His tough-guy façade cracked enough that I realized he actually had, in his own way, loved her during their time together. Maybe still did. Enough to kill over her, despite how shocked he’d sounded at that suggestion just moments before? Perhaps that had been his intention all along. Maybe he was, even now, playing me.
Still, he either didn’t immediately recognize the book I held or didn’t want to tip his hand by reacting. And that could work to my benefit.
“I have a bachelor’s in history as well as criminal justice. I’ve seen a lot of the public collections you just mentioned—and a few of the private as well.” I waved the one in my hand as if it were an afterthought. “The others in the Magical Crimes Unit would salivate to get their hands on even one of these books.”
He smiled and made a magnanimous gesture. “Then you must take the book as a gift. Consider it a donation to start the MCU’s own private collection.”
Wow, that was easy enough. “Oh, I couldn’t . . . ” I kept my voice eager, with just a hint of flirtatiousness. Oh Jack, how I’ll need you to wash away this dirty feeling later . . .
“Truly, I insist. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure my accountant writes it off come tax time.” He winked and walked toward me. Took a lot of willpower not to back up as far and fast as possible. “Besides, I have to show my appreciation to the Boston Police Department for being so diligent in watching out for its citizens, arcane as well as mundane.” He said that with a straight face and not the slightest trace of irony. Man, he was a good actor.
Scott was between Meritton and me before I could blink. He made it look natural and smooth and not as though he was marking his territory to keep the interloper away, waving his PDA in the air. “It’s all set, Meritton. My cousins will be in the lobby by five o’clock to rendezvous with you. They know the details we discussed. All I ask is that you don’t try and give them the slip, and they will keep you safer than a newborn kitten in its mother’s care.”
Ha! Look at that—Scott was actually learning diplomacy, using a feline analogy instead of canine. I’d say I was rubbing off on him, but honestly, I was still working on that whole diplomacy thing myself.
Shocking, I know.
Meritton nodded at Scott. “Believe me, this Cat prefers to use as few of his ninety-nine lives as possible. And I have no intention of seeking out Bast’s final embrace anytime soon.”
I reached into a pocket and pulled out one of my fancy-schmancy MCU business cards, holding it out until he accepted it. “My cell number is on there, Paul. Please feel free to call me if you think of anything that could be helpful to my investigation, or if you notice anything out of the ordinary.” I nudged Scott’s arm with my shoulder. “You’ll be in good hands with the Shadowhounds, speaking as a former client. They’re the best at what they do.”
His lips twitched as if he wanted to smile, but he simply said, “Indeed. Now then, I have a meeting I need to prepare for so please forgive me if I leave it to Clara to show you out.”
A dismissal if I’d ever heard one. Not that I minded. Meritton might have been a looker, but my ears had gotten more than enough of that chipmunk voice. “Thank you for your time. And please, don’t hesitate to contact me should you need to.”
He made his smile and voice feel like a sleazy—and unwanted—caress. “Certainly, Chief Holloway. You’ve not heard the last from me.”
Unfortunately, instinct told me that was all too true. The sole question I had, however, was whether he would be speaking as a potential victim or the killer himself.
CHAPTER SIX
EX-LOVERS 5 AND 6 HELD TRUE TO MY trading-up theory: Both were, impossible as it seemed, even better looking and more successful than Paul Meritton—thankfully minus the squeaky voice and misogynistic tendencies. Though they took more convincing than Meritton to accept the
Still, he either didn’t immediately recognize the book I held or didn’t want to tip his hand by reacting. And that could work to my benefit.
“I have a bachelor’s in history as well as criminal justice. I’ve seen a lot of the public collections you just mentioned—and a few of the private as well.” I waved the one in my hand as if it were an afterthought. “The others in the Magical Crimes Unit would salivate to get their hands on even one of these books.”
He smiled and made a magnanimous gesture. “Then you must take the book as a gift. Consider it a donation to start the MCU’s own private collection.”
Wow, that was easy enough. “Oh, I couldn’t . . . ” I kept my voice eager, with just a hint of flirtatiousness. Oh Jack, how I’ll need you to wash away this dirty feeling later . . .
“Truly, I insist. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure my accountant writes it off come tax time.” He winked and walked toward me. Took a lot of willpower not to back up as far and fast as possible. “Besides, I have to show my appreciation to the Boston Police Department for being so diligent in watching out for its citizens, arcane as well as mundane.” He said that with a straight face and not the slightest trace of irony. Man, he was a good actor.
Scott was between Meritton and me before I could blink. He made it look natural and smooth and not as though he was marking his territory to keep the interloper away, waving his PDA in the air. “It’s all set, Meritton. My cousins will be in the lobby by five o’clock to rendezvous with you. They know the details we discussed. All I ask is that you don’t try and give them the slip, and they will keep you safer than a newborn kitten in its mother’s care.”
Ha! Look at that—Scott was actually learning diplomacy, using a feline analogy instead of canine. I’d say I was rubbing off on him, but honestly, I was still working on that whole diplomacy thing myself.
Shocking, I know.
Meritton nodded at Scott. “Believe me, this Cat prefers to use as few of his ninety-nine lives as possible. And I have no intention of seeking out Bast’s final embrace anytime soon.”
I reached into a pocket and pulled out one of my fancy-schmancy MCU business cards, holding it out until he accepted it. “My cell number is on there, Paul. Please feel free to call me if you think of anything that could be helpful to my investigation, or if you notice anything out of the ordinary.” I nudged Scott’s arm with my shoulder. “You’ll be in good hands with the Shadowhounds, speaking as a former client. They’re the best at what they do.”
His lips twitched as if he wanted to smile, but he simply said, “Indeed. Now then, I have a meeting I need to prepare for so please forgive me if I leave it to Clara to show you out.”
A dismissal if I’d ever heard one. Not that I minded. Meritton might have been a looker, but my ears had gotten more than enough of that chipmunk voice. “Thank you for your time. And please, don’t hesitate to contact me should you need to.”
He made his smile and voice feel like a sleazy—and unwanted—caress. “Certainly, Chief Holloway. You’ve not heard the last from me.”
Unfortunately, instinct told me that was all too true. The sole question I had, however, was whether he would be speaking as a potential victim or the killer himself.
CHAPTER SIX
EX-LOVERS 5 AND 6 HELD TRUE TO MY trading-up theory: Both were, impossible as it seemed, even better looking and more successful than Paul Meritton—thankfully minus the squeaky voice and misogynistic tendencies. Though they took more convincing than Meritton to accept the
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