Something flickers across her face. Confusion, but also the faintest smile. “No. It tastes like cinnamon and vanilla and everything good in this world.”
My chest aches. I take a second sip—like I always did—and pass it back to her. “It tastes like you.”
She curls into my chest, her left hand over my heart. I feel the weight of her ring—or rather the lack of it around my neck. But then I cover her hand with mine and remember. The white gold band is back where it belongs.
Parker meets my gaze in the rear view mirror. “Harris didn’t scream at you?”
“Nope. Didn’t give him much chance. Just told him we’d come in at ten and we were bringin’ you with us.” In the back seat, I hold Grace close. She stares straight ahead behind the dark glasses. Until Parker takes a left at the next light. Then her breath hitches and she curls against me. “Darlin’?”
“I’ll be fine. Turns are still…hard. Don’t worry.”
I snort and press a kiss to her hair. “You might as well expect a flea not to bite.” Turning my attention back to Parker, I ask, “Did you talk to Hardison?”
“As if he’d risk that.” Parker slows and pulls into the station’s back lot. “He’s been at the station since oh-dark-thirty. Zephyr sent him a little somethin’ to install on the chief’s computer. She’s gonna go hunting around in there and see if there’s anything we need to know.”
I offer Grace my hand to help her out of the SUV. She grips the door handle, hesitates for half a second, and stands on her own. But after eyeing the uneven pavement, she lets me wrap an arm around her waist for the short walk into the station.
Harris waits at the back door, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand. He’s trying to look relaxed, but the moment he sees Parker, his shoulders tense up. His free hand rubs the dark bruise on his jaw.
I have to clench my teeth so I don’t smile.
“This ain’t doggie daycare,” he says, voice rough. Behind him, Hardison’s eyebrow twitches.
Dammit. The man better work on his poker face right quick.
“Belle won’t leave Grace’s side.” I fix my stare on the chief’s busted lip. “If she hadn’t been outside when you showed up last night, we wouldn’t be havin’ this conversation. You’d be missin’ half your face, and I’d be scramblin’ to bury the body.”
“Is that a threat, Stone?” Harris’s lip curls into a sneer.
“Nope. Just the God’s honest truth.” I give Belle a glance. Her ears are back, teeth bared, but she’s not growling. Not yet.
Harris shakes his head. “I should suspend you right now.”
“Do it. See if I give a fuck.”
The dare hangs between us for so long, I think he might actually do it. But eventually, he jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “Elmore. Interrogation Room One. Stone. My office. Hardison? Take Mrs. Stone?—”
“No.” I tighten my arm around Grace. “She doesn’t leave my side.”
“Mine either,” Parker adds.
Harris sputters, but Hardison clears his throat. “Chief, unless you’re planning on arresting them…let it go. We can get what we need in a group interroga—interview.”
Damn. Nate might have some decent acting chops after all.
Harris leads us down the hall to the smallest, darkest interview room in the whole goddamn building. Asshole.
I help Grace into the hard metal chair, then take a seat next to her. Belle sits on her other side, fully alert, while Parker leans against the wall by the door.
“Your wife has supposedly been missing for—” Harris checks the file on the table “—two years, eleven months, and somewhere between three and ten days. Care to explain her miraculous reappearance?”
As I lay out the details, sticking to the story we rehearsed the previous night, Grace keeps her gaze pinned to a spot on the table in front of her.
Fuck.
She wasn’t ready for this. None of us were.
I rest my hand on her thigh, and she laces her fingers with mine.
