It was hard to tell sometimes whether Jeffers was pulling her leg or just being lazy. His attitude was generally jovial, but he hadn’t been too pleased when he had worked up the courage to ask her out a few months ago and she had turned him down. Darren Jeffers wasn’t entirely unpleasant to look at, but beyond on the job joking around, Anne had never had much connection with him. Not to mention, she couldn’t afford another indiscretion. No way Jeffers would be able to keep quiet if they so much as went out for a non-platonic coffee.
“I’m going to make a phone call,” Anne said, picking up her coffee and her phone. “When I get back, we hit it.”
“Sounds good to me.” Jeffers kicked his heels up onto the top of his desk.
Another potential bonus: Jeffers was one of the few detectives who didn’t mind having Anne as a primary on a case. Was it respect for her skill or just apathy? Not that she cared, as long as she got to run the investigation the way she knew was best.
Anne moved at a good clip as she exited the bullpen and made her way outside.
“‘Sup?” Michelle answered, with all the seriousness her barely-legal self could muster.
“Are you home?” Anne asked.
“No. I’m at school. It’s study group night.”
“Which one?” Anne knew it didn’t really matter, but her protective interest seemed to prevent her from getting to the point.
“Stats. Ugh. This class is so ass, Anne. I don’t know why it exists.”
“But it was that or calculus, and you know I don’t think you should take on too much your freshman year.” Anne had no call to tell her baby sister what to do in college, since she’d only completed her own degree through night school anyway. “Hang in there, Miche. Look, when will you be done? I’m gonna need someone to pick up Evie.”
“Aann-niie!” Michelle stretched the word out like an abused rubber band. “Jake and I were going to go out after study group!”
Anne winced at the near-whine. A remnant from Michelle’s onerous teenage years. “I’m not ordering you to. You’re theoretically an adult now, and you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to except pay taxes. But your big sis would really appreciate it.”
Michelle gave a little huff. “You’re working late, huh?”
“Murder case.”
“Fine.”
Anne could imagine her sister stomping her foot a little as she huffed.
“I’ll do it. But you’ll owe me.” Michelle paused. “Next pizza night, I get to choose toppings.”
“Ugh. Gross.” Anne smiled a little. Michelle was notorious for her bizarre taste buds. Still, Anne knew she was getting off light. She had been asking a lot of Michelle lately. “Okay, we’ll have whatever weird thing your gut wants next Friday. But I’ll have to make buttered noodles for Evie.”
“Sure. And I’ll bake some cookies. She’ll like that.”
Anne smiled. If nothing else, she could count on how much Michelle liked being the “cool” aunt. She and her sister talked for another minute before getting off to return to her desk. Jeffers had disappeared, so she texted him to get his butt back there and sat down to get her notes in order.
Her chest heavy, she considered what it would be like to see William again. Three years was a long time. Though, everything probably seemed longer in prison.
Anne rested her chin on her palm and reached over for a framed picture on her desk. Evie was getting big. She was a handful and oddly clever for a toddler. Anne rested her eyes on her baby girl’s golden curls and slate gray eyes. Of course, Evie was clever. Anne would be lucky if the girl didn’t end up a criminal mastermind.
Chapter Two
Anne seemed smaller than William remembered. He had looked up from the desk on the second floor of the shop, from where he could see the bulk of the first floor and its inhabitants, and there she had been. In all her five foot five glory and righteous self-importance. She was a detective now, out of the uniform, which was a pity, since he’d always thought she had worn those snug, brown pants rather well.
Her fashion now was no less figure-fitting. Strolling around with her chin held high and her lips pursed in perpetual judgment, Anne was an intimidating presence no matter what she wore. William couldn’t say, though, that the crimson leather jacket over the blue-gray blouse and sharp black pants weren’t doing it for him. He’d always been a sucker for that tough persona she put up for her own survival.
He’d love to see that slick outfit crumpled on the floor of his bedroom.
“Well, if it isn’t the Vegas PD’s very finest,” William boomed from above. The expressions on their faces as they both craned their heads to see him were priceless. “Come to find a rare book? I’ve just found a one of a kind misprint. Some medieval typesetter snuck profanity throughout the Biblical parables and added some spice to the ‘begetting’ in the Old Testament.”