“I’ve never seen anybody yell at my father. How did that go?” Nari asked, taking another sip.
“It was probably easier to take since we’re dating each other,” Opal said.
Nari set down her glass. “I wondered if we were going to discuss that matter.”
“There’s nothing for us to discuss.” Opal partially turned to look beyond Nari. She frowned. “What in the world?”
The door opened and a man moved inside, even his face covered in a black mask. He moved gracefully and held a weapon.
Nari reacted instantly. She charged.
* * *
Angus shifted on the seat. Nari should be about finished with brunch and he was done with this interview. “Either arrest me or I’m out of here.” Hopefully they wouldn’t call his bluff.
A knock sounded on the door, and Tate stood to open it, leaning down so a uniformed cop could say something in his ear. His broad back visibly tightened and he turned, his eyes burning. “We apparently have another victim. She’s already been identified as Dr. Emily Shelman. Does that name ring a bell?”
Angus straightened. “Yes, but I think you already know that. She’s the doctor who called time of death on Henry Wayne Lassiter six years ago. Where did you find her?”
A muscle ticked down the long cord of Tate’s neck. “She was found in your HDD office by a janitor sent in to clean.”
The news was like a punch to the gut. Angus swallowed. “Was there a note?”
Tate looked at Buckle. “I want to view the scene.”
Buckle nodded toward Angus. “What do you want to do with him?”
Angus stood. “Either take me to the scene or I’m going there on my own. Come on, Tate. You know I didn’t do this, and I can help analyze the scene and the note. I can compare it to all the others for you.”
Tate’s expression didn’t so much as flicker. “All right.”
Buckle straightened. “Hey. We don’t want him with us.”
Tate shrugged. “He’s going either way, and I’d rather keep an eye on him. We could place him under arrest, but he’d be out in hours, and then we’d have to hand the case over to the prosecuting attorney’s office—if the HDD didn’t try to steal the entire case before we could. I’m not done yet.”
Angus walked toward the door. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here.” How annoying. He sent a quick text to Nari, letting her know he might be late and to please hang out at HDD headquarters after brunch with the administrator. Maybe she could spend some time with Brigid. He sent a second text making the suggestion while following Tate out to his unmarked car. It certainly wasn’t the Bentley Angus had spent time in the day before.
The drive was made in silence and Angus studied the two detectives in the front seat. They worked well together, but there were no signs of affection or even friendship. It was a new partnership. “How long have you two worked together?” he asked, testing his theory.
“Three weeks,” Buckle said, peering out the passenger side window. “Why?”
“Just curious.” She’d answered one question, so he went for broke. “What’s your first name, anyway?”
Tate cut him a look in the rearview mirror.
Angus shrugged and grinned. “We’ve spent a lot of time together and I’ve been wondering.”
Buckle partially turned around to look at him. “What did you guess?”
“Something strong and old-fashioned. Margaret or maybe Hayden.” He tilted his head. “Or Joan. Yeah. Joan would be a good name for you.” His guessing game was pissing Tate off. Interesting.
“Hmmm,” Buckle said, turning back around.
Of course, Buckle was a good name, too. Angus looked out the window as they drove toward the mainly deserted parking area of his former office building. “Did the janitor say how the killer got inside?”
“No,” Buckle said. “However, the uniform who called it in didn’t see any sign of forced entry.”
That didn’t mean anything. That crappy old office would be easy to breach; it wasn’t as if HDD had sprung for security cameras. Not even in the elevator. Angus tried to settle his bulk in the back seat, but his knees were still shoved up. Not that he complained. Buckle would probably push her seat back even farther.
