Curious, Fletch peeks over his shoulder.
“She knows something’s up.” I squeeze the bridge of my nose. “But I haven’t told her yet. Not about Agosti, and not about Cordoza coming to the house.”
“Why the fuck not?” He brings his eyes back around. “You two work murder cases together seven days a week. Why the hell would you leave your star quarterback on the bench?”
“Because this isn’t like that! This is New York and Cordoza and…” I swallow my words and paste on a fake ass smile, and when Minka is close enough, I take her hand and draw her in. “Hey.” I press a kiss to her temple and pretend I don’t notice the tension in her body. The curiosity in her eyes. The fucking expectation of full disclosure pulsing with every beat of her heart. “You having a good time, Chief?”
“Sure. Barbecues and babies and…” She slaps my phone to my palm, screen side up. “Estefan Cordoza. Why’s he coming here to talk, Archer?”
Fuck. Me.
“It’s not that I meant to read your private messages, Detective, but itwas right there, buzzing against the table. I thought it odd that he specifically suggestedyoube in residence when he arrives.” She looks from me to Fletch, probing eyes and flat, unenthused lips. “I allowed you your time and space, even when you demanded I sit in your lap. If I have to boot every last guest out until it’s just me and you, then that’s what I’ll do.” But then she gestures to Fletch. “And him too, I suppose. You told him… Now you’ll tell me.”
ARCHER
“Thanks for visiting.” Minka opens the front door and callously gestures people through. When I said this shit was private—family only—she took me at my word and declared our hosting dutiesover.She smiles and places a tin-foil wrapped plate in Doctor Raquel’s hand. “Thanks for coming. So sorry to see you go.”
“Err…” Raquel stumbles backwards. “We weren’t done swimming.”
“Sure you are!” She fixes the bag on Raquel’s shoulder, repositioning the straps so it doesn’t fall. “It was a pleasure to have you, but now it’s time to go.”
“Chief—”
“Maybe you can visit next weekend. Bye, Eliza!” She waves at the younger blonde, slyly side-eyeing my position at the bottom of the staircase. My face in my hands, my stomach in my fuckin’ throat. “It was great to see you again. Good luck at your next… match.”
“Fight.” Eliza juggles her belongings and a half-consumed bottle of soda, all while dripping water onto the tile. “It’s never called a match. Ever.”
“Send us tickets to the next one. Maybe we’ll watch and learn all the rules and stuff. Oh, hi, Fifi.” Minka steps in front of the doorway, blocking the woman’s entry. “Whatcha doing here?”
“Uh…” She pushes to her toes and peeks past Minka into the house. “Doctor Raquel texted and said I was invited for a late lunch.”
Minka glances my way for approval. But Fifi isn’tone of useither. Shedoesn’t know what the family knows, and she’s notwithFletch, no matter how much he wishes she were. So, I shake my head.
Tsking in the back of her throat, Minka drags the door halfway closed. “Any other time, and I’d welcome you in. But everyone was just leaving and?—”
“Fifi!” Mia shouts from the back door, her squeal of delight bouncing across the tile. “You came, Fifi! Did you bring your swimsuit?”
“Here, baby.” Fletch chases his daughter through the hall, his arms outstretched and a towel hanging off his hands. “Wait for Daddy.”
“I’m gonna swim with Fifi!” She pumps her arms and sprints the length of the house, her wet feet slipping on the floor. “It’s so hot outside, Fifi! But it'ssoooonice in the pool.”
Smug, Fifi slaps her palm to the door, holding it wide. “Guess I’m coming in, Chief.”
“I can’t swim on my own, Fifi!” Mia crashes into the woman’s legs and climbs her the way a baby monkey climbs a tree. Wrapping her legs around Fifi’s trim waist and her arms around her neck, Mia glows with excitement. “I sink all the way to the bottom unless Cato holds me. You can swim, though, right?”
“I sure can. And you already got me all wet, so isn’t that lucky? I get to come in, even when Auntie Minka is being quite rude. But then again, she does that a lot, huh?”
“Everybody’s having a meeting,” Mia grumbles. “That’s why Cato told me I had to get out of the pool. But here you are!”
“And now you’re leaving.” Fletch strides up behind the girls and drapes the towel over Mia’s back. Then he scoops his arm around the pair and herds them through the door. “You don’t mind hanging out with Mia downtown, do you, Sera?”
“Wh—” Fifi’s eyes flare wide. Hurt. Confusion. “I… What?”
“You’re gonna go to Sera’s place for a little while, okay, Moo?”
“Really?” Mia squeaks. “That would be cool, too! Can we paint toes, Fifi? I like it when we paint toes.”
“Charlie—”
