My footsteps are enough to draw his attention, the sound of expensive leather hitting cracked pavement.
His jaw tightens when he sees me, like he’s caught somewhere he shouldn’t be. Which is exactly right.
“Detective.” My voice comes out low, bored, like I’ve already decided he’s a waste of my morning. “You’ve got the wrong block.”
Campbell straightens up, fake casual like his fake-ass power in this town. “Public property, Mr. Volkov. Last time I checked, sidewalks are free to everyone.”
I don’t bother answering.
Instead, I take one more step into his space, then slam him against the side of his car so hard the whole thing rattles.
He grunts, tries to brace his arm between us, but I press harder until his breath hitches.
“You think you’re clever, showing up here?” My words come out calm and measured, but I’m on the verge of strangling him with my bare hands. “Scouting a place you shouldn’t even know exists?”
“Careful,” he grinds out, trying to keep his tough-cop act going. “Assaulting an officer?—”
“Is just Tuesday for me.” I lean in closer, my hand fisted in his cheap suit jacket. “Don’t insult me with the badge, Campbell. You’re not here doing your job. You’re here sniffing around something that belongs to me. And that—” I tighten my grip until his face goes red. “—is where you’re going to learn the difference between a detective and a dead man.”
His eyes flicker, just for a second. Fear, hidden under the arrogance.
I see it. I always do.
“Why do you care about a bakery?” he manages.
“You want advice?” I whisper, close enough he can smell the espresso on my breath. “Go find some other corner of the city to haunt. Because if I ever catch you sniffing around her again, I’ll personally cut the curiosity out of your skull. And it won’t be quick.”
Campbell swallows hard. He’s trying to play it off, but his pulse is hammering under my hand.
“Yeah?” he rasps. “We’ll see who cuts who.”
I smile, all teeth, then shove him back into his car hard enough that his head smacks the frame.
He winces, rubbing his neck like he’ll feel it for days.
Good.
I see this motherfucker again, there’s going to be a bullet in his head.
Straightening my jacket like he never touched me, I walk away, only stopping when Arlo falls into step beside me.
“You want him followed?” Arlo asks quietly.
“No.” I glance once over my shoulder, watching Campbell climb back into his car. “He’s already choking on the leash. Let him pull against it. Makes it easier to know which way he’ll run.”
Arlo grins faintly. He lives for this shit.
We’re halfway down the block when he clears his throat. “Got something else you’ll want to hear.”
I don’t slow down to our car. “Go on.”
“Delivery from the bakery—box of red velvet cupcakes headed to Mayor Wilson’s office today.”
That makes me full stop.
I turn, eyes narrowing because what the fuck is going on this morning? “Red velvet?”
Arlo grunts, and I know what that means.
