Bishop needed to deal with that, because of and despite the fact that he slept with Kit last night. All he wanted to do wastie the boy down. Wrench more sweet, secret sounds from those perfect lips. Revel in the overdue surrender.
Instead, Bishop left Kit with the others, in the house he’d impulsively agreed to move into. If impulse meant a thought he hadn’t dared to mull over, ever since James bought the place.
Bishop had expected to feel more regret leaving this afternoon. Maybe some jealousy, because understanding the arrangement was different from living it. Bishop had his reservations about Holden, but he didn’t blame the psycho for his jealousy.
He just didn’t share it. All Bishop felt was relief. He trusted the others to keep Kit safe. Kit trusted him too, apparently. There was a moment at the front door when Bishop thought Kit would ask him to stay. If Kit had, Bishop would have.
Kit had just jumped up on his tiptoes to kiss Bishop goodbye and said sternly, “Be back before curfew, young man.”
Bishop had chuckled. “I should swat you for that.”
“You should,” Kit said, green eyes brightening.
Okay. Bishop had some regrets leaving the house. But this investigation was essential. Once it was settled, he’d have time to spank Kit until he cried.
Bishop stepped onto a porch dotted with beautifully maintained flowerpots. A sunflower design surrounded the doorbell, which Bishop pressed.
He’d considered sneaking into Paula’s house to take her by surprise. Darius had pointed out that Paula would probably just shoot him in that situation. Sneaking in was something James would think of. Bishop needed to control his nerves.
When she opened the door, Paula looked ready to shoot anyway. “What the heck are you doing here?”
“Always a pleasure,” Bishop replied. “Should we chat inside, or out where everyone can see us?”
Paula glanced past his shoulder. “There’s coffee on—want a cup?”
“No thanks,” Bishop said out of self-preservation. Paula always made coffee strong as tar.
She was a plump, diminutive redhead, and she never wore makeup. Bishop only knew the latter fact because she mentioned it so often at work.
As neat as her front yard was, her kitchen was a mess. Paula snagged her chipped coffee mug and leaned next to the dish-filled sink. “Where have you been? The guys didn’t see you last night.”
“I must have just missed them,” Bishop lied. He hadn’t gone home at all. “What did they want?”
Paula’s lips pursed. Bishop waited, quiet, giving her space to sort through the conflicting loyalties.
That was the shit Bishop didn’t miss.
“The chief wants you distracted,” Paula said finally. “He wants to hire you for an unrelated case.”
“Did he think that would work?” Bishop asked.
“It’s a missing kid or something. Real sympathetic.” Paula sipped her coffee. The scent was strong enough that Bishop could practically taste it, but her expression remained melancholy. “I shouldn’t be telling you this.”
Now they were getting somewhere. There were times to wait, and times to prod. Paula was an easier interviewee than Kit. “Why are you?”
“The chief told me to.” Paula glared off to the right. Where the chief’s office would be, if they were standing at Paula’s desk. A well-worn habit. “He didn’t tell me to tell you he’d told me,of course. But he wanted me to check in on you, see if you were digging your nose into the Archie business.”
“That’s not weird,” Bishop said. “I can be disruptive.”
Just a hint of refutation. Enough to make Paula want to prove her point.
She took the bait. “Don’t get full of yourself. You’re disruptive, but the chief should want Archie back behind bars ASAP. Cut the news cycle short, give us a nice publicity win. This defensiveness didn’t make sense.”
“But it does now?”
“You sure you don’t want coffee?” Paula seemed satisfied with Bishop’s grimace. “Smart man. I make good coffee for the chief, you know. He’s old and sexist enough that he doesn’t think it’s weird for me to make him coffee when I’m not his secretary.”
Damn. Bishop should have become closer friends with Paula sooner. “What did you find in his office?”
