“I had him eating out of my hand,” Kate said.
Lana laughed. “Looks like we’re going to have to find a new nickname for you. You sound like you’re thoroughly enjoying Mr. St. James’s discomfort.”
“Serves him right.”
“For pretending he doesn’t want you?” Lana asked.
“Yes. Punitive damages for mental and sexual cruelty.”
“Sexual cruelty?” Lana said with a smile in her voice.
Kate giggled. “Okay, so that’s a stretch. I did everything but swing from the chandelier to get his attention.”
“I feel your pain and I think you should make him work for it. Sounds like Jericho usually gets what he wants.”
A thrill went down Kate’s spine. The thought of all that male intensity trained on her made her both nervous and wet.
Kate’s phone beeped. “Lana, I’ve got another call. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Make sure you call Sienna before you go to bed. She’ll want to hear it from the horse’s mouth.”
“I will.”
Kate disconnected from Lana and said, “Hello?”
She listened intently to the watch commander directing her to a crime scene. When he gave the address, Kate gasped. “Could you repeat that?” she asked. “Thanks, got it.”
She disconnected the call and sat deeper into the seat. There was no need to give the cabbie any other direction. The murder scene was in her building.
* * *
The cab pulled up to her apartment complex and Kate stepped out. There were police cars parked in front, sirens casting a bluish-red glow over the cut stone of the building.
A policeman stopped her. “Residents and police personnel only, ma’am.”
“I’m both, McMasters.”
The officer looked at her and then recognition dawned across his face. His eyes traveled over the bodice of her dress, lingered on her midriff showing through the sheer black cloth, and then gaped at her.
“Do you think I could get to the crime scene?” Kate asked, rolling her eyes.
“Kate, is that you?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Wow! You look amazing.”
“Thanks, McMasters,” she said, laughing as she glided past him, beginning to like her new persona.
Kate entered the apartment building and faced another officer who also gave her the once-over. If this kept up, she was going to get a big head.
Finally, she was directed to the first-floor apartment and the homicide detective handling the case.
Sienna Parker, flanked by Tom Sanders, a tall, competent veteran, greeted her at the door. She saw the male appreciation in his eyes, but he was more professional than the beat cops had been.
“Hi, Sienna. What are you doing here?”
“Kate, good to see you,” Tom answered. “She’s on loan from burglary. We’re short-staffed.”