“He asked you to autopsy the body, Chief Mayet. Follow the steps. That’s all he wants.”
“As long as everyone is on the same page.” I lean over the top of the stretcher and fist Anthony’s black bag, then, tugging him my way with a practiced huff and expert precision, I surprise both Numbers when their brows shoot high and their eyes widen. “It’s not so difficult to move deadweight once you’ve done it a few times.” I straighten Agosti on the stretcher and get to work securing the straps that’ll keep him where he’s meant to be. “You’d know all about that, right? In your line of work, I’m sure you’ve handled your fair share of DBs.”
“No comment.” Number-One wanders closer and peeks inside the now-empty fridge slip. Human beings rarely stop being curious, even if they’re trained to stand motionless. Emotionless. “Do they freeze in there, or just chill?”
“Depends. Some we freeze, some we refrigerate. John Doe—” Irefuseto say his name out loud. “—has only been chilled, since he’s fresh, and I knew I’d get to him relatively quickly.” I move to Agosti’s bottom end and check the tag attached to make sure I’ve got the correct body, then I drag his zipper down and peek at the prick’s face for the same reason.
God forbid I bring the wrong body upstairs.
“You’d be surprised by how many of these get mixed up.” Whipping the zipper closed, I push Agosti’s evacuated tray back in, then I position myself at the top of his stretcher and smile. “Door, please.”
Number-Two spins on his heels and drags the heavy door open, so I wheel Agosti’s two-hundred and thirty-odd pounds over smooth tile flooring and across the threshold. I kick the brakes and make fast work of signing in at the computer again, confirming I have my John Doe and the fridge is officially empty. Then I log out and head toward the elevator.
“Are either of you married?” I peek at each of my guards’ hands, one after the other, before wheeling Agosti into the elevator and flipping a latch that thrusts the stretcher into a whole new configuration, sending Agosti vertical and testing his restraints with the power of gravity. “I see no rings. Though,” I raise my left hand. “I’m not wearing mine, either. The absence of jewelry is hardly an accurate clue to a person’s relationship status.”
“Are you trying to annoy us to death, Chief Mayet?” Number-Two steps in after One, selecting the number nine on the keypad, and pressing his back to the side wall now that we have significantly less room in here. “We told you there’s no need for conversation. We especially don’t intend to speak of our personal lives.”
“Why not? I’m just a girl, and girls like talking about that stuff, don’t they?”
Number-One scoffs.
“Tell me before we get back to my floor. I don’t really know those other guys, which means I’m gonna be shy once we arrive. Kids?” I meet Two’s eyes and consider. “You don’t seem like a procreate-and-keep-them type.”
His jaw grits and flexes under stubbled skin.
“How is your relationship with your mother?”
“For fuck’s sake.” Number-One drops his head back, thunking it against the wall, and stares up at the ceiling. “It’s gonna be a long day.”
ARCHER
“She’s pretty pissed at me.” Fletch reclines at his desk, his feet on top, and works hard with his tongue as he attempts to dislodge a seed or some shit from between his teeth. “Like, not ‘Charlie said really horrible, abusive things to me’ pissed. But definitely the kind of pissed that ends with silent treatment and the stink eye. She thinks I was being rude when I sent her and Mia away. And then she,oh so casually, accused me of sending her away so I could party and mack on some other random chick without my daughter witnessing it.”
I stare down at my phone, the black screen horrifyingly bare, and turn the device on my desk. I spin it in a circle. Circle. Circle.
“Claiming that I’m with someone else isnotsomething an uninterested woman says, right? She thinks I’m using her as free childcare while I’m out here fucking every broad I cross paths with. And I couldn’t even tell her the truth of the matter, considering it's…” He stares up at the watermarked ceiling, huffing a frustrated breath into the already hot air. “It’s not shareable. And not sharing only makes her think she was right all along. Which is making her angrier and angrier, when I technically didn’t do anything wrong.”
Circle. Circle. Circle.
Call her? Call Felix? Call Cordoza himself?
“Uninterested women don’t pout about who a guy is sleeping with, right? It’s not like Penny playsTwenty Questionsevery time I get home.Aubree and Minka aren’t scowling when I don’t reply to their texts.” He drops his chin and meets my eyes. “Well… that’s not fair. Sera doesn’t hit me with twenty questions.Ever. Usually just one or two, and she doesn’t believe whatever answer I give her, anyway. IwishI had unanswered texts in my inbox, but she never fuckin’ sends any.”
I should call her office. Get an update.
She promised she’d contact me if there were any issues.
But it’s hard to call your husband if you’re already dead or incapacitated.
“Archer!” Fletch drops his feet and slams his desk against mine, closing the single-inch gap between them with a loud boom. “I’m spilling my guts and whining about Sera—again. And you can’t even give a desperate man the luxury of listening to him bitch—again.”
“Shut up. I’m preoccupied.” I rest my elbows on my desk and stare down at my silent phone. “She’s at work and I’m…”
Not okay with it.
Not fucking comfortable.
Scared to my bones.
