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Anne narrowed her eyes and curved her lips to the side. “Bad guys don’t tip-off the police.”

“Don’t go getting any romantic notions, Anne.” William rolled his shoulders back. “You’ll just be disappointed again.”

He could feel her eyes on him as he walked back to his car.

***

One of the first lessons Anne had learned in the force was to always check in with your CO. Unfortunately, between handcuffs and dead bodies, she and Jeffers hadn’t found the time. Therefore, that afternoon when Lopez got back to the station, they’d both been called into his office for a vigorous tongue lashing.

“Does your ass hurt, too?” Jeffers whispered on the way back to their desks.

Anne suppressed a smile.

“Could’ve been worse though. I’ve gotten verbal spankage from every superior officer that’s come through this building,” he continued.

Anne picked up a file on her desk and shook her head. “Maybe that means you should keep your weapon to yourself.”

“Hey, that Spencer guy is nothing but trouble. I know you’re not dumb, Anne. Why are you listening to anything he has to say?”

Anne sighed. “To be honest, I never thought he’d give us information period. But he was absolutely right that there was a mark on the body, and that the examiners would miss it.”

“Did it ever occur to you that Mr. British knew where the mark was because he put it there?”

Anne wrinkled her nose at Jeffers. “Are you serious?”

Jeffers smacked the desktop. “He’s a criminal!”

“And not a dumb one. Who commits a crime and then helps the police solve it?”

Jeffers threw his hands up. “He’s toying with you!”

“Quiet!” Anne hissed. “God, do you have to scream? This is a police station, not a day care.”

“You’d think so,” grumbled Davis at his desk. He didn’t look up from his computer screen. “But we’re lousy with twenty-somethings these days. Pretty hard on the diaper supply.”

“C’mon, Davis. Anne changes her own diapers,” Jeffers said.

“Anne has changed actual diapers and raised a teenager,” Anne snapped. “And now I have to raise a thirty-one-year-old partner.”

Davis laughed loudly.

“Hey,” Jeffers objected. “Yeah, Spencer gave us a tip, but he’s trouble.”

“Of course he’s trouble, kid.” Davis sipped coffee from his mug. “But you two gotta be able to figure out when to listen to the trouble and when to cut it loose. We’ve got all kinds of informants, especially in this city.”

“I’m not a kid,” Jeffers said. “She’s a kid.”

“She’s inexperienced,” Davis shot back. “You’re stupid. One of those two things can change.”

Anne covered her mouth and looked to Jeffers to see if he would lose it or laugh. His face was growing red, but neither of them was really able to hold their own with the other detectives. Everyone else had solved more cases, but obviously, they’d been around longer.

“True enough, man.” Jeffers shrugged and pinched his lips to the side. “So, I guess next time you get stuck on a case, you’re not gonna be looking for help from our little baby detective here?”

Anne pulled a lollypop out of her desk, unwrapped it, and started sucking as vigorously as Evie had on her pacifier. Davis looked up. Anne smiled, knowing that her lips had gone a bit red and that Davis was growing increasingly uncomfortable.

Score one for the baby detectives.

Anne’s phone buzzed, and she looked to see she had a new email from the traffic control. Granted they were busy down there, but they might’ve just called. She scanned the message quickly, then pocketed her phone and grabbed her jacket.

“Where are we going?” Jeffers asked.

“You are going to start looking for reports of that mark in previous unsolved murder cases,” Anne said. “I am going to go warn Spencer that some of the cops that have been following him around aren’t cops at all.”

Chapter Seven

William rubbed his wrist and dropped into the chair at his desk. It had been some time since he’d slipped out of handcuffs and, in truth, it hadn’t really been necessary today. He just couldn’t let that insufferable ass show him up in front of Anne. She’d looked so apologetic as her partner had manhandled him. William could’ve laid that fool out easily; however, there was no wisdom in fighting a cop in his own station. Thus, it had been a good thing his paranoia had him carrying a paperclip in his shoe.

He couldn’t get a read on Anne after their last meeting. When had she become so inclined to worry about his safety? With the looks she’d given him, he’d half expected her to roll him in a blanket and give him a cup of hot cocoa with little marshmallows in it. Had she forgotten that he was a criminal? Had she forgotten that his father ran a decently-sized empire of black market goods and drug trade based in Europe? William had suffered rougher handling before the age of seven than he’d endured today. No one would search a rosy-cheeked, golden-haired little boy. He’d been too innocent to suspect.


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