Eve chewed on her lip, this time really contemplating the move, when the doorknob turned under her gaze.
Darius had a folder in one hand. He used the other to point to her mouth.
“Whatever bad idea you and that poor lip you always chew on have, go ahead and park it here,” he said. “Let me remind you you’re at a sheriff’s department and not some movie theater you can go sneaking around in.”
Eve blew out her own exasperation. She decided rolling her eyes was too much, but she knew her tone let him know it was missing.
“I’m not some kid anymore. I don’t need you telling me what I should or shouldn’t do.”
Darius snorted. He took his seat opposite her. The framed picture she had already studied at length that sat between them showed Darius in the middle of a group of people at what looked like a mechanic’s shop. Some of those faces Eve recognized as the law, others seemed to be their partners and children. Darius was sandwiched between an extremely tall man and a teenaged girl with pretty blond hair.
She didn’t think the girl was his daughter, and several glances at his ring finger made her believe that Darius was single.
Or, at least, not married.
She wouldn’t put it past him to leave the rest of his sentimental pictures at home. He had never been a big sharer, after all.
But, shared past or not, the present was more important than figuring out his current relationship status.
She needed to talk to Mitchell.
So she made sure he heard that need one more time.
“Can I see Mitchell now?”
Darius leaned back in his chair a little. The folder didn’t leave his hand.
“Which is what your fiancé keeps saying too. Minus the seeing part. Instead, he keeps sayingtalk. ‘I need to talk to Evelyn.’”
She felt a fake smile trying to hurry and hide her rising anxiousness. Darius had always been good at seeing through the few times she had put on a fake smile as kids.
Now wasn’t the time to see if that skill still worked.
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to see or talk to me after something like this happened,” she pointed out.
Darius was quick, but his words felt like they were lounging.
“No, not strange at all, but what has a few of us scratching our heads is who he won’t let us talk to.”
Eve felt her eyebrow rise.
“Who? Scott?” She shook her head a little. “You know Mitchell is his own man and doesn’t constantly need his brother for everything.” Eve didn’t like how Darius looked so comfortable all of a sudden. To push her own point home, she contrasted his stance. She crossed her arms over her chest.
Darius’s expression was impassive.
“Men with money and backing like the Keys typically call for a lawyer first.”
“Gary Whittaker is the Keyses’ family lawyer. You can see why he wouldn’t be asking for him.”
Even to her own ears Eve heard her voice go sharp.
Darius didn’t budge.
“And, again, men with money and backing like the Keys can surely find themselves another lawyer when needed.”
In hindsight, Eve would realize she had glossed over how the last word changed the entire situation. Mitchell needed a lawyer, not wanted one.
Heneededone.
