I guess I was expecting a tech and their newest patient to be on the move, but when my fatigued brain catches up and my eyes zoom to the heads attached to those bodies, my heart knocks in my chest when it’s Archer’s eyes I stop on.
He smirks when our gazes lock. His lips, so kissable and sweet, curve that way that usually precedes him saying something that will annoy me. The sling holding his arm tight has come a little loose—not enough for the detective to do anything about it, but enough for me, his quasi-doctor, to know he hasn’t spent his entire day sitting at a desk like he said he would.
Moving my gaze to the right, I study Detective Fletcher. A man equally smug and teasing. But my happiness notches up, because on his hip, he carries Mia ‘Moo’ Fletcher, his three-year-old daughter.
Her presence means they’re done for the day.
And early.
Fletch is first through the door, setting Mia on her feet so she dashes to the floor-to-ceiling windows and presses her nose to the glass to look out at the city.
“Mm-mmm.” Fletch licks his bottom lip and winks for me. “It’s my harem wishlist, all in one office.” He taps Aubree on the head before turning his attention to Seraphina. “Miss Sera. You look absolutely ravishing today.”
In instant disgust, her mouth peels back and her nose wrinkles. “You speak that way even with your daughter in the room?”
Leaning closer to the woman who wears a three-piece skirt suit, he lowers his voice and makes damn sure his breath flutters the loose ends of her hair. “She doesn’t know what a harem is. And youdolook entirely edible. What do you want me to do? Teach her to lie?”
“You could teach her to mind her manners and not be sexually aggressive toward any female with a pulse.” Twisting away, Seraphina clutches her clipboard close and looks down her nose at the man I know is a sweetheart beneath his outward sluttiness. “But how could you possibly teach that,” she continues, “when you’ve never practiced it?”
“You got mad because I saidharem.” His eyes dance with playfulness. “But then you go and say S-E-Xthe minute I walk in the room.” He stops with atut, tut, tut, wagging finger and all. “I’m scandalized by your forwardness, Ms. Lewis. But yes,” he adds seriously. “I’m available to take you to dinner. Tonight at seven good for you?”
Repulsed, she only spins on her heels and charges toward my door. “In your dreams, Detective.”
“And dream, I do!” he calls at her back. “Every single night.”
“Goodbye, Fifi.” Mia’s eyes remain plastered on the city. Her nose, squished against my glass. But she oh-so-innocently farewells the woman who loathes the nameFifi. “Hey, Daddy? Is it nearlyend foodtime?”
“You hungry?” Now that the door closes Seraphina out, Fletch reverts back to his normal, slightly less flirty ways. Crossing the office, he swings Mia up to his hip and presses a noisy kiss to her cheek. “You want dinner already, baby?”
“Detective?” Bringing my attention to Archer, unsurprised when Aubree dashes out of her chair and he flops down with more exhaustion than he would usually feel, I try to mask the concern I carry. In the George Stanley building, I’m a professional. I’m the chief medical examiner. I’m not supposed to be a stressed-out wife. “When was the last time you took pain meds?”
“Couple hours.” He fidgets on the chair and searches for comfort. “I think. Dunno.”
Unimpressed, I open my desk drawer and take out something a little stronger than ibuprofen, since he’s with me now, and I’ll make sure we get home. I only have to glance at Aubree for her to jump from her perch on the corner of my desk, then sprint out of the office and back in again a moment later with a fresh bottle of water.
“Take these.” I extend my hand, palm side up, and offer two pills. “Drink that water. You get no prize for feeling the pain, Malone.”
Leaning forward with a grunt, he takes the pills and sets them on his tongue, then he accepts the opened bottle and washes them back with a fast chug that makes his Adam’s apple bob and his chest grow. “Thank you.” Shakily setting the bottle down, he slumps back again and exhales.
In my mind, I set a timer. In just a few minutes, he’ll be feeling better.
“How’s your case coming along?” While Arch closes his eyes for a moment, I look across to Fletch for answers. “What was so important you pulled your best friend off medical leave?”
“I didn’t pull him off.” Tugging a muesli bar from his back pocket, Fletch opens it so the sound of crinkling plastic fills my office until it’s free. He hands the snack to Mia, then he turns to the rest of us and sets his hands on his hips. “I was minding my own business. Not even calling and telling him I miss him thirty times a day.”
“Only twenty,” Arch sniggers. He takes another sip of water and helps me relax fractionally more. “You sent me goodnight and good morning texts, Fletch.”
“Because I love you!” he argues. “But I didn’t call him off the bench, Delicious. I didn’t even hint at it. Then he turns up at the station and tells me he’s bored and lonely, so I mention I’m checking out this cold case.”
“And here you are,” I fill in dryly. “He’s working, and in pain.”
“You act like I forced it.” He saunters across my office. “Why do you think we’re here early, huh?” Placing his hand on my desk, the detective leans close enough I smell his cologne. “I brought him home to the wife because he was tired. Be chill, Dimples. I’m on your team.”
“Mmhmm.” I brush my hand his way to get him off my desk. He goes, but not before leaving the empty plastic wrapper behind. “What’s your case?”
“Twenty-three years old, car meets truck.” He speaks in code, so I understand but Mia doesn’t. “She left work at ten. Married for a matter of weeks. Husband calls at midnight looking for her. No answer. Car and truck meet at one. She’s driving the wrong way, three hours past shift, and it’s possible she’s having a mental health episode. Lead detectives hail from the‘we’re white, we’re in power, and women are second-class citizens’era, so her file is wrapped up kinda quick. Medical examiner says she wasn’t taking her meds properly, so the cops took that, and closed it up. Body was put away, file was tossed into storage, and that’s where it’s stayed for more than three decades.”
“Okay…” Aubree twirls long strands of hair around her finger. “So if the file was closed and her dea— er…end, was ruled an accident, why do you have it now?”