Rory knocked again. “Open the door, Teivel. I’m here to take statements.”
With obvious reluctance, Luke pulled the door open so he could glare at Rory. “My statement? I stand by the fact that you’re an asshole.”
“Real mature.” Holding a steel clipboard, Rory walked into the room without an invitation. “Where’s the girl?”
Luke gestured toward Sorcha.
Rory growled at him. “Not her. The one you were seen running away with from the fire.”
“She left.”
Rory’s jaw dropped. “And you let her go without a statement?”
“Didn’t know I was supposed to knee cap her. Last time I checked, keeping someone against their will is false imprisonment.” Remind me sometime to tell you how I learned that lesson when I first got here.
Sorcha inwardly groaned as Luke passed that thought to her. She could only imagine what the lunatic had done before he’d learned they had rules in this dimension.
Poor victim…
Opening his clipboard and pulling out a sheet of paper, Rory made the sound of a low, frustrated growl. “Why are all conversations with you impossible and migraine inducing?”
“Because we don’t converse. I find conversation with you to be utterly trivial and boring.”
Sorcha really wanted to laugh at the expression on Luke’s face. But the last thing she wanted was to contribute to their mutual disdain. So, she decided to distract them. “Would you like my statement, Rory?”
“Please.” He passed an angry grimace toward Luke before he crossed the room to where she stood. Only then did he glance about with a fierce grimace of distaste. “Fire your decorator. This is darker than most caves. How can anyone work in this environment? It looks like a teen-aged Goth threw up.”
Completely unrepentant, Luke moved to his desk chair and sat down as if he were…well, the prince of Hell. “If you don’t like my cave, door’s in the wall.” He put his booted feet up on his desk, then turned his smart board on and somehow began watching a baseball game.
Rory curled his lips. “What are you doing?”
“Watching the Savannah Bananas. Why aren’t you?”
Clipping a piece of paper to his pad, Rory shook his head. “How do you work with him?” he asked Sorcha.
“I think he’s funny.” But not nearly as funny as the weird ball game he was watching. “What is that?”
“It’s Banana Ball. You should try it after you finish giving your statement to the monkey who inspired me to watch it.”
What was it about the two of them that they couldn’t even pretend to get along?
“Is there somewhere else we could go to do this? Anywhere else?” Rory asked.
Luke glared at him. “Right here is fine.”
“I need to take statements from both of you. I’d rather do it individually.”
“Why?” Luke asked like a petulant toddler. “We’re both professionals and I don’t feel comfortable leaving my partner alone with you. She might get rabies or something.”
Rory rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll take your statements here.” He glanced to Sorcha. “Normally, I’d force him to the station for this, but I know he’ll make friends with my boss and probably get me fired. Or written up…again.”
The shit-eating grin that spread across Luke’s face said that he might do it anyway. “I challenge you to take me in.”
“Behave!” she said to Luke.
“Why? Misbehaving is so much more fun.”
Ignoring Luke, Rory cleared his throat. “Can you walk me through what happened at the apartment?”
