“I worked briefly with her brother-in-law and sister, so we’ve met before,” I said, giving him just enough to answer his question, and then I tried to move on.
“What’s up?” I asked him, hoping to make whatever this was quick.
“Uhh, some prick from the ISB called to let us know Ms. O’Hara’s apartment was broken into and they think it might be from the podcaster, Steve Stanton,” Diden chimed in, having just come fully into my living room after petting Sarge.
Both she and Jennings looked back and forth between the two of us, likely feeling uncomfortable talking about this in front of Iris.
“That’s why she’s here,” I told them. “I met with the officers at her apartment and walked through what we had on our end so they had everything they needed to see if it is, in fact, the same guy. They suggested she not stay there tonight, so she came here.”
Jennings nodded and then turned to Iris. “Uh, both of us have cabins nearby, so if this lug gives you any trouble, you’re more than welcome to stay with either of us.”
This motherfucker was not seriously asking her to leave my place and go hop to his...
“I’m okay. Thank you though,” she responded politely. “It’s just for one night until I can get myself set up at a friend’s house. And Hector has helped my family out before, so I know he’ll keep me safe.”
I felt a sense of pride in her words and also enjoyed that she had essentially shot him down.
“Well, it appears that you already knew about the break-in,” Diden said. “Sorry to bother you, Chief. You weren’t answering your phone, so we figured we’d stop by.”
I looked over at my phone, picking it up from the side table and noting the black screen. “It looks like it died. Sorry.”
“No big deal,” Jennings said. “Keep us posted on what you hear, especially if you need us to start making more patrols around the crime scene if this loser really does show up.”
“I will,” I told them.
“Thanks for taking the time to come by anyway,” Iris said to him politely while I internally rolled my eyes.
I walked them back to the door and locked up before returning to my chair to finally relax.
“That was nice of them to stop by,” she said to me.
Of course, she would think that. “Super nice,” I said, and even I could hear my voice dripping with sarcasm and disdain.
“Do you not like Jennings and Diden?” she asked me.
I sighed. “I do. I just don’t like people from work coming to my house,” I explained, also not liking how he flirted with her but choosing to keep that part to myself. “I see these people all day, so of course I would be thrilled to see them after hours as well.”
She smiled a weird smile at me.
“What’s that look for?” I asked her, my curiosity getting the better of me.
“I just never pictured you as the sarcastic type—mostly just broody,” she said with a grin.
“Yeah, well, punching people in the face is frowned upon by management, so I use sarcasm to get through the day,” I grumbled.
“That’s why I crochet and do needlepoint,” she said, nodding to the stuff in her lap. “Murder is wrong. Needlepoint is safer. I stab fabric so I don’t have to stab people.”
For the first time in a long time, I burst out laughing.
I slept terribly last night. Tossing and turning to thoughts of Iris. Thoughts of her being kidnapped. Thoughts of her being harmed. And also, thoughts of her amazing body, naked and underneath me.
I had never really let a bystander from a case get to me like this.
Realizing sleep was never going to come, I finally got up and started to make some coffee just as the sun was coming up. After letting Sarge out to do his business, I came back inside to hear the shower kick on down the hallway.
I powered through while she showered. She already consumed my thoughts hourly. I didn’t need a further reminder of how her body would look. It was excruciatingknowing she was just on the other side of the wall—naked, wet, and touching her body.
Stop. Do not go there.
