Page 14 of My Beautiful Sin

“No, and it was Franklin’s call. If you want to consider it a punishment, I won’t correct you.”

“Fine. Fine. Do you have any actual good news for me?”

“Other than continuing to draw a paycheck?”

I rub my temple. “Funny. I was hoping we could talk about the Peter story. I’m still planning on writing it, and I’m going to publish it somewhere. So if—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I talked with Franklin about that, too.”

“Oh.” I sit up straighter. “And?”

“We still want to run it. With a byline. We think having your name on it would be an asset. A personal essay with solid reporting to underscore the emotional parts. What do you say?”

What I want is to squeal with joy because it’s perfect, and I tell him so.

“Then keep me posted. I’d like it to run next month, but I have a feeling you’re going to need more time to dig.”

“You’re right about that. In fact, I’m about to head to the police station right now. I’m hoping Lamar can spare some time to help me with a couple of interviews.” I want to talk to Peter’s business contacts in Laguna Cortez. And I want to start tracing back to his contacts in LA.

“Detective Gage? The one who came to the office about a year ago?”

That summer, Lamar had flown to New York for a long theater weekend, and I’d taken him to the office to show off my editor and my desk with the same kind of glee that he shows his badge to elementary school kids.

“Give him my best,” Roger says.

“Will do,” I say, before ending the call with a fresh burst of enthusiasm. After all, not only am I no longer in employment limbo, but I’ve got a legitimate, work-related reason to do all the research that Devlin wants me to avoid.

Chapter Six

Lamar’s interrogating someone when I arrive. I’d called ahead to make sure he wasn’t in the field, and since I’m not only expected but also a bit of LCPD royalty, I’m escorted in and permitted to sit in observation watching Lamar do his thing.

It’s a nice perk, but all in all I’d rather my father—the former Chief of Police—not have been killed in the first place. His death had left me with Chief Randall and his wife Amy as my guardians during that nether period between Daddy’s murder and me bailing on my last year of high school.

I don’t think about that now, though. Instead, I entertain myself by watching Lamar, whose ability to shift seamlessly between good cop and bad cop makes him a formidable interrogator.

Today, he’s doing his rendition of a burnt-out bad cop, and the way he verbally lashes out at the suspect combined with his don’t-give-a-fuck posture is a dead-on perfect performance.

The subject in the chair seems to think so, too, because the more Lamar goes on, the twitchier he becomes. By the time an hour’s passed, the guy is ready to share all he knows about how his landlord set fire to the laundry room, apparently betting that an insurance payout was more likely than an arson conviction.

“Not bad,” I tell Lamar, after he enters the observation room to a round of applause from me and a handful of uniformed officers who’ve also been enjoying the show.

“By the way, where’s Endo?” I ask, after I’ve followed him back to his very cramped broom closet of an office.

I’ve only met his partner, Benton Endo, once. I’d flown from New York to San Diego to do research on a story, and the two had driven down to meet me for dinner.

“Thought I told you. I’m flying solo until he gets back. Paternity leave. Three months at home changing diapers.” He flashes a grin. “Poor bastard.”

“Don’t even. I bet you swing by at least twice a week so that the baby knows Uncle Lamar.”

“Damn,” he says. “It’s like you know me.”

“In all your annoying glory. Tell him and his wife congrats from me. And as for flying solo, it didn’t look like you needed him today at all. But I think I saw a bit of Our Suburbia when you were working that suspect.”

He winces. “Now you’re just being cruel.”

“Hardly,” I counter, my voice laced with a tease.

Our Suburbia was the most popular of the shows from Lamar’s days as a child actor. Not only had it been a big hit twenty years ago, but so had Lamar, who’d played the second youngest brother. I never watched the show as a kid, but after meeting Lamar, I’d made it a point to binge every episode.