 66 of Sinful Seduction
With wild eyes and gritted teeth, she spins and meets my stare, seemingly more worried about getting into trouble than she is about the body on the ground.
I gesture her way with a flick of my wrist, breaking her from her rooted stance.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!”
“Did she seriously just toss that John Doe?” Aubree shakes her head, her plastic apron rustling with the movement. “Back in my day, doing something like that would be grounds for a stern talking to.” She meets my eyes. “And by back in my day, I mean a year ago, when the studious Chief Mayet was new, socially scornful, and mean.”
“I’mstillscornful and mean.” I set my clipboard and pen aside, and, pushing to my feet, I stride to the suite door and swing it open. “Doctor Flynn! Are you for real right now?”
“I’m sorry!” She gets under her John Doe, grunting. “He just slipped, Chief! He was here, and then he wasn’t. Kirk!” She hounds the poor young tech and brings his desperately-trying-not-to-notice gaze around. “Be a gentleman, won’t you?”
“You’ve softened.” Amused, Aubree slides a needle into Doug’s eyeball and extracts fluid for the toxicology lab. “OG Minka Mayet would’ve called a staff meeting and chewed everyone out. You remember the dead guy who wasn’t actually dead?”
“Landry Mellet.” I close the door again and turn, pressing my back against the glass wall. “I remember clearly. His name. His age. I remember what he looked like when he regained consciousness inside the fridges in my building, and I especially remember the time he attempted to sue this facility for mismanagement.” I raise a single, questioning brow. “I rememberallthe details, Doctor Emeri.”
“And yet…” She snickers under her breath. “Flynn’s out here flipping DBs like this is a slumber party.”
“You’re entirely too…” I push away from the wall, screwing my nose and lips tight, and return to my clipboard. “Jovial. It’s weird.”
“I’ll be less jovial if you move into the big house with me. If you have amoral objection to living at the Waterfalls, then you might be interested to know I have approximately thirty-eleven spare bedrooms. Take your pick. We won’t even notice each other, since the house is so large.”
I snag my pen and plop back onto my seat, and trailing my eyes along Doug’s left side, I note the old, healed grazing on his knee. “Pass. But thanks for thinking of me.”
“Pain in my ass,” she grumbles. “Why do you have to be so difficult?”
“And lift,” Flynn coaches, straining under her DB’s hefty weight. “I said lift, James!”
“I am lifting!”
ARCHER
Fletch and I stride through the hospital front doors and make a beeline for the elevators. But there’s no way we don’t pause for a beat and glance toward the ER. Just casually listening out for a sniping Minka. Watching for Aubree or Mia or Fifi to run through.
“You checking too?” Fletch slaps the call button and stalks inside the instant the doors open. “Like we know to expect some bullshit every damn day.”
“Doesn’t hurt to take a peek, just in case.” I follow him in and turn back to select the ICU floor, but before the doors even close, my phone chirps in my back pocket, dropping a ball of dread into the base of my stomach. “Tell me you didn’t just jinx us.” I snag my phone and swipe to answer. “This is Detective Archer Malone.”
“Detective. It’s Brady Clay, sir. Officer from?—”
“Midtown. Yeah, I got it. We’re actually in the building now and heading your way. Everything okay?”
“Well…” He swallows, audibly shuffling on his feet. “I just received a call from my CI across town, sir. He’s a guy who sometimes runs with the not-so-above-board types.”
“As most of them do. Headline it for me, Officer.”
“Uh, yes, sir. My CI visually identified Grant Freemon down by Chapel talking to a known runner. The runner’s name is Caleb Shuberman, and he’s currently on bail for a slew of smaller crimes. My CI saysShuby and Grant were tight back in the day, and today was the first time Grant has been back in a good long while.”
“Interesting.” I nibble on the inside of my cheek and meet Fletch’s honeycomb eyes. “Freemon’s daughter gets caught up in a shooting that involves the not-so-above-board types, and now her daddy’s back on the streets talking to his old crew. Your CI have anything else to share?”
“Yeah, he…” He clears his throat. “He said Freemon’s gonna do a job for this other guy, Beckman. Beckman is a mid-level gangster. He controls a few neighborhoods and earned his slice of power. Beckman is successful enough to require washing cash, and Freemon happens to know how to do that, so…”
“He would, I suppose.” I drag my free hand through my hair, scratching my scalp in frustration. “Street kid learns street skills, goes legit, and uses that same hustle to make regular life work.” Dropping my hand, I sigh. “Why? What’s he owe Beckman?”
“My CI couldn’t say for sure, but he’s of the opinion Freemon’s looking for information about his daughter’s shooter. Shuby connected him to Beckman, and Beckman is receptive to helping, so long as Freemon’s willing to return the favor. He’ll find whoever shot at Molly, and Freemon will repay that with a little laundry detergent.”
“And just like that, the street boy who made something of himself slinks right back to where he started. Only now, he has a hell of a lot more to lose.”
“We’re coming around the corner now.” Fletch grabs my arm and strides through the opening elevator doors. “We’ll be with you in a sec, Clay.”