Page 8 of Dancing in the Dark

He swings curious eyes back my way. “I’m not sure that’s really your job.”

“Nah, and she said as much. She apologized. She was desperate. Mia and I took a leisurely stroll to the drugstore and grabbed what she needed, then we brought it all back and left it at her door. She tried to pay me back, but I figured using Mrs. Mayweather’s twenty to help another single parent was kismet, in a way.” I take another bite of my burrito and groan. So fuckin’ delicious. “Didn’t feel right taking her money.”

“You could probably apply to management for reimbursement or something.”

“It’s cool. If it happens every week, then I’ll change my tune. But for a one-off…?” I shrug. “Seemed like the right thing to do.”

“Makes you a good man.” He bumps his shoulder against mine. “So you’re happy with the side gig and being paid to help folks out?”

“Fuck yes. Hell, I’d do it for free, since my rent is already dirt cheap and way less than I was paying at that other dump. Two weeks ago, I was going backward. Now, I’m paying my bills, adding a few dollars to savings, and doing good deeds.”

I slow my steps and watch through narrowed eyes as a dude, can’t be a day over eighteen years old, drops into step ten feet behind a little old lady whose entire frame rests on a walking cane and whose purse dangles from her shoulder for easy pickings.

I’m not saying he’s gonna swipe it, but…

“Doing good deeds means I get good karma. Good karma means we’ve closed four different homicides since Sunday night, each of them within a couple of hours of being assigned them.”

“Careful,” he grumbles. “Don’t jinx it, dumbass. You know better than to say shit like that in our line of work.” Already, his focus is on the maybe-thief, his burrito disappearing faster than it would under other circumstances. “Is he gonna do it or not?”

“Dunno.” But I eat quickly too, mouthfuls that ache on their way down my throat. “Kinda looks like he’s considering it. Good karma means we’re right here, witnessing a potential crime before it happens, which means we can help get her hard candies and old handkerchiefs back before she hits the ground. Hopefully.”

His lips twitch with humor. “Hopefully. You thinking that good karma will extend to you and Fifi, too? I heard she’s gonna be at Aubs’ thing on Sunday.”

God. Fuck. Yes, please.

But instead of sounding so desperate out loud, I merely shrug and work on flattening my grin. “She’s going, huh? I hadn’t heard.”

“You fuckin’ liar!” He barks out on a laugh.

Startled, the would-be thief swings around and stares at a couple of plainclothes detectives out for a middle-of-the-day stroll. But then again, I’m wearing a badge around my neck, and we’re both packing.

Just like that, he spins and takes off into an alleyway, away from the old lady and without her purse.

“Look at that,” Arch chuckles. “Copeland City streets are safe for another day. I can see how your building management folks think simply having a cop in-house is a good thing. It discourages tomfoolery and illegal shenanigans. A lack of tomfoolery is good for everyone. Except the tomfools, anyway.”

“You’re saying a lot of words.” I scan the street and spy another cart half a block up. Salivating at the idea of an icy cold soda to wash my lunch down, I pick up my pace. “What happened to the always-grumpy Archer I know, anyway? I miss that guy. He was quiet.”

He snorts. “I’m happy when my people are happy.” We pass our tomfool’s alleyway and peek in as we go, but that kid is already long gone. Off to mess with someone else. “You moved into a safe apartment with modern luxuries. Ya know, like running water and decent cooling.”

Har-har. But also… true.

“I’ve been getting daily Mia updates through Cato, and she’s apparently the happiest little fart machine who ever lived, so that’s cool. Add in that my wife is safe and on this side of the country. Inside my house. With guards at the door. Oh, and Steve cooked our dinner last night.” He bounces his brows. “It was damn good, and Mayet didn’t even think to ask why he was cooking our dinner, which means she hasn’t even noticed that he kinda moved in or that she’s been hoodwinked yet.”

“Hoodwink.” I ponder the word. “Tomfoolery. Shenanigans. You’re being awfully loud today. It’s weird.”

He shoves the last of his burrito into his mouth and scrunches the foil wrapping. Tossing it into a trash can an easy twelve feet away, he hisses his pleasure as it lands without even touching the edges. “Swish, bitch.”

“Ever considered a career in the NBA? Seems it runs in the family.” I finish the last of my burrito, scrunch the foil, and toss it.

Too bad I wasn’t born with Malone blood in my veins, because my trash ball bounces off the steel lip and flings into the street.

“Ha!” Archer jogs between cars and earns a honk from some asshole too impatient to wait a single second on his way to wherever the fuck he’s going. Sweeping the ball up and taking his shot, he lands it with an annoying hollow splat square in the middle of the trash can. “I’m on fire today. Fuck, this is a good day.” He jogs back onto the sidewalk and takes out his phone. “I should call my wife. See if she wants to neck with me in the elevator for ten minutes. Where are all the dead bodies when we need one, huh?”

“Real classy.” I leave him to his sexting and stop in front of the next food van. “Two Cokes, please. Maybe pull ‘em from the back of the fridge if those are the coldest.”

“Sure thing, Detective.” The clerk spins and yanks the fridge open.

I take a twenty from my wallet and trade cash for icy cold drinks, then I turn to face Arch and his arrogant grin.