Page 61 of Murder Notes

“I finished up a drug bust. A big one. I was proud as hell over that case. I bled for that takedown. Next thing I know, there’re accusations of someone dying, of me taking bribes. It makes no sense.”

“And your partner?”

“Nelson was my partner.”

My blood runs cold. “Nelson? Since when is Nelson your partner?”

“We were matched up two weeks ago when my old one died.”

“Died? How did he die?”

“Undercover on the same job I was working.”

“Tell me you aren’t being blamed for that.”

He gives a grim nod. “I am.”

I stand up and walk away, hand on my forehead. This happened two weeks ago. It can’t be connected to the murders or me. No one knew I was coming here then. I didn’t know. Unless . . . were they, whoever the hell they are, trying to get me here? Did they kill someone here to draw me in? That’s insanity. I’m thinking crazy now.

“I guess I could become a PI, right?” Greg says. “If I don’t end up in jail for murder.”

I face him. “Stop it. Neither scenario is going to happen. I’m going to fix this.”

“No,” he says, standing up. “You are not getting involved, Lilah.”

“My boss—”

“No. No. Fuck no. Do you understand?”

“Why is me helping you a problem?”

“The feds bailing me out? I’ll look like a snitch.”

“And you’re snitching on who?”

“I don’t know, but my career might not be all that is over in that scenario. Snitches die. Promise me you won’t do this.”

“Greg—”

“Lilah. No. Promise me.”

“Fine.” I slide my hands behind my back and cross my fingers. “I promise.”

“Oh hell. You did that behind-your-back crossed-fingers thing that keeps you from feeling guilty about a lie. You’re going to do this, aren’t you?”

“No.”

He charges at me and grabs my hand, but not before I uncross my fingers and give him the bird. “No crossed fingers.”

“You’re going to do this, aren’t you?” he repeats.

“I’ll make sure it’s off the record. I’ll protect you.”

He scrubs his jaw, whiskers rasping. “Damn it. I should have left the door shut.”

“But you have to shave in exchange for the favor.” I sniff. “And shower. You’ll never get a woman like this. Okay? Plus I might need one more favor.”

“Favor. I’m a drunk slob and you want a favor?”