CHAPTER ONE
“No,”Avila complained, reading over Nick’s shoulder. “This is way too boring. You have to spice it up, give the DA something to grab onto.”
“Grab onto?” Nick gestured at the screen. “This guy was pretending to be a vampire who hadrecovered. He had some church convinced that the power of prayer couldcure vampirism. He made nearly two hundred thousand dollars in donations. What more do you need?”
“You need that! That’s a story. This is just a timeline of things that happened.” Avila raised her eyebrows.
“A timeline is the best way to show how Mr. Weber started and maintained his con. It helps the DA understand that this went on for years.” Nick gestured with one palm up. “It’s also everything that we can prove.”
Avila circled the desk and sat back down in her chair. Grabbing her coffee mug off her desk, she took a sip and made a face. “Boring. Without a story, it’s just a wire fraud case. The DA is going to say wire fraud is federal.”
“I’m hoping he says it’s federal. Federal cases carry a higher minimum sentence on the sort of crime.” Nick leaned forward,feeling a rush of excitement. “And it will be the first case of its kind. It would make the whole department look really good?—”
“King!” Captain Tate’s voice boomed across the bullpen, and Nick felt himself straighten, the part of him that still expected Tate to someday come in and tell him he was transferred, he wasn’t a good fit, this wasn’t the right department for him churning in his stomach.
Tate jerked his hand, standing in the doorway of his office. “In here.”
Swallowing, Nick stood and walked past Avila and Zahide. The latter tilted her head while Avila said, “Ooooooh, someone’s in trouble with the principal.”
Nick tried to glare, but the pit of uncertainty snarled his stomach.
As soon as he walked in, Nick shut the door, standing at attention behind the guest chairs in Tate’s office. His captain had settled himself behind his computer, a pair of reading glasses sliding down his nose.
“Do you know where your husband is?” Tate asked, looking over the rim of the glasses.
Immediately, the churn of anxiety turned into something else, a hard fear that ate Nick’s control, and he asked, “Is Parker okay?”
There were always five hundred things that could go wrong with Parker, and after being together for so long, Nick managed to mute his anxiety about most of them. Sure, it was unlikely that Parker was going to be kidnapped by a black ops government organization who found out he was fae. But it wasn’t outside of the realm of possibility that Parker had taken a case that was more than he could chew.
“As far as I know, he’s fine. But he popped up at the scene of a murder.” Tate leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingerstogether. “Which is not a good look for him, you, and, by extension, me.”
“Is he the main suspect?” Nick asked. His fingers twitched, ready to pull out his cell phone and call the defense attorney he had on retainer.
He’d never told Parker that he’d hired one early on in their relationship, but now that the situation had arisen, he was glad that he had her on speed dial.
“I don’t know. I just got a call from the Major Crimes captain, who said that Ferro is over there shouting my name like it’s a get-out-of-jail-free card.” Tate pointed at him, his beefy hand making the gesture more meaningful. “Go. Figure out what is going on. Extract your husband, or at least tell him to stop getting me in trouble with other captains. I emailed you the address and the notes I took from the Major Crimes captain.”
“Thank you, sir.” Nick nodded and turned to head out the door.
“King,” Tate said, waiting for Nick to turn back. “You might want to change before you head over. From what Major Crimes said, it’s bloody.”
At his locker, Nick tried not to think about what “bloody” meant, although his mind supplied a ready flow of images. No. Parker was probably fine. He always was.
Nick grabbed his extra suit and changed out of his formal dress shoes into a pair of sneakers that Parker had bought him (“How you run in those dress shoes, I have no idea. Doesn’t it destroy your ankles?”).
“What’s the situation?” Zahide asked, leaning against the locker next to Nick.
“I don’t know yet. They found Parker at a crime scene.” Nick looked through his locker, then grabbed an extra set of sweats. They would fit Parker long in the cuffs, but it would be better than whatever scrubs the CSIs provided.
“Is he okay?” Avila came up behind Zahide, her eyebrows drawn together. “Was he hurt?”
Nick shook my head. “Captain Tate didn’t say. Just that he was asking for Tate.”
“Do you need a ride?” Zahide’s question was practical, but as Nick shut his locker, he kept an eye on his own hands. Steady.
“I’m fine.” Nick took a long breath, exhaling slowly. Of course he was fine. Parker was fine, because he always was.
Avila and Zahide watched Nick go, and when he turned around in the elevator to press the button, he saw them whispering together.
